Chapter 34: Journey to Healing (Part 3)

The next afternoon, Karen sat alone on the beach, her knees drawn tightly to her chest as the waves rolled in gentle, ceaseless rhythm. The ocean's murmur filled the air—a familiar lullaby that dulled the noise of her thoughts. She traced idle circles in the sand with one finger, her eyes distant, her mind drifting somewhere between memory and silence.

The Summer breeze brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of salt and sun-warmed driftwood. For once, she felt still. Safe. Untouched by everything waiting beyond this strip of sand.

Then she sensed movement. A shadow lengthened across the shoreline. She turned her head—and froze, Kai. Her body went rigid before her mind caught up, her fingers curling into tight fists against her knees.

He approached slowly, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the sand. Gone was his usual easy confidence—the half-smile, the lazy gait, the air of someone who never took anything too seriously. What stood before her now was different. Hesitant. Careful.

Karen's eyes narrowed, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "What do you want?"

Kai stopped a few feet away, uncertain if he should take another step. For a heartbeat, he didn't answer. His gaze drifted toward the sea, as though searching for courage somewhere in the horizon. When he finally spoke, his tone was quiet, stripped of its usual charm.

"I just need a minute," he said.

She said nothing, only tightened her arms around her legs, her glare unwavering.

Kai's hand slipped into his pocket. When it came out, something glinted between his fingers—a small, golden locket, its surface catching the sunlight. He looked down at it for a moment, thumb brushing its smooth edge, then held it out toward her.

Karen's eyes flicked to the locket, her breath catching without her permission. She recognized it instantly. The golden heart, worn but still gleaming faintly in the sunlight. Her guarded expression faltered as memories flooded her mind: childhood days filled with laughter, the warmth of Rick's hand in hers, the bond they'd once shared before life had driven a wedge between them.

"This belongs to you," Kai said quietly, his voice steady but shaded with remorse.

Karen stared at the locket as though it were a ghost—something fragile and dangerous that had clawed its way out of the past. The sunlight caught its golden surface, glinting just enough to sting her eyes. For a long moment, she didn't move.

When she finally reached out. She took the locket in her palm and closed her fingers around it. It felt heavier than she remembered. Heavier than it should have.

"Why are you giving me this?" she asked. Her voice wavered, brittle and uncertain, the edge from earlier softening into something far more human.

Kai shifted, his shoulders tense, his usual composure unraveling in the space between them. "Because I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said simply. His tone was stripped bare, every word laid out like a confession. "For everything. For the mess I made. And because…" He hesitated, his gaze falling to the sand. "Because I think you and Rick deserve another chance to make things right."

Karen's breath hitched. The sound of the waves faded beneath the rush of her heartbeat. She clutched the locket tighter, pressing it against her chest as if it could keep her from breaking. Memories came flooding back—her father's quiet disappointment, her mother's tearful silence, Rick's hollow anger. And Kai—his betrayal.

When she finally looked at him again, her eyes shimmered with tears she refused to let fall. "Why?" she whispered. "How could you do what you did—to me, to my family?"

Her voice cracked on the last word. The question hung in the salty air, fragile and trembling, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath.

Kai didn't answer right away. His expression twisted, guilt carving deep lines into his face. For once, there was no clever remark, no easy charm to hide behind. Just silence—and the sound of the waves reclaiming the shore.

After several long minutes of silence, Kai lowered himself to the sand beside her, careful to leave enough distance that the space between them still felt safe. The tide whispered close, curling toward their feet and retreating again. For a while, neither spoke—only the steady murmur of the sea filled the void.

When Kai finally broke the silence, his voice was quiet, almost carried away by the wind. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't have an excuse for what I did back then. I was selfish—reckless. I didn't think about how my choices would affect anyone else, least of all you."

He paused, his fingers digging absently into the sand. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But this… this isn't about me."

Karen's eyes flicked toward him, searching his face. There was no trace of the smooth-talking flirt who used to tease her behind the counter of his summer shack. The man beside her now seemed smaller somehow—more human.

Kai took a slow breath and continued, his voice steadier now but heavy with sincerity. "When I was with Popuri, she used to tell me about you and Rick—how the two of you were like sunlight and shadow, always together, always looking out for each other. She admired that bond more than she ever said aloud."

He looked down at his hands, the sand slipping between his fingers. "She told me she just wanted to see you both find that again. To move on. To be okay."

Kai's gaze lifted to the waves again, their endless motion reflecting the turmoil in his chest. "And I get it now. Rick's not perfect. He's stubborn, prideful, and terrible at saying what he feels. But I've watched him. The guy works harder than anyone I've met—everything he does is for the people he loves. Even if he doesn't know how to show it."

Kai turned to her once again, his gaze softening, the edge in his voice fading into something earnest and unguarded. "And you—you've always been strong," he said quietly. "Popuri told me that, too. She said you've carried so much on your shoulders for so long, always putting everyone else first. But she also said something else—that you and Rick were stronger together. You weren't just friends, Karen. You were a team."

His eyes searched hers, steady and sincere. "From everything I've heard, you two were happy once. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not without mistakes, but it was real. And I think you both deserve to find that again—to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. Maybe it's not too late to remember what it felt like to stand side by side."

Karen's fingers tightened around the locket until her knuckles turned pale. His words pressed against a part of her heart she'd tried to bury long ago. She wanted to argue, to tell him that the past was over, that the damage couldn't be undone. But the tiny, heart-shaped pendant in her hand whispered otherwise. Its familiar weight felt like a pulse—a reminder that some connections never truly disappeared, only hid beneath the dust of time and regret.

Kai rose slowly, brushing the sand from his pants. The sunlight caught his purple bandanna as he looked down at her, his expression softer than she had ever seen it. "Please," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "Talk to him. Even if you never forgive me, even if you want nothing to do with me, don't let what you had with Rick vanish completely. Some things are worth saving."

Karen didn't answer. Her eyes stayed fixed on the locket, its golden sheen glinting faintly in the afternoon light. The waves murmured at her feet, the tide slowly creeping closer as if urging her to make a choice.

By the time she finally lifted her head, Kai was already walking away—his figure growing smaller against the endless colors of the sky, the sound of his footsteps fading into the hush of the surf.

She looked down once more at the locket resting in her palm. The metal was warm from the sun, soft against her skin as she thumbed at the delicate hinge. When she opened it, the tiny photograph inside stared back at her—two children smiling brightly, their hands clasped in a promise neither of them could have understood at the time. A bond unbroken, even after all these years.

For a long while, Karen simply sat there, the waves whispering their quiet rhythm beside her. The sea breeze tangled through her hair, carrying the scent of salt and memory. The ache in her chest still lingered, old and familiar, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn't suffocating. It pulsed instead with something fragile—something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

She closed the locket gently and held it against her heart, letting out a shaky breath that seemed to carry years of regret with it. Maybe Kai was right. Maybe the past didn't have to stay broken. Maybe it was time—finally—to stop running from the pieces and start trying to fit them back together.

Karen lifted her gaze to the horizon, where the sun dipped low and painted the sea in molten gold. The tide washed over her feet, cool and steady, as if the world itself was urging her forward. She clutched the locket one last time, whispering softly to the wind,

"Alright, Rick… maybe it's time we talked."