Carol and George stroll leisurely down the beach, The moon shines bright on both of their faces and the waves crash beside them. They both smile and laugh as they talk and reminisce over the past couple days of their trip.

“I don’t think that waiter expected you to challenge him to an arm wrestling match.” George snorts.

“And I don’t think he expected me to win either!” Carol exclaims. She put her arms up feining flexing her muscles and blew a kiss to each arm. George laughed shaking his head and pulling Carol closer to him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and let his opposite hand brush her hair behind her ear. He sighed just looking at her eyes shine in the moonlight. They both thought this was a perfect moment. Carol leaned forward pressing her lips to George’s. They kissed longingly as the water brushed over their bare feet.

George moved to lean them both towards the ground. Carol yelped moving over and seeing a glass bottle slightly nestled into the sand.

“My bad,” George said moving to lean back, he reached his hand out pulling Carol closer to him on the sand.

“There’s something in that bottle,” Carol mused her hands brushing the sand away from the bottle so she could pick it up.

“It’s probably trash, C, come here this spots flat.” He motioned patting the sand beside him.

“It’s a piece of paper, I’m gonna see if I can get to it.” Carol slid her finger into the bottle trying to slide the paper out. George sat up and sighed, pulling his knees into his chest.

“Do you think it’s a treasure map?” George taunted.

“God could you imagine?!” Carol squealed not registering his sarcasm. She turned the bottle upside down and wriggled her fingers around in the bottle. George noted how concentrated she looked as she tried to get the water stained paper out. “I got it!”

George perked up, sitting closer to read over Carol’s shoulder. It was a letter, most of the words smudged now but not the ones you needed for context. Just and’s and to’s. Carol and George both scanned the letter quickly and to their surprised it was signed by George.

“What is this?” Carol asked, her face dropped slightly not upset but confused and partially concerned. The letter was a love letter expressed deeply and poetically. A type of poetic George had never been with her. He compared seeing her to feeling a type of nostalgia that meant to him that they’d loved each other in every lifetime that has been and every lifetime to come. He reminisced about falling in love with her and how he’s done it at least a thousand times already and he can’t wait to do it a thousand more times. Gushing over her beauty and her kindness and saying how especially wonderful she was. All beautiful, tear worthy words. But the her in question, wasn’t Carol

Panick rushed over George but his face stayed cool. George had run into a woman at the start of their trip in the lobby. Kimmy Rexler. They had dated in high school and were on and off his first 2 years at college. Running into her was nothing short of kismet in his mind. She said they should catch up and how could he say no? Kimmy Rexler was the first girl he’d ever loved.

As they talked he was reminded about everything he lived about her. Her goofy laugh and how bright her smile was. She still had the same humour and it was like no time had passed. Like it hadn’t been 15 years since he last spoke to her. His brain almost broke when she laughed at one of his jokes and grabbed his knee. She was just as perfect as when he first set eyes on her.

“I guess we found some guy’s letter professing his love for his girlfriend or something.” George said trying to shrug it off.

“This is your signature.” She points out a G.S.E written in an almost chicken scratch cursive. George took the paper squinting his eyes at the bottom.

“I mean, it definitely looks similar but I didn’t write this.” He says shaking his head. Carol reaches her hand to grab the letter. “C, come on we’re having a great night, let’s forget about the letter in a bottle it was fun but it’s not fun anymore.”

“This is to Kimmy, didn’t you date a Kimmy? For a long time, right? 2 years or something like that?” Carol asked rereading the letter again. She felt sick or worse than sick she felt like her body was shutting down. She didn’t know if she believed what he was saying but it felt just as crazy as the alternative. Most of her shock was from the hope she had that George would propose on this trip. She had convinced herself that this trip was a chance for a lavish proposal. He’d surprised her with the trip and every excursion they’d done. It just all added up in her head.

“We barely dated,” George lied, “and it was years ago, but in my defense. George and Kimmy are very common names.” George knew that Carol was an overthinker but hoped that the logic was sitting well with her and providing the distance he needed for this.

George was biding time so he could process this himself. He had planned this trip to propose to Carol. Carol was great. She was light hearted and fun. He felt he wasn’t getting younger and he enjoyed his time with her. It wasn’t some teenage love story, hearts weren’t racing and the sexual tension was more like slightly apphrehensive. This was an adult romance and his heart wasn’t torn from his body but it did make adequate room for her in there. Then he saw Kimmy Rexler and his heart fluttered and jumped, he felt a trail of goosebumps where ever she would accidentally brush him. They talked all night, all until the bartender at the dinky bar had called last call. They stumbled through the town back to their hotel and laughed and joked the whole way. He walked her up to her door in a giggly silence as they both attempted to not draw too much attention. As they stopped at her door she smiled at him this drunken goofy smirk that turned into a soft lip bite. George’s eyes could barely stay open but through his shaded vision he could see the look she was giving him. She rose her hand to his cheek, softly rubbing her thumb over his lips as they part. George’s breath gets caught in his throat. He sighs softly and pulls away, waving defeated as he stumbles to his own room.

When he entered Carol was sprawled out on the bed snoring loudly. George grabbed a beer from their mini fridge and sat out on their patio. He ripped a sheet of paper out of a complimentary notebook and started writing. As he signed it he gulped the last of his beer and rolled the paper until it was small enough to fit. He chucked it into the water and walked back to his patio. In this moment with Carol sitting across from him observing the letter and the bottle, all he could think was what were the chances. They were on a completely different part of the beach than where he’d originally thrown it. They had stopped here and the second they do it washes up. What were the chances.

“This is even the specific beer you drink, you literally had to drive into the town to buy them. I remember you were upset they didn’t sell them at the resort bars.” She knew he was lying now, there were just too many coincidences and if he wasn’t lying was this some kind of twisted sign from the universe. Things hadn’t been good up to this trip. She was relieved when he had said all those late nights and extra shifts were for him to pay for us to go on this trip. He was being secretive and distance. He seemed overall uninterested with her and being in a relationship with her. She told herself that the stress of work was just getting to him but maybe she was placating herself so she didn’t lose him.

“I swear to you Carol, this is all just coincidences. I’ll admit their weird but I promise you I didn’t write this letter. I love you, I planned this trip for you.” George was starting to lose his cool guy demeanor. Carol wasn’t going for anything he was saying.

“It’s more than just coincidences, George this feels like proof of something and I just don’t know what happened.”

“Carol, I love you. I brought you here so we could have a good time and you’re ruining it trying to play Nancy Drew.”

“I’m not playing Nancy Drew, I’m asking you did you write this letter? Why did you write this letter?” Her voice is almost pleasing and tears sit at the back of her throat. George rolls his eyes pushing his hair back.

“You’re going to believe what you want to believe, I already told you I didn’t write the letter. Why would I write a letter to another girl when I brought you here to propose to you? Does that make any sense?” George exasperated. He was over this, she was being unreasonable. She didn’t even know for sure and here was acting holier than thou. This was making him totally reconsider. Maybe this was a sign.

“What are the chances that the night you plan to propose a bottle washes up with a letter that looks like it could’ve been written by you professing your love to another woman? Oh! And that the bottle the letter is in is specifically the specialty brand of beer you drink and head to buy outside the resort. I don’t believe you, but if you tell me the truth right now we can forget about it. We can get engaged and this night will have never happened. But you have to tell me the truth. Did you write the letter?”

It’s quiet been the two. The wind wisps past them and the sound of waves crashing against land is all that fills their ears. George can see there’s a pleading in her eyes. He can’t imagine if he tells her the truth she’d ever actually forgive him. And he didn’t know how he’d look at her if she did. Was losing her better than having her pretend she wasn’t completely shattered. Willing to look past this he’d feel she just wants to be with him because it’s easier than starting over. The promise of the ring solidifies things differently for her now, he thought.

She hated the silence, granted it wasn’t real silence it was nature silence where the wind played a tune accompanied by the waves and night crawlers. Birds cawed in the distance as the sun now threatened to take over the sky. She watched his face but couldn’t get anything out of him. He always had a good poker face. She was tired of guessing and playing games. She wished he’d just be real. She didn’t know if he thought she couldn’t handle it or if he thought her reaction would be bad but she wished he’d just say something.

As the two sat across from one another on the beach they could see for just a second in each others that this was over. Regardless of George’s response there was no coming back from this. They would both remember this day as the day everything changed. It wasn’t the worst fight but it felt like the most impactful. This wasn’t just a regular dispute it had some weight to it. A consequence neither of them had thought of when they woke up this morning.