Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
SAVANNA
Drinking my problems away sounded like a really good idea in the moment. This morning? Not so much. It’s been a rough one since I woke up; not even a shower helped. I went a little overboard last night after the day I’d had, hoping that all my problems would magically disappear. I was sorely disappointed when I found the box I’d packed at the office had followed me home.
“Savanna,” the barista calls out, placing a large cup of hot heaven on the counter.
Snagging the caramel macchiato goodness I splurged on, I head back into the blinding sunlight of the late August morning, tipping my sunglasses over my eyes. I’m headed to the one place where I’ve found sanctuary since the moment I set foot in Santa Rosé six months ago. The beach.
God, that feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
The weight of the world feels crushing at the moment, making me feel older than my twenty-nine years. Yet, as the beach comes into view, and the pier stands out in the distance, it feels like just yesterday when I drove into town, running for my life.
As I gaze at the pier, I remember the cool night at the end of February when I ended up in Santa Rosé. I had no idea where I would end up after leaving Denver, letting fate decide on the flip of a coin, between the west or east coast. When the coin landed on tails I headed west, my final destination being the coastline in whatever state was closest. I had never seen the ocean, let alone touched it. It was the only thing I knew I wanted in the new life I was going to carve out for myself.
It had taken me three days to get here as I hadn’t dared travel the major interstates, worried that my ex, Vincent, might be looking for me. There was only a slim chance he would contact law enforcement, but I was trying to be as safe as possible, so I zig-zagged my way across the country, taking in all the sights that I came across.
I was freer than I’d been in years, a feeling that I held onto as tightly as possible.
Like a moth to a flame, I stumbled upon Santa Rosé, the pier, and the ocean, falling in love immediately. I can still feel the tears that sprang to my eyes when I took in the ocean breeze for the first time, tasting the saltiness in the air.
It was the taste of freedom.
That night, a fisherman stood on the pier, with a line cast over the side, while a few people walked along the wooden boards. I heard laughter in the air, the hum of endless possibilities and new opportunities, and inhaled the smell of a fresh outlook on the ocean kissed wind. The pier was exactly as I had always imagined one to be, with a multitude of buildings selling souvenirs and trinkets, and restaurants over the water. I took my time as I walked along, gratefully absorbing it all, and incredulous that I had made it.
I had found my new home.
Something about this little city called to me. It wasn’t something I understood, but it wasn’t something I was going to question.
Walking across the sand until I’m closer to the water, but not close enough to get splashed by the waves, I sigh as I plop my butt down. Kicking my flip-flops off, I bury my feet in the sand, wrapping both hands around my coffee cup as I look out over the water.
There have been a lot of moments when I’ve felt homesick in the last six months. When I left, I cut off all communication so that no one would know where I was. I didn’t delete my social media, but I haven’t logged in since I left. There isn’t one person from back home that I’ve spoken to, and while I’ve felt the weight of that decision, today it feels extraordinarily heavy.
A familiar prickle behind my eyes forces me to take a deep breath, my heart aching within my chest.
I wish I could talk to my best friend, Maddie. I miss her so much. If she’d heard about what happened yesterday, I know she would have flown all the way here just to give Preston a piece of her mind. Then, knowing Maddie, she’d track down the hot guy from the elevator, with his fine bubble butt of an ass, and demand he take me on a date.
Laughing at the audacity of my made-up story quickly turns into my chin trembling as tears threaten to fall. I take a quick sip of my coffee to distract myself, whimpering as the hot liquid scalds first my mouth, then my throat.
Putting the cup down, I sink my feet deeper, leaning back until my hands are propping me up by pressing into the sand. If I could talk to Maddie right now, she would tell me everything was going to be okay, just like she did before I left Denver.
She was the only one that knew I was leaving. The only person that knew some of the abuse I was suffering at the hands of my ex. The last time I talked to her, I hadn’t made it to Santa Rosé yet, but she knew I was headed west, and my final destination would be along the coast. It was all I was willing to tell her, though her instructions were to tell everyone I went east. The less anyone back home knew, the safer I felt they would be.
The safer I felt I would be.
But every single day it kills me a little more inside not to hear my dad’s voice. Not to hear my brothers bickering over who gets the last chicken breast at family dinner. It hurts so damn much not to be part of their laughter around the table. I wonder if they still laugh, even though I’m not there. I wonder if Maddie joins them like she used to when I was home.
The ache in my chest deepens as a lone tear slides down my cheek. Until yesterday, things had been going smoothly, and I was clinging to the faith that this city was right for me. I got a job right away, though I question Preston’s motives for hiring me now, and I even lucked out and found an apartment pretty quickly. Mind you, it’s a bit run down, but the neighborhood seemed okay, and it’s within walking distance to the beach, which was the biggest draw.
Now I’m questioning whether coming out here was the wrong decision. I could have told one or both of my brothers, but I always felt they’d murder Vincent if they knew what he had done to me. I could have gone to the cops, but unless Vincent stayed behind bars, I had no doubt he would come after me for turning him in. He never would have let me out from under his thumb.
Running seemed like the only option, but now I’m wondering if I should pack my stuff and head home. My stomach churns at the thought, while a full body shudder shakes me from head to toe.
That would be a no from the body .
The ache in my heart says screw what my body thinks. With no job it won’t be long before I can’t keep a roof over my head, and going home to my family would dull the hurt.
Vincent’s face pops into my mind, and I already know if I were to go back, he would make me pay. While my heart may miss home enough to go back, I know, logically, it isn’t in the cards.
Which means one thing. I need to find a new job, and I need to do it quickly. I have a small amount saved, but not a lot. Trying to furnish my apartment as well as build up savings means I haven’t grown the safety net as big as I’d like. I’m kicking myself for that now, but it was also important to have some comfort at home, especially given all the free time I spend there.
Sitting forward, I push my feet through the sand, watching it fall around my legs as my feet pop up from beneath the small granules.
God, I love it here. I’ve sat on this mesmerizing beach for countless hours since I moved here, watching the tides roll in and out, listening to the surf. From watching kids take their first steps into the water, to paddleboarders, windsurfers, and kayakers, the entertainment the beach provides for free has kept me captivated from the start. I dream of learning some of the things I’ve seen when I’ve got the extra cash.
There’s no way I could leave all this behind. Even though I miss home, and as much as I want to turn tail and run away from the situation I’ve found myself in, I’ve fallen in love with Santa Rosé. My time here hasn’t come to an end.
Picking up my coffee, I nod to myself, decision made. Tomorrow I’ll find a new job. Today? Today I nurse this hangover, and maybe do the other thing that brings me calm and solace—cleaning.