My mother’s necklace was the only thing I really had of hers. The only material object in the whole world that I cared about.
Standing up slowly, I looked around, shaking my dress and retracing my steps through the
house. Using the flashlight on my phone, I looked around the garden a little, but couldn’t see very much.
I went back to my room to check my bed. I had been lying there sobbing like an idiot for
quite a while. Examining every inch of the fabric, and the pillowcases, it had not been
snagged on anything.
A silent scream welled up in my throat. Sitting down in the center of the bed, I closed my
eyes, retracing my steps. I was pretty sure that I had touched my necklace when I was on
the beach. Had I lost it when I was at the furthest point? Or had it been when I was trying
not to look into Mitch’s gorgeous eyes, forcing myself not to become lost in his energy
again?
My throat closed as if I were being strangled as I realized he had reached around my
shoulders, under my hair. I loved the way he caressed the back of my neck so gently. Could
he have accidentally unfastened it? Had it broken when I jumped away?
Dammit.
My hands were shaking, but I had to text Mitch, in case he saw it fall.
Me: I’m sorry I have to send this message, but my necklace is gone. I remember touching it when we were talking on the beach. If you’ve seen it, please let me know.
His response came in seconds.
Mitch: Oh my God, Becca, I’m even more sorry. I’ll go look for it right now.
It was getting dark, so I didn’t know how he’d see anything. Turning my bedroom light off so
he wouldn’t see my silhouette, I peered out the bedroom window toward his house.
A huge light was floating around, circling the area where we had been standing. He must
have a high powered flashlight. There was no way he’d find it in the dark, in the sand, but
oh God, it was sweet of him to try.
After taking a shower to try to shake off the stress of the day, I peeked out again. The
bright light was still there, but now... Was that a rake in his hand? He seemed to be creating a huge circle, then literally combing through the sand with the rake.
Throwing myself into bed, the tears couldn’t be stopped. After being stared at, humiliated,
and being made a complete spectacle of in front of the whole town, I didn’t know if I could
forgive him – even if he spent half an hour combing the beach.
Ducking under the sheet, I tried to blank the entire day out of my mind, but my body tossed