"Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're even born." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
When eight year old Beau Ruby met twelve year old Colton Caine, she had no idea she was meeting the love of her life. She had no idea she'd grow...
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I had no idea she was going to be at the party. Out of all the parties neither of us had been to, what were the odds that we would show up to the same party on the same night after years of being away.
I hated that Jamie had been invited. I hated this damn camp house. The only thing my mind could focus on when I was here was the night Beau fell asleep in my arms in my bed for the first time. I could look around and see her here in that purple dress and those shoes that made her legs seem to go on for days. I could hear her calling me her Colt. I could see her sitting on the kitchen counter, swaying to the music. All the beer in the world wouldn't drown that out. I could walk over and place my hand directly on the spot where she had sat, but I didn't.
I tried to be a good date for Jamie. She knew someone who was here in the crowd somewhere that had told her about the classic parties at Noah's, and she had insisted we go so she could meet the people I grew up with. I knew Beau wouldn't be there, so I didn't see any harm in it.
Yet, there she was. She was standing across the deck, and my brother had his hand on her back.
She wasn't in the dress. She wasn't wearing the shoes. She was Beautiful, though. Same eyes I could drown in. Same smile that had been my undoing for so many years.
I hated that I was here with Jamie. I hated that I wasn't here with Beau. In the same thought, I hated that Beau had left. We could have been here together, hand in hand, the sweethearts who'd been together for years, if she hadn't fucked everything up.
If she hadn't obliterated every piece of my heart. Jack was right. There was a Beau-shaped hole still there. The only thing Jamie couldn't fix with her soft touch and her kind ways and her love that I probably didn't deserve because I didn't love her in the same way.
Beau's bruises were gone. There was no trace of purple or black or blue. She looked like had gained a few pounds, probably from Aunt Verne's cooking. When she had first come home, she looked like a shell of her old self. She was scrawny and beaten. Even then, though, she had been mine. She'd always be mine, even if I was too angry at her to ever be with her again. She'd forever be my first love.
Jamie was telling me something, but I couldn't hear her. In a second, I was pulling her across the deck with me toward Beau. I don't care that Jamie was with me. I needed to be near Beau.
"What are you doing here?" I had asked her, quickly realizing how rough my voice sounded. When I learned she was here with Jack, I instantly felt jealous. I wondered for a moment if after all these years of being around her Jack had developed some kind of feelings for her.
It wouldn't be so bad. If I couldn't be with her, at least I could be in her life.
They were talking all around me and Jamie was rambling on and on about how much she had heard about Beau and how nice it was to meet her. Beau looked lost in the conversation. If I had known what to say or how to diffuse the situation, I would have saved her. I didn't know, though, so I just kept on listening and growing more and more embarrassed by the moment.
