The Good Father

She stood next to him by the driver’s seat, looking up at him. If they didn’t get going, he was going to kiss her.

“Move over, I’ll drive.” Ella touched him, but not in the way his mind had been imagining. She pushed him aside and sat down.

Standing behind her as she reached for the key, Brett waited until he heard the engine start before jumping onto the dock to free the pontoon of her restraints.

* * *

THE WIND CHILLED Ella’s face and fingers and blew softly through her hair, tossing it lightly around her arms and back. She’d had it tied back earlier in the day when they’d been out on the water, but had taken out the ponytail for bed. Brett stood wordlessly beside her, watching the front of the boat.

Her lookout, she assumed.

He gave no direction. No suggestion. Just rode where she took him.

The ocean beckoned. They’d taken the speed boat out earlier in the day, only for a few minutes and within sight of their alcove, but not the pontoon.

“It’s suicide, taking a pontoon on the ocean,” Brett said from above her. Before she’d even headed in that direction.

In some ways he knew her so well. There was comfort in that.

The lagoon was over a mile long. She had plenty of space to travel.

And knew that she would never have enough room on earth to get away from him. Brett Ackerman was her one and only.

She’d known so. Had spent years convincing herself she’d been wrong. But now, after seeing him again, she could no longer doubt herself. Or the truth her heart had made clear that day on her college’s campus when Brett met up with her and Jeff as they arrived with a carload of stuff, and helped unload Ella’s in her dorm room before heading off to the apartment they’d agreed to rent with two other guys.

She understood something else, too. Just because she’d found her one and only didn’t mean that she had a happily-ever-after in her future.

Brett was damaged goods. He’d never convince Ella he was as damaged as he believed he was, but that wasn’t the point. He believed it. And so, in any way that it counted, that made it true.

It didn’t change the fact that just being near him made her want to be connected to him in every way possible. She drove. He watched. So close if she leaned her head back, it would rest against his thigh...

Eventually he took the seat next to her, his unfinished beer left behind in the back of the boat as he looked out into the night.

Tears sprang to Ella’s eyes, seeing him there. Farther away from her.

He was such a good man. Deserving of love. Needing love.

And alone.

No. She swiped an arm across her face, getting hair out of her way—and tears—at the same time. She couldn’t help loving him, but she could control where she let her thoughts take her.

She could control the choices she made.

For his sake, as well as hers, she had to let him go. To block any empathy she might feel. Any desire to help.

All hope.

Hurting her hurt him. She understood that now.

And somewhere in that knowledge, she’d have to find some peace.

* * *

BRETT TOLD HIMSELF the boat ride was doing the trick. He was relaxing. Having a seat, he wanted to think he could just fall asleep out there.

Anything was better than going up to the cabin.

Where his best friend was having sex with his wife. And then sleeping cuddled up naked beside her.