Chapter 7: The Lighthouse
The lighthouse stood tall against the fading light, its white stone glowing in the amber warmth of sunset. Emma stood at the edge of the grassy hill, arms wrapped around herself as the wind whispered through her hair. The sea stretched wide below, calm and endless — but her heart thudded with nervous waves.
It had been a week of silence, hurt, and distance. But today, something felt different. Like the tide was turning.
She heard footsteps behind her. Slow. Hesitant.
Emma turned, and there he was.
Jake.
His dark hoodie was unzipped, the sleeves rolled up like always. His hair was windswept, his eyes tired but focused entirely on her. For a second, neither of them spoke. The silence buzzed, heavy and fragile.
Then he took a step closer.
"You came," Emma said softly.
"I almost didn't," he replied. "But I couldn't stay away. Not anymore."
She nodded, hugging herself tighter. "I wasn't sure what to expect."
Jake's jaw clenched slightly. "Me neither. I messed up, Em."
Emma looked down. "You hurt me."
"I know." His voice cracked. "And I hate that I did. I thought stepping back would help me get my head on straight. I thought maybe you'd be better off if I disappeared for a while. But I was wrong."
The waves crashed below them, steady and loud.
Emma looked up. "Why didn't you just talk to me?"
Jake ran a hand through his hair. "Because I didn't know how. I've always handled things alone — soccer, school, pressure, my dad. But you... you make me feel things I didn't think I was allowed to feel."
Her heart squeezed. "Like what?"
"Safe. Seen. Real." He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. "I've spent so long being who everyone wanted me to be, I forgot who I was. But when I'm with you... I remember."
Emma's eyes glistened. "I missed you."
"I missed you too. So much it hurt."
They stood in silence for a moment, the sea breeze curling around them, brushing their fingertips.
Jake reached into his pocket and pulled something out — a small, folded sketch Emma had given him weeks ago. A pencil drawing of the lighthouse, the waves beneath it curling like ribbon.
"I looked at this every day," he said. "It reminded me what matters."
Emma stepped forward, her voice trembling. "So where do we go from here?"
Jake met her gaze. "Wherever you want to go. I'm not perfect. I'm gonna mess up again. But I want to learn how to love you the right way. If you'll let me."
Emma's breath caught. The word hung between them — love — like a promise and a question.
She took his hand. "You already do."
Jake's grip tightened gently around hers. "Then let me prove it."
They sat together on the edge of the cliff as the sun sank lower, painting the sky in pinks and purples. Emma leaned into Jake's shoulder, her cheek brushing the softness of his hoodie.
Neither of them spoke for a while. They didn't need to.
The silence between them had changed. It wasn't cold anymore. It was warm, safe. Shared.
Finally, Jake spoke. "Do you remember the first time we sat together like this?"
Emma smiled faintly. "I do.