The sun hung low over Seabrook, painting the town in hues of amber and rose. Nathan and Eliza strolled down Main Street after leaving Mia's café, their drinks long forgotten as they navigated the familiar streets of their childhood. The air between them had grown easier, the initial awkwardness giving way to something warmer, something closer to what they used to be.

"So, Mia owns a café now," Nathan said, glancing at Eliza with a smirk. "Feels like everyone's got some big story about how their life changed while I was gone."

Eliza chuckled, her arms folded against the cool breeze. "You've missed a lot. Seabrook may be small, but it's been busy. You're looking at one of the few people who didn't take off for the big city or start a wildly successful business."

"Still writing, though, right?" he asked, his tone softening.

Her steps faltered, and for a moment, she stared out at the ocean. "I am," she said finally. "Mostly for myself. A few stories here and there, but nothing serious."

Nathan frowned, remembering how passionately Eliza had once talked about becoming a novelist. "Why not serious? You were always amazing at it."

She shrugged, the edges of her smile tinged with self-doubt. "Life got in the way. After Dad passed, Mom needed me, and... I guess staying here just felt like the right thing to do."

Nathan nodded, guilt prickling at him. He hadn't been here for that—hadn't even known about her father's passing until months after the fact. "I'm sorry I wasn't around when that happened, Liza."

"It's okay," she said, though her voice wavered slightly. "You were chasing your dreams. That's what you were supposed to do."

Nathan stopped walking, gently grabbing her arm to make her face him. "I should've been there for you. I hate that I wasn't."

Eliza looked up at him, her green eyes filled with a mix of emotions—hurt, forgiveness, and something else he couldn't quite name. "You're here now," she said softly.

For a moment, they stood there, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the silence.

A Familiar Place

Nathan broke the tension with a grin. "Come on. There's something we have to do."

Eliza raised an eyebrow as he grabbed her hand and led her toward the beach. "What are you up to, Nate?"

"You'll see," he called over his shoulder.

When they reached the stretch of sand near their old houses, Nathan dropped his jacket and crouched down, scooping up a handful of wet sand.

Eliza laughed as she realized what he was doing. "You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm serious," he said, flashing her a boyish grin. "The biggest sandcastle in the world isn't going to build itself."

For the first time in years, Eliza felt herself relax completely. She dropped her bag and knelt beside him, letting the cool sand run through her fingers. "You know we never actually finished one of these, right?"

"Details," Nathan said, already shaping the base of their castle. "We've got time now."

They worked in companionable silence, their laughter punctuating the rhythmic sound of the waves. It was like slipping back into an old routine, the years of distance melting away with every scoop of sand.

Catching Up

As the castle took shape, their conversation turned lighter, weaving between the past and present.

"So," Nathan began, balancing a small shell on top of a turret. "What's the town gossip these days? Who's married, who's had kids, who's secretly feuding over the best fishing spot?"

Eliza smirked. "Well, Mrs. Thompson finally retired as mayor, but she still micromanages every town event. The Peterson twins opened a craft brewery, which everyone says is great, even though half the town doesn't actually like beer. And, let's see... oh, Mia had a brief fling with the guy who runs the bait shop. That was fun while it lasted."

Nathan laughed. "Classic Seabrook. What about you? Any flings I should know about?"

Eliza hesitated, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Not really. Dating in Seabrook isn't exactly exciting. Most people either grew up here or are just passing through."

Nathan tilted his head, studying her. "So, no one special?"

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Not for a long time."

Something about her tone made his chest tighten, but he didn't press further. Instead, he changed the subject. "I heard you kept my old postcards."

Eliza's cheeks flushed. "Mia told you that, didn't she?"

"She might have mentioned it," he admitted with a grin.

Eliza laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I kept them. You're a terrible writer, by the way. Half of them didn't even make sense."

"I was trying to be artistic," Nathan protested. "It's not my fault you didn't get my vision."

They both laughed, the sound carrying across the empty beach. For the first time in years, Eliza felt like the space between them wasn't filled with questions or regrets—just the ease of being with someone who had always known her better than anyone else.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, their sandcastle stood proudly between them. It wasn't perfect—tilted towers and uneven walls—but it was theirs.

Nathan looked over at Eliza, her face glowing in the fading light. "I missed this," he said quietly.

She met his gaze, her smile softening. "Me too."

And for the first time since he'd returned, Nathan felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.