Isabel "Belly" Conklin sat at the edge of the pier, her legs dangling over the wooden planks as the waves lapped gently against the supports below. The late summer sun cast a golden glow across Cousins Beach, but the warmth in the air didn't reach her heart. She clutched her phone in her hands, scrolling through messages she had no intention of replying to, the silence between her and Conrad Fisher louder than any crashing wave.

The lyrics of Taylor Swift's "All You Had To Do Was Stay" played in her head like a soundtrack to her heartbreak, the chorus echoing her feelings:
"All you had to do was stay. Had me in the palm of your hand. Then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?"

She hadn't planned to spend the summer like this—chasing after the ghost of a relationship she'd thought would last forever. Conrad was supposed to be her first real love, the one who understood her better than anyone else. But now, their love felt like a shipwreck buried deep beneath the ocean floor, impossible to recover.

"Belly!" Jeremiah's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see him jogging toward her, his hair glinting like copper in the sunlight. He was smiling, as he always did, but there was something cautious in his expression. He stopped a few feet away, leaning against one of the pier posts. "You've been out here for a while. Are you okay?"

Belly shrugged, her eyes flicking back to the horizon. "Just needed some air."

Jeremiah frowned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "You mean you needed to get away from everyone asking about Conrad."

She didn't answer, but her silence was telling enough. Jeremiah sighed, moving to sit beside her. "I know my brother can be… complicated."

"Complicated?" Belly let out a bitter laugh. "That's one way to put it. He's like a puzzle that's missing half the pieces."

"Belly…" Jeremiah's tone was soft, but there was a hint of exasperation in it. "He's been through a lot. Losing Mom was hard on him. Hard on all of us."

"I know," she said quickly, guilt tightening her chest. She'd tried to be patient, to understand his grief and his walls. But there were only so many times she could knock on a closed door without getting tired of waiting for it to open. "But that doesn't mean he gets to push me away every time things get hard."

Jeremiah didn't respond right away. He looked out at the water, the tension in his jaw betraying his usual easygoing demeanor. "You deserve someone who won't do that," he said finally.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. Belly turned to look at him, her heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. She knew what he was trying to say without saying it, but it wasn't that simple. It never had been.

"Jeremiah…" she began, but he cut her off with a small smile.

"It's okay," he said, standing and brushing the sand off his shorts. "I just want you to be happy, Belly. That's all."

That night, Belly couldn't sleep. The sound of the waves crashing outside her window was usually soothing, but tonight, it felt like a reminder of everything slipping away. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the last conversation she'd had with Conrad before he left.

"I can't do this right now," he had said, his voice cold and detached. "I need space."

"Space from what?" she had asked, tears streaming down her face. "From me?"

He hadn't answered, just looked at her with those dark, unreadable eyes before walking away.

The memory made her throat tighten. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. She couldn't keep doing this—reliving the same moments over and over, wondering what she had done wrong.

She grabbed her phone and hesitated for a moment before opening her messages. She had texted Conrad twice in the past week, both times with no response. But tonight, something in her snapped.

"I deserved better than this," she typed, her fingers trembling. "If you didn't want me, you should have just said so instead of leaving me to figure it out on my own."

She stared at the words for a long moment before hitting send.

The next morning, Belly woke to find a response waiting for her. Her heart pounded as she opened it.

"I'm sorry," was all it said.

She stared at the screen, her emotions a mix of anger and sadness. Sorry wasn't enough. Sorry didn't erase the nights she'd spent crying herself to sleep, the way he'd made her feel like she wasn't enough.

She was still staring at the message when her mom knocked on her door. "Belly, breakfast is ready. Jeremiah's waiting downstairs."

"I'll be right there," she called back, forcing herself to put the phone down. She wasn't going to let Conrad ruin another day.

At breakfast, Jeremiah was his usual cheerful self, cracking jokes and teasing her about her messy hair. Belly appreciated his efforts to cheer her up, but she couldn't shake the weight in her chest.

"Hey," Jeremiah said, nudging her arm. "You want to go for a drive later? Get out of the house for a bit?"

Belly hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They spent the afternoon cruising down the coastal highway, the windows down and the radio blasting. Belly felt lighter for the first time in weeks, laughing as Jeremiah sang along to every song, his voice purposely off-key.

"See?" he said, grinning at her. "You just needed a little sunshine."

"Maybe," she admitted, her smile softening. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to feel this way all the time—to be with someone who made her laugh instead of cry, who stayed instead of leaving.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Belly found herself back on the pier. She didn't know why she kept coming here—it wasn't like it held any special memories for her. But it felt like a place where she could think, where she could breathe.

To her surprise, she wasn't alone this time. Conrad was there, leaning against the railing, his face half-hidden in the shadows.

Her heart leapt into her throat. "Conrad?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression unreadable. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

"I got your text," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "I wanted to explain."

Belly crossed her arms, trying to hide the way her hands were shaking. "I'm listening."

Conrad sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know I hurt you, Belly. And I'm sorry. I've been a mess since Mom died, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I pushed you away because… I was scared."

"Scared of what?" she demanded.

"Of losing you," he admitted. "Of letting you in and then screwing it up."

Belly's eyes filled with tears. "You already screwed it up, Conrad. I gave you everything, and you just… left."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "And it was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

The words she'd been longing to hear didn't bring the relief she expected. Instead, they made her feel even more confused.

"You can't just come back and say that and expect everything to be okay," she said.

"I don't expect that," he said quickly. "I just… I needed you to know how I feel. That I still love you."

Belly looked away, her heart aching. She wanted to believe him, but the wounds he'd left were still too fresh.

"Conrad," she said finally, her voice trembling. "I need time. I need to figure out if I can trust you again."

He nodded, his shoulders slumping. "I understand."

As he walked away, Belly felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time, she was putting herself first.

Back at the house, Jeremiah was waiting for her. "Hey," he said, his smile warm and reassuring. "How was your walk?"

Belly hesitated, then smiled back. "It was good. Really good."

And for the first time in a long time, she meant it.