I pause, biting my lip. I still owe him an apology. Now’s my chance, to finally say what I’ve been aching to say to him for weeks, even if it won’t change a thing. “I’m so, so sorry, Callum. For how I lashed out at you, for how I didn’t even give us a fighting chance.”

My voice trembles. I can’t help the sadness coursing through me. It’s been lying dormant inside me for weeks, but now that he’s in front of me, it explodes, like lava bursting through a crack in the earth.

“I know I messed up big-time,” I say. “And I just want you to know that I regret what I said to you.” Despite the way my voice quivers, I hope he can hear just how much I mean it.

Tears fall, but this time I don’t bother to wipe them away.

His face twists, then softens. “Nikki—”

“Wait, just let me finish.” My voice trips on a sob. “My mom pointed out to me not so long ago that I’ve been pushing people away ever since I lost my dad. And just like you said, I was afraid of getting hurt—because I didn’t want to lose another person like I lost my dad. I was just too scared to admit it.”

I stop to take a breath. Callum’s chest heaves up and down in unison with me.

“I know it’s too late to fix things between us, but I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. You deserve an apology.”

The words “I love you” spark on the edge of my tongue. I even open my mouth, but I don’t say it. Because what good would that do, to tell him I love him when he’s with someone else now? It would just add to the stockpile of pain.

With a swallow, I erase the words. The pause between us stretches. All I hear are crashing waves and the sound of chatter around us.

I wipe both palms of my hands against my soaked cheeks, sniffling. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while now. I even . . .”

I contemplate explaining my romantic grand gesture, but I stop myself. What would be the point of that? I bend down to rinse the snot and tears from my hands in the warm ocean water. Callum watches, still saying nothing.

“I should have found you sooner so I could apologize in person, but I don’t even know where you’re working now,” I say.

“Kahului. By the airport.”

“Oh. That’s good. Really good. You probably get a steady funnel of tourists who arrive from their flights starving.”

“Nikki—”

A sound like a joyless laugh spurts from me. “That’s actually genius. Why didn’t I think of that when I first moved here?”