“You didn’t want to change things? God, Vivienne, do you have any idea how selfish that sounds?”

“I know it was selfish.”

“So you were just stringing me along, making the most of your time here until you just up and disappear?”

“Stringing you along? Jace, no—you have to know that I—that the only reason—” I stutter and trip over my words as I attempt to answer him.

“You let me think we could work, while knowing full well it never could, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Sounds like stringing along to me.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” I tell him. “But you have to know I never did it to hurt you. I tried to avoid you as soon as I realized—when I started to…” I give up on trying to explain the draw I fought from our first encounter. The way he captivated me, even when he annoyed me. How I literally ran in the opposite direction to fight the pull. “I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. And you—I mean you’re Jace Dawson. You’re a legend. You’re the one who’s royalty here. I didn’t think I would mean anything to you. I thought this would just run its course.”

“Run its course?” Jace repeats, anger filling his tone again. “It sounds like I’m the one who didn’t mean anything. Was any of it even real to you?”

“Of course it was real.” My voice is rough with emotion. “It was all real. Jace, you know I have feelings for you. I feel things with you I’ve never felt with anyone. I lo—” I pause, unable to finish the sentence.

Jace scoffs. “You can’t even say it.”

“Not because I wouldn’t mean it. I won’t be able to leave in two weeks if I say it.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I smile sadly. “I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t. Could you? Could you walk away from playing football professionally? Could you let down your family, your coaches, your teammates, all those years of work? Because that’s what I would be doing. I’m an only child. There’s no other direct heir. I would be walking away from my parents, from my country, from the millions of people depending on me to lead them the way my ancestors have for hundreds of years.”

“That’s what you meant. When you asked about conforming being bigger than just you.”

It’s not a question, but I answer it anyway. “Yes.”

This time, Jace is the one who looks away to the water. “Fuck,” he curses. There’s a new note of resignation underneath the residual annoyance and anger in his voice.

There’s not much else to say after that.

We sit in silence on the tiny sailboat until the wind picks up again and I’m able to navigate us back toward the sandy shore. When we get close enough to the beach, I slip off the boat, guiding it in through the shallower water. Jace follows my lead and helps me pull it to shore. We drag the boat back to its original spot. Jace turns wordlessly toward the house.