Chapter 18 #2
“Not like mine,” I insist. “Mine are loud. Angry. Mean. They get worse during certain times of each month…” I trail off then.
He doesn’t want to hear about the intricacies of the hormonal imbalances caused by PMDD that plague me.
“I do all I can to prepare. To silence them. But it never gets any easier,” I confess.
Instead of placating me, Sione sits quietly. Absorbing my words. Allowing me space to work through my thoughts.
Eventually, once he’s arranged the crystals to his liking, he rolls to sitting, crosses his legs, and presses his palms into the stones. His biceps and shoulders flex as he holds the position.
Without my permission, my eyes devour the sharp planes of his body illuminated by the moon. I don’t ogle too long, though. Because on the next breath, Sione is pulling me out of my head and back to reality.
“Which one speaks to you?” He studies me, then lowers his focus to the crystals in front of him.
Mirroring his position, I lean forward, assessing the dozen or so rocks juxtaposed against the smooth, earthy pebbles of the beach.
“They’re all pretty,” I murmur, uncertainty whirling in my belly.
He shakes his head and tuts. “I asked which one speaks to you, Hunter. Look at them and listen. Or don’t even look. Just let them speak.”
With a shaky inhale, I do as I’m told. I survey one crystal after another, listening, pushing away all thoughts, taking each one in.
Stones of all shapes and colors contrast against the dull gray, brown, and beige rocks of the pebble beach.
They’re stunning. All of them. So unique and special. No wonder Sione likes them.
“This one,” I say, ghosting my fingertips over a hazy purple stone.
“Amethyst.” He looks up at me, his eyes round and eager, as if this excites him as much as it delights me. “It’s often used in healing, especially self-healing and inner work. That one is yours, once it’s charged.”
“How long does that take?” A thread of impatience works its way through me. It’s ridiculous. Juvenile, really. But I’m itching to pick it up and hold it.
“At least a few hours. I plan to be out here for a while.”
Sighing, I settle back, clasping my knees. “What do you do when you’re waiting for the crystals to charge?” I’ve never seen Sione play on his phone or mindlessly scroll through apps. He’s the most present, settled person I’ve ever met.
“Sometimes I meditate. Sometimes I nap. In the summer, I swim to cool off.”
I cock a brow. “In the dark?”
“It’s never dark on a full moon,” he corrects. “The temps have been brutal this summer, and no number of showers can compare with the way the lake cools me off.”
It makes sense, I guess. I’ve taken two showers already today, and yet I’m sticky and cranky and overheated once more, even long after the sun has set.
“You could swim, you know. Skinny dip if you’re feeling brave.”
The suggestion shocks me. At first, I’m sure he’s teasing, but one glance at his expression disproves that assumption.
“I used to skinny dip all the time in a quarry back home in North Carolina.” I don’t know what compels me to say that.
It’s not polite or professional. Thankfully, the modicum of modesty I still possess kicks in and I leave out the part about being accompanied by my boyfriend. And sometimes his best friend.
“There’s no new water on this planet.”
The subject change is as random as it is jarring. I scowl, thrown off. Every time I think I have Sione figured out, he says or does something to remind me of just how complex and avant-garde he really is. “Is that some sort of doomsday prophecy?”
“It is not,” he states matter-of-factly.
“It’s the truth. Water holds memory. Water has wisdom.
Water can take literally any form. Water can settle and soothe the way no other natural resource can.
The quarry water of your past is the same water before us now.
There’s no new water on this planet,” he repeats.
Then, softer, he says, “If stripping down in front of the moon and swimming in the lake might help, you owe it to yourself to try.”
The sincerity of the suggestion shocks me to my core. I never would have considered it, especially out here on my own. I was lost, consumed, festering in my anxiety and despair. I haven’t tried anything new to ease the symptoms of PMDD in months.
I consider the suggestion for a moment, then another. The longer I think about it, the more I agree. It’s worth the try. I’m worth trying for.
“What about you?” I say, the words scraping out of me more harshly than intended. I don’t want to take away his opportunity to swim. I also don’t know how I feel about undressing in such close proximity to him.
It’s abundantly clear that Sione isn’t attracted to me. But I enjoy his company, and he seems to enjoy mine. We seek each other out often, moving through our daily chores and activities together, even if they take longer that way.
I like him. A lot.
I’m intensely attracted to him.
But I’ve given all the hints I can. He’s not attracted to me, full stop, and I have enough self-respect to know better than to throw myself at him.
We are friends and nothing more. And that’s okay. I just feel… strange, I guess, undressing, swimming naked, putting myself in such a vulnerable position, while he’s so close.
Gulping past the trepidation mounting inside me, I search his face.
Kind eyes meet mine. A stoic, assured nod confirms his consent. “I will sit here. Wait with the crystals. Turn my body and give you my back. This way, so you can be sure I am not looking, and I can be sure no one will catch us by surprise.”
Oh. My heart thunders in my chest as I watch him, transfixed.
“Go, Mahina. Let the water help you. Let yourself accept the support you deserve.”
Mahina.
It means moon.
He’s called me that a few times before, but it’s never felt quite like this.
He turns as promised, so with a nod to myself, I stand and undress.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I fold my clothes and leave them in a tidy pile on the shore.
Sobs rack my body as I take the first step into the lake.
The farther I move into the water, the more the pressure in my chest grows.
I don’t bother glancing back. Sione is a man of his word.
I don’t have to see him to know he’s sitting patiently with his back to me, offering the privacy and serenity I need.
My feet shift and slip on the silty lake bottom, causing me to throw my arms out and gasp.
Steady once more, I move farther from the shore, letting the chill of the water cool my limbs and kiss every curve of my exposed skin.
By the time I’m submerged to my neck, the tears are flowing so freely, I feel nothing but wet, from my head to my toes.
No new water on this planet. No new tears inside me now or ever again.