Louisa’s heart sank. If she hadn’t sent that invitation, this wouldn’t be happening right now. “I’m sorry,” she said.

He gave a sigh. “It’s not your fault. She’s an adult. She’s got to figure out how to move on.”

He sounded so certain. Louisa felt anything but.

“Louisa?” Concern washed over his face.

“I can’t.” She took a step back.

“You can’t what?”

“I saw the look on your mom’s face,” Louisa said.

“She just needs time,” he said.

But he didn’t know that—not really. It had been years, and his mother looked every bit as angry as she had been the day she left the island.

“Maybe we need some time,” Louisa said.

He frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Just that I don’t want to be the reason for any of this. My whole summer has been about trying to find a way to fix things, to put our families back together—this is the opposite of that.”

He let out a sound that was part scoff, part sigh and drilled her with his eyes. “So that’s it? You’re ending it because you’re worried my mom doesn’t like you? That’s ridiculous, Lou, and you know it.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not ending anything. You know how I feel about you.”

“Then what?”

“We pause. Let this blow over. Figure things out after the party.”

“The party—” He practically groaned the words. “You’ve got so much riding on this party. If it doesn’t go the way you want it to, what then?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Louisa.”

He reached over and placed a hand on her cheek. She pressed her hand over his, closed her eyes, and drew him in, inhaling a scent that had become familiar and reassuring. She wanted to remember it always, so she marked it in her mind. Just in case.

“I’m tired of things tearing us apart,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to take a break.”

“We’ll figure it out. There’s a lot of history to wade through.” She opened her eyes and found him watching her.

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek (a sure sign their relationship was doomed), jogged back out to his Jeep, started the engine, and drove away.

And Louisa went upstairs and cried herself to sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“YOU LOOK TERRIBLE.”

Louisa glared at her mom, who stood on the porch wearing a pink top, white linen pants, and the unmistakable expression of disapproval.

“I thought you would’ve been up for hours.” Her mom pushed her way inside the house, stopping in the living room.

Louisa plopped back down on the couch, where she’d been since the sun rose several hours ago. She pulled the blanket up and closed her eyes.