Below the Barrel (Saltwater Springs #2)

27. Koa | Peniche, Portugal

TWENTY-SEVEN

KOA | PENICHE, PORTUGAL

I watch as Malia’s dad stands from the table, walking over to his bar with deliberate, heavy steps. He pours himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal tumbler, but he doesn’t bother offering me any—not that I’d take it if he did. His grip on the glass tightens as he brings it to his lips, the tension clear in his posture.

“I was surprised to find out you’d be joining my daughter on tour for a year. I was certain you’d left the team after you broke up with her.” His words are sharp, but the anger in his eyes is what cuts deepest. It’s like he’s holding back an explosion, just barely.

I keep my face blank, refusing to let him see that his words are getting to me. “I’m not sure what gave you that impression,” I say, standing from my seat and moving casually around the room. I pretend to admire the décor, my hands sliding into my pockets, trying to project confidence. I won’t let him intimidate me, even if this situation makes my blood boil.

“Well,” he starts, his voice thick with disdain, “I just figured you wouldn’t be stupid enough to stay on the team after breaking my little girl’s heart.” He sneers, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking another sip. “Not that you were ever good enough to be on that team anyway. You’re just Gabriel’s charity case, his little scholarship project.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the urge to react. It’s the same thing he said the last time we met in person, and just hearing it again makes my muscles tense. But I won’t give him that power over me.

“You know,” I say, finally turning to face him, my eyes locking on his, “you said the same thing before. ‘Gabriel’s charity case.’ Surely, you can’t still think that’s true, not after all I’ve done to prove I deserve my spot on this tour and on the team.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as if I’ve said something ridiculous. He walks back to the bar, pouring himself a second glass without a word, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of doubt in my mind.

Did Gabriel pull strings for me? Did he do more than I realize?

No. I earned this. I earned my place.

“I earned my spot on this tour,” I say firmly, my voice steady. “And I prove that every time I go out there and compete. So I don’t understand—what exactly is your issue with me?”

He swings around, his eyes blazing, finger pointed directly at me as he stomps closer. “My issue is you!” he shouts, the words echoing through the room. “You’re a nobody, from some poor island with a poor family, and you think you can just come in here on your scholarship and brainwash my only daughter into being with you?”

I stand my ground, keeping my voice level. “I didn’t brainwash her.”

He laughs, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “Oh, you absolutely have. I told you the last time we met, when you came to me with that ugly and cheap engagement ring, asking for my blessing— my blessing—to marry her, that you weren’t good enough. And guess what? You listened. You broke up with her, just like I knew you would. And I swear, I believed in God that day. My prayers were answered.”

I grit my teeth, my chest tightening as his words hit a nerve. He’s right, in a way—I did break up with her. I let myself believe he was right. That I wasn’t good enough for her. But now? Now I see through him, and I see the fear behind his anger. He’s scared of losing control.

“And yet,” he continues, his voice dripping with disgust, “here you are, slithering your way back into her life, showing up at my door with the audacity to think you still have a chance with her?” He steps closer, his finger nearly jabbing into my chest. “You’ll never be good enough for her. You’ll never be anything but the island boy who doesn’t know his place.”

The urge to hit him is almost overwhelming, but I won’t. I won’t stoop to his level. Instead, I take a deep breath, looking him dead in the eyes, refusing to flinch, when something behind him catches my eye. I look over his shoulder, and my heart sinks. Maliah is standing there, her face frozen in heartbreak as she stares at me, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal.

“Is that true?” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but her gaze never leaves mine. “Were you planning to propose to me?”

Her father spins around at the sound of her voice, his eyes wide with shock, and in his haste, he drops the glass in his hand. It shatters against the floor, pieces scattering everywhere. “Maliah, my darling, I didn’t realize you came back so soon. Where’s Victoria?” His voice is suddenly soft, placating, but she doesn’t even look at him. Her eyes are locked on mine, burning through me.

“Is it true?” she repeats, her voice firmer this time, more demanding.

I can’t move, can’t breathe. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out. I wanted to protect her from the truth, but now that it’s out, there’s nowhere to hide. I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “Yes,” I finally say, my voice tight.

Her expression falters for a split second, like I’ve hit her with something too heavy to bear. But then, she squares her shoulders, her anger rising. “But instead of proposing to me, you broke up with me because of what my father said?”

I see her dad shifting uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between the two of us, his mouth twitching as if he’s unsure whether he should step in or stay silent.

“I broke up with you because I believed you deserve someone better,” I say, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.

Maliah’s lips tremble, and for a moment, I think she might cry, but then her expression hardens. “So I had no say in it?” Her voice cracks, shaking with the weight of her rage. “You both made that decision for me? Decided who I should and shouldn’t end up with?” She looks between me and her father, her eyes burning with betrayal.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come. What can I even say? She’s right. We took that choice away from her. Her father manipulated me, and I let him, because I thought I was doing what was best for her. But all I’ve done is hurt her.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” Maliah whispers, her voice trembling as her gaze falls to the floor, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. The crack in her voice is like a knife to the chest, cutting deeper than I thought possible.

“I never stopped loving you, Maliah,” I whisper back, my heart breaking with every word. “I told you, you’ve always been the one for me.”

She shakes her head slowly, the first tear slipping down her cheek. Then another. And another. “Do you know what it’s like to hear the person you want to spend the rest of your life with say they don’t love you anymore?” Her voice cracks, and she doesn’t look at me, her pain too raw.

I feel like the worst kind of asshole, and I don’t even care that her father is standing right there, watching all of this unfold. The guilt is so heavy it nearly crushes me. Without thinking, I take quick strides towards her, closing the distance between us in seconds. I wrap my arms around her shaking body, pulling her tightly against me, holding her like she might slip away if I let go.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” I murmur into her hair, my voice barely holding steady. “I know that no matter how much I apologize, it will never make it okay, but I’m so fucking sorry. If I could take it all back, I would. I couldn’t even face you after I said those words—my heart was breaking, too.”

She trembles in my arms, her breathing hitching as she cries softly against my chest. The sound of her tears is like salt in an open wound, and I squeeze her tighter, wishing I could erase every ounce of pain I’ve caused her.

She pulls back just enough to look up at me, her tear-filled eyes searching mine. There’s pain there, yes, but something else too—a deep, burning anger mixed with confusion. She wipes at her face quickly, like she’s trying to pull herself together, and steps out of my embrace.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on instead of just ending it?” Her eyes flicker to her father, who still stands frozen near the bar, his expression unreadable.

I open my mouth to answer, but the words don’t come out right away. Because how do I explain that? How do I tell her that I thought leaving her was the only way to protect her from her father’s disapproval? From the life we’d have had with his constant interference?

“I thought…” I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to drag you into something your dad was so against. You deserved more, Maliah. You deserved better than what I could give you. I —” My voice falters, and I clench my jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing by walking away.”

Her hands drop to her sides, fists clenching. “And you didn’t think I could decide that for myself? That maybe I wanted you despite what anyone else thought? You didn’t give me the choice, Koa. You let him—” she points at her father, her voice rising, “you let him dictate our relationship. And you think that’s what I deserve? To be lied to and controlled?”

The words hit me like a freight train. I don’t know what to say, because she’s right. I did make that choice for her, and it was a coward’s choice.

“I was trying to protect you,” I say, but the words sound weak even to my own ears.

Maliah shakes her head. “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourself.”

Her father clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. “Maliah?—”

“No.” She turns on him, fire in her eyes now. “You don’t get to speak. Not after what I just heard. You tried to keep Koa from me, tried to sabotage our relationship because you thought you knew better. But you don’t.” Her voice cracks again, but she presses on, standing taller, stronger. “I loved him. I still do. And you tried to ruin that because you can’t stand the idea of someone you don’t approve of being good enough for me. For you.”

Her father looks stunned, as if she slapped him across the face, and for the first time, I see real shock flash in his eyes. She doesn’t wait for a response. Her expression is hard as stone, and she turns her back on him without hesitation, heading for the door.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of everything that just happened between us, but this isn’t the time to dwell on it. She needs to get out of here before she crumbles. I need to get her out of here. “Let’s go,” I say quietly, following behind her as she storms out.

Just before we leave the room, Maliah stops abruptly and turns back to face her father one last time. Her voice drips with venom as she speaks, “And you…pretend like I left with your last wife, too. Never contact me again. I’m done playing your games. I hope you have a long, healthy life with your gold digger girlfriend.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, and her father’s face contorts in a mix of rage and disbelief as his eyes find mine. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Maliah doesn’t wait for him to recover. She stomps out, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors, passing the servers who have just arrived with dessert, Portuguese custard tarts, Maliah’s favourite. It feels like a twisted irony, the fancy meal, the perfect setting, completely ruined by the truth that’s been boiling underneath the surface for too long.

I snatch a tart off the server's platter and glance back at her father. He’s still standing there, frozen, his hand gripping the back of a chair so hard his knuckles are white. His expression is seared into my mind—shock, anger, but most of all, defeat. It’s a moment I’ll never forget, seeing him like this. His eyes find mine and out of spite I take a bite of one of the tarts, winking at him before putting it back on the platter and turning around to leave. But it doesn’t bring me any satisfaction. All I feel is the weight of everything that’s come to light tonight.

I trail behind Maliah, my heart racing as I catch up to her. She’s already outside, breathing in short, angry bursts as she stands by our rental car.

I unlock the door, and we both get in, the silence between us heavy as I start the engine. I don’t know what to say, but I know we need to get far away from here—away from him, away from all of it. So, I drive, the night swallowing us up as we leave her father’s house behind.

We pull into the driveway, the soft hum of the engine the only sound as I shut it off. The house feels eerily quiet, especially now that Griffin and Eliana are gone. It’s just the two of us, and Maliah hasn’t said a single word since we left her father’s. She’s been crying, her quiet sobs breaking me apart as I drove.

She gets out of the car and heads toward the door, her shoulders slumped, and I can tell she’s about to shut herself off for the night. The thought of going to bed like this, with everything left hanging in the air, makes my chest tighten. I can’t stand it. Not after all the truth that’s come out.

Before she can slip away into the bedroom, I gently grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Please talk to me, princess,” I beg quietly, my voice sounding more broken than I expected.

For a second, I’m afraid she’s going to pull away, but to my surprise her shoulders start to shake, and she bursts into sobs. Her whole body trembles as she breaks down in front of me.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything. For what my father said, for how he put you down. I should’ve fought for you, for us…I shouldn’t have believed you when you said you didn’t love me anymore. I should’ve known something wasn’t right. And then…the way I treated you after, Koa, I’ve been horrible to you.”

Her words are a mess of apologies, tumbling out between sobs, and it’s killing me to see her like this. I pull her trembling body into my arms, holding her tightly against me.

“Shh, none of that matters anymore,” I whisper, rubbing her hair, my chin resting on top of her head. “You don’t need to apologize, princess. None of it matters.”

But she keeps crying, her tears soaking into my shirt as I hold her. I know she’s carrying a lot of guilt, but none of it is on her. Not the breakup, not what her father said. It’s on me. I should’ve told her the truth from the start, should’ve never let things get this far. But I hold her tighter now, trying to soothe her with every touch, every whispered word.

All I want is for her to know that we’re in this together. No more lies, no more running.

Just us.

I pull back just enough to look at her, brushing the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. Her eyes are red, face streaked with tears, but to me, she’s still the most beautiful person in the world. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding as I gather the words I’ve been holding inside for so long.

“Maliah,” I whisper, cupping her face, “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re it for me, princess. There’s no one else, no one I’ve ever wanted or will ever want the way I want you.”

She looks at me, her lip trembling, like she’s not sure whether to believe me after everything. But I keep going, needing her to know this, to feel it in every word.

“I’d go through it all again,” I say, my voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “Every fight, the breakup, every moment of pain since then—if it means you’d come back to me in the end. I’d do it all, because you’re worth it, Maliah. You’ve always been worth it.”

Her tears start falling again, but this time there’s something different in her eyes. She’s looking at me like she’s seeing me for the first time in a long time. I lean my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling as we stand there, so close, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist anymore.

“You’re my heart, princess. You always have been. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Just you.”

I kiss her then, soft and slow, pouring everything I have into that kiss. It’s not about passion this time, not about desire—it’s about love, about everything I feel for her, everything I’ve been holding back. And as her arms wrap around me, holding me as tightly as I’m holding her, I know she feels it too.

I lift her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carry her to the bedroom. She rests her head against my shoulder, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt, and I feel like I’m holding my whole world in my arms. Gently, I lay her down on the bed, kneeling in front of her, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I begin to take off her heels. I press soft kisses from her ankle to her knee, my lips lingering on her skin, worshipping every inch of her.

She watches me, her breathing shallow, her eyes filled with something raw and vulnerable, but I can see the love there too. I help her take off her dress, sliding it down her body, and then her underwear, leaving her bare before me. The sight of her takes my breath away.

I feel her fingers working at my shirt, untucking it, and then she’s unbuckling my belt, her touch so familiar yet so electrifying.

I stand naked before her, watching as her eyes travel over my body until her eyes find mine again, and it feels like the world stops spinning, and everything we’ve been through fades away. I gently lower her back to the bed, crawling over her and pressing my lips to hers, kissing her slowly. It’s consuming, the kind of kiss that speaks every unsaid word between us. Her lips are soft and warm, moving against mine in perfect unison.

Every brush of her fingers across my skin feels like it carries the weight of every moment we’ve missed, every tear, every longing.

My hands slide down her sides, memorizing the familiar curves of her body. I can feel her trembling beneath my fingers, her breath hitching as I press kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and across her chest.

She arches into me, her skin warm and inviting, and I take my time, worshipping every inch of her. I want her to feel it, how much I love her, how much I’ve always loved her.

Her hands roam my body, urgent but tender, pulling me closer like she can’t get enough. Her touch is desperate, almost frantic, but I can feel the emotion behind it—the years of love, the months of hurt, all pouring out at once.

I press myself against her wet entrance until I slide in. She gasps softly, and I press my forehead to hers, lost in the way her body fits so perfectly against mine. Every movement is filled with intention, slow and deliberate, like we’re making promises to each other with every thrust. Her moans are soft in my ear, and a shudder runs through me.

She’s everything.

I never want this moment to end.

We move together, our breaths synchronized, building something more than just pleasure—it’s healing, it’s forgiveness, it’s love.

We make love and it’s different from before—better, because now there are no walls, no lies, no fear. Every movement feels like a vow to stay, to love, to never let go again. Her nails dig into my back as I press deeper, and I feel the shiver that runs through her body as we both reach the edge. She whispers my name and it sounds like salvation.

When we finally collapse, our bodies slick with sweat and our breaths still heavy, it feels like we’ve finally broken through something. Like we’ve found each other again, stronger than before. I pull her close, her head resting against my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.

I kiss her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips.

Gentle, tender touches that feel like home.

“Maliah,” I whisper, brushing her blonde hair away from her face, my thumb grazing her bottom lip, “we’re not just starting over. We’re starting better. Okay?”

Her eyes soften as she looks up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. She nods, her hand resting on my chest.

This is where we belong, together.