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wave. Shane motions to his right. She moves farther out and sits up, wiping the salt water from her eyes.
    “It’s cold,” she complains.
    “You never seemed to mind before,” he replies.
    “Maybe it’s the crap wetsuit I’m wearing,” she smirks.
    “Yeah, I’ll talk to my designer about that. You’re the first to bitch about it.”
    Shane looks toward the waves. “You got this one?” He asks.
    Dahlia nods, “Think so.” She grabs the rail, kicks her legs to turn her board and paddles. Her heart races as she begins to feel the momentum underneath her, muscle memory taking over. She pops up, quickly finding her footing and setting her inside edge to turn across the wave.
    A laugh escapes her as a rush of adrenaline takes over. She’s reminded why she loved surfing—it was the best high Dahlia had ever experienced.
    She paddles back to join Shane, who watched her every move.
    “Told you it would be awesome,” he says.
    She nods. “I didn’t think I would remember. But it all came back to me.”
    “The best things do, Dahlia. In their own time.”
    Dahlia looks away from him, feeling the intensity of his words.
    “This one’s mine,” he announces.
    Dahlia turns, watching the curl come toward them. She looks up, noticing the sunset for the first time since her arrival in California. Beautiful shades of purple, orange and red coat the sky. She sits on her board, mesmerized by the sinking orange sun.
    Shane interrupts her thoughts as he paddles back out to her. “Feeling alright?”
    She nods.
    He sits up and says, “Being out here, by myself in the water, was healing. It gave me focus after everything went south.”
    Dahlia looks down, running her hand along the rail.
    He continues. “It still hurts, you know. There’s a void that will always be there. But being out here gives me perspective. Surfing is the perfect metaphor for life. Sometimes you get bad breaks, but the good ones are worth coming back for every day. You just have to learn to ride it out.”
    Dahlia lifts her head and stares at Shane. “That’s incredibly corny, you know.”
    He splashes water at her and laughs. “Yeah, but it’s true.”
     

Chapter 22
    “The tuna will be ready in a few,” Shane says, walking into the kitchen. Dahlia sets about preparing a salad, the most domestic she’s been in her life. The longest she’s ever in her kitchen is to prepare a martini. She felt lucky that Rodrigo enjoyed cooking so much. She sighs at the sudden thought of him, and puts down the knife. He really deserves better than I can offer right now .
    “You okay, D?” Shane asks, pulling a bottle of Pinot Noir out of the wine fridge.
    Dahlia nods. “Yeah, of course. Mind if we turn the heat lamps on outside? It’s a bit cold,” she says, trying to deflect his attention.
    But he doesn’t drop it. After a few bites of tuna he starts in. “Does he know where you are?”
    Dahlia rolls her eyes. “Just leave well enough alone, Shane.”
    “I can’t. It’s hard for me to believe this man is good enough for you.”
    “Oh, and you are?” She scoffs.
    “I try to be.”
    The sincerity in his words blow her away. Dahlia rubs her temples. “Shane, I told you it wasn’t about that.”
    “Then what, D? Tell me what it will take?”
    “Why don’t you explain why you won’t divorce me?”
    He shakes his head. “I think you know the answer.”
    “I can already see this is going to end in another argument. We’re at an impasse now. Neither one of us will give what the other wants. That’s not a relationship, Shane.”
    Dahlia pushes back her chair. He grabs her wrist. “We still love each other, D. I know it. I can feel it.”
    She shakes her head and pulls back her arm. “It’s not enough, Shane. It’s probably best I leave tomorrow.” Although Dahlia can hardly believe those words as she says them.
     

Chapter 23
    Dahlia digs her old sketchbook out of the box. Taking a black pen out of her bag, she tiptoes outside to the