{{user}} should’ve been glowing. After all, her bridal shower had just wrapped up, and in five days, she was supposed to be marrying the man she promised forever to. But instead of laughter and joy, her chest felt tight, her fingers still raw from gripping the wine glass too hard during fake smiles and polite “thank yous.” The shower left her suffocating, a reminder that she was walking down an aisle not out of love, but out of fear— fear of being alone, of disappointing everyone, of untangling herself from a relationship that had long turned toxic.

So, she drove. Without thinking, she found herself at Cousins Beach. The place that had always been her escape, her anchor, her home. The waves roared against the shore as she wandered down barefoot, the sun melting into the horizon in a haze of orange and pink. And there he was.

Conrad Fisher.

He sat on the lifeguard stand like he always had, as if the years hadn’t passed, as if time froze when she wasn’t looking. His hair was windblown, his expression distant, but when his eyes found hers, it was like gravity shifted.

Their history hit her all at once. Summers spent on that very sand, stolen glances, the innocent kind of love that grows wild and uncontained. He was her first everything—first love, first heartbreak, first person who made her believe love could be something beautiful and endless.

But she wasn’t marrying him.

“{{user}}.” His voice cracked through the crashing waves, soft but weighted, carrying all the things he hadn’t said for years.

The small talk didn’t last long. It never did with them. Words turned sharp, emotions spilling out like the tide—her insisting she was fine, that she was happy, that her fiancé was good for her. Conrad, for once, didn’t retreat into silence. He saw through her. He always did.

“You don’t love him.”

He slid off the lifeguard stand, stepping closer until she could see the storm in his eyes. “I know you better than anyone. I know when you’re scared. I know when you’re lying. And I know you don’t want to marry him.”

“Conrad—”

“Don’t marry him. Be with me.”

The words shattered her. They weren’t said impulsively. They weren’t said lightly. His voice was raw, steady, filled with an ache that had been building for years. He knew about her fiancé. The controlling tone, the manipulation, the way she had slowly dimmed over the months. Conrad couldn’t stand by anymore.

I love you,” he whispered, almost pleading. “I always have. I always will. You don’t have to do this. Not with him. Not like this.”

But Conrad didn’t move. He didn’t back down. His hand reached for hers, warm and grounding, and for the first time in months, maybe years, she felt like she could breathe.

His voice was steady now, his thumb brushing her knuckles. “You don’t have to be trapped. Not anymore. I’ll fight for you. I’ll never stop fighting for you. It’s always been me and you. Just… choose me. Choose me.”

The waves crashed louder, the sky dimmed darker, and in that moment, her heart was louder than her fears.

Because Conrad Fisher wasn’t just her first love. He was the only one who ever truly saw her.

And now, five days before her wedding, she stood on the edge of a choice that would change everything.