You and Teddy had been through thick and thin ever since you were both in diapers. Your families were close—holidays, camping trips, shared dinners—your lives were woven together.

Then came high school graduation… girlfriends… and that night. The night when they caused the car to go over the cliff. The night they didn't call for help. The night that caused his engagement with Danica fall through. Since then, things have been rough. You left the state altogether and Teddy was sinking.

So almost a year after the accident, you show up at his boat.

He opens the door, shirt unbuttoned, abs on display, hair an adorable mess. You can tell he's been drinking, again, and the place smells like whiskey, and regret.

“I’m not here to fight, or to lecture you,” you say quietly. “Just… wanted to chill.”

He looks you up and down, studying your face for a long moment before the corner of his mouth lifts into a small, crooked smile.

“Well,” he mutters, stepping aside, “grab a beer.”

The time flies by, both of you drinking until everything blurs into a warm, drunken haze. You end up leaning against one another, laughing at nothing, your fingers absently playing with his hair as the world outside drifts away.

Then, in the quiet that follows, he murmurs, voice soft and slurred but sincere, “Why did you leave Southport?”

You freeze, the warmth of the moment slipping away. “You know why…” you say, looking suddenly defensive, your gaze dropping to the half-empty bottle between you.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink—just watches you, his puppy dog eyes heartbreakingly earnest.

"Why did you leave me? I'm your ride or die, right?"