Do you remember that time we sat at the beach looking out at the water? It was so peaceful, that day. I knew I loved you then, and that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to be with you. Did you know you loved me too? I thought you did. I think that was the best time we ever had together. Just you and me enjoying the scenery and watching the waves crash against the sand.

The flight in wasn’t the best. I remember us arguing off and on for most of it. Hours spent with sideways looks and whispered arguments as we tried to keep the rest of the plane from knowing our business, but that was a lost cause, wasn’t it? They were stuck in that fight with us. Hostages with ring-side seats they didn’t pay for or want.

I’m sure I was wrong. You told me over and over that I was. I can hear it now rattling around in my head, ‘You’re wrong.’ Those words on repeat for years now. But was I wrong? You’ve never really been honest with me about that, have you? Even after we landed, I knew I couldn’t have been mistaken. I wasn’t wrong, but you insisted that I was. The car to the hotel was silent, hardly looking in each other’s direction for the entire ride, but the view out the windows was breathtaking. Do you remember? I remember.

I know you tried. When you went to place your hand on my thigh to comfort me, I should have let you. I couldn’t help but swat it away from me. I was so angry; I couldn’t let you attempt to calm me. I needed to be angry. I knew I wasn’t wrong, even if I can still hear you protest with those two words again, ‘You’re wrong.’ They make me angry even now. Can you be honest with me this time? I wasn’t wrong, was I? Don’t be silent now. You’re never this quiet. Surely, you can tell me the truth. There’s nothing left to be angry for after so long. I knew you were lying then. Can’t you tell me now?

Silence.

Fine, be that way. We both know I wasn’t wrong, though. I had seen the messages. We weren’t flying there for some lovely vacation; you were going to leave me there. Abandon me with the waves crashing against the sand. Did you think it was going to soften the blow? That somehow the beauty of that place would make me want to stay? Did you?! I had been left before, and you knew what that had done to me. How that had changed me. I trusted you, and you were just like them, weren’t you?

Well, say something!

What, no, ‘you’re wrong’ this time? Surely, you have something to say. You haven’t shut up once since that day, and now you choose silence? How dare you give up today of all days. You know I couldn’t let you leave me. I couldn’t then, and I won’t now. Even when they found us there in that bed, the sound of the waves hitting the sand crashing through the balcony door. I wouldn’t let them tear us apart. I held onto you then, and I won’t let you go now. Never.

I wasn’t wrong. You were going to leave me, but you couldn’t live without me. I knew you couldn’t, and I wasn’t going to let you. So now, here we are, locked in this room together. Can you hear the waves crashing against the sand? The sound always reminds me of that day when I knew I loved you.