I suck in a deep breath and say, “Wilder just…he has shown me what I deserve while I’m here, and I guess I’m trying to accept that.”

It’s a confusing statement for someone who thinks we’re married, but it’s also a true statement for the relationship that Wilder and I really have.

Sanders looks over at Wilder for confirmation, and of course, Wilder, being the honorable man he is, says, “She deserves the world, and I’m ready to give her that.”

My eyes well up again while my emotions get the best of me.

Because I want what he has to give me. I do.

But I also know he has reservations.

I know he might not be fully ready.

And I know that I’m already growing attached.

Not wanting to have this moment in front of Sanders, I stand from the couch and say, “Excuse me.”

The water laps against the dock poles below me as I dangle my feet, my hands resting on the edge of the dock. Ducks float across the water in front of me, and the distant sound of the camp winding down is behind me.

There are some couples playing volleyball off to the left, another couple out on the lake in a rowboat, and a few couples are over at the dining hall doing arts and crafts.

I’ve been sitting on the dock for probably a solid twenty minutes, quietly crying to myself, when I hear footsteps along the wooden planks. I know exactly who it is.

I wipe at my eyes, ready to be enveloped in Wilder’s strong embrace, when someone clears their throat behind me. I look back, and instead of seeing Wilder standing there with his handsome face, it’s Chad.

God, not what I want to deal with right now.

I turn back around, not wanting to give him the time of day, but he says, “Can I join you?”

“If you need to,” I say in an annoyed tone. I swipe at my eyes again, trying to clear out the tears.

Chad doesn’t get the hint and instead takes a seat next to me, causing me to scoot over so we’re not sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“I’m really not in the mood to spar, Chad.”

“I’m not either,” he says in a subdued tone, any antagonization completely gone. That’s when I look over at him and see just how defeated he seems. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “Uh, things aren’t looking good for me and my wife.”

“What?” I ask, turning toward him.

This is not what I was expecting at all. They seemed fine. Happy.