The beach was almost empty. Waves rolled in slow, steady rhythms, silver under the late afternoon light. The same stretch of sand. The same crooked driftwood log. The same place where, years ago, two awkward twelve-year-olds had sat too close and pretended not to notice.

You hadn’t wanted to come. But when Percy asked to meet you here, you couldn’t ignore it. He stood near the waterline, hands shoved into his pockets, staring out at the horizon like it might answer him. Older now. Broader shoulders. Harder edges. The softness that used to live in him had thinned into something sharper.

You used to love how the ocean mirrored him. Now it just felt restless. You stopped a few feet away. Neither of you smiled. This was where he’d first told you he liked you. Where you’d laughed and thrown sand at him because you didn’t know what else to do with the way your heart was exploding. Where he’d promised you that you’d always be side by side. Back when promises were easy.

He finally looked at you. There was something guarded in his eyes. Defensive. Like he’d already decided how this would go and was bracing for impact.

You had changed too. You weren’t soft the way you used to be. Life had carved pieces out of you. You’d learned how to snap before someone else could. How to speak coldly before anyone could wound you first.

Somewhere along the way, you both stopped being careful with each other. He’d grown possessive. Jealous. Sharp-tongued when he felt cornered. You’d grown distant. Cutting. Quick to assume the worst.

And then there was Annabeth. The first time, you’d told yourself it was a mistake. The second time, you’d told yourself you were imagining it. By the third, it didn’t matter what excuse he had.

The ocean rushed forward and retreated again, like it couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave. This was where you fell in love. And now it felt like standing on the remains of something that had already drowned. He shifted his weight. Said he wanted to talk. The wind tugged at your hair, carrying salt and memory and something bitter between you. You waited. Not hopeful. Not angry. Just tired.