7. Chapter Six
Chapter seven
T he ocean stretches before me, endless and eternal. The salty breeze tangles my hair as the sun beats down, causing the water to sparkle in a wild dance. Waves crash against the shore in a hypnotic rhythm, and I close my eyes, letting the sound soothe my troubled mind.
I've come so far to get here. Running a surf school was never part of the plan, but somehow I turned my passion into a thriving business. Pride wells up inside me as I look back on everything I've accomplished. And all of it, surrounded by constant danger.
I take a deep breath, letting the salty air fill my lungs. The beach is buzzing with activity—surfers of all ages and abilities dot the shoreline, waiting to catch the perfect wave. This place is like a second home to many of us, a tight-knit community bound together by our shared love of the ocean.
Out on the waves, I spot a familiar colorful board—Rake, goofing around as always even as he expertly rides the swell. He's been here since the beginning, since way before my little surf school was even just a fledgling operation. Now he helps me run the place, his humor and easygoing nature making even the newest students feel at ease .
Watching Rake, I can't help but smile. He's part of the family I've built here. My father may have put this place on the map, but I've made it my own, surrounding myself with people who encourage me to embrace my passions.
Devon's right—the future is mine for the taking. I just have to let go of the past and all its expectations. This life I'm building, it's not my father's. It's mine.
I think back to the advice I just gave her. I'd be a hypocrite not to apply it to myself. We have each other to lean on in challenging times, and I don't have to face my demons alone. This is just something I need to work through, until I get to the place where my father's legacy finally stops haunting my every moment.
With newfound resolve, I grab my board. "Come on," I say to myself. "Let's catch some waves."
The ocean swells before me, and I paddle out to meet it head on. The salt spray mists my face as I sit atop my board, rising and falling with the rhythm of the waves.
Rake paddles up beside me, flashing his trademark goofy grin. "Great day for a little surf, isn't it?" he says.
I nod, squinting against the bright sunlight glittering off the water.
The swells around us begin to grow, and Rake's eyes light up. "Incoming!" he shouts.
We both start paddling furiously, positioning ourselves to catch the growing wave. It swells larger and larger until suddenly we're both up, popping to our feet in perfect unison. The wave cradles us as we fly across its face, carving back and forth in exhilarating bursts of speed.
I glance over and see Rake with his arms spread wide, hollering and whooping as we share this moment of pure joy. My earlier doubts seem to wash away with the tide. This right here is everything—the thrill of the waves, the salt spray on my skin, the camaraderie of riding alongside a friend.
As we kick out in the whitewash, Rake gives me a high five. "Yeah, Skyler!" he exclaims. "That's what I'm talking about!" His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can't help but laugh.
The ocean sets me free in these moments. Out here, I'm not living in anyone's shadow. I'm just me—Skyler—chasing the thrill of the surf .
I nod and give Rake a fist bump, but as we paddle back out, I feel the darkness creeping in again. No matter how hard I try to lose myself in the surf, my father's legacy weighs on me like a leaden anchor.
It doesn’t seem to matter how much I accomplish, because his voice always rings in my head telling me the many ways I’m not good enough in his eyes. Too soft, too weak, why can’t I be more like my brother, and so on. It’s like the better I do with anything, the louder the voice gets. And right now, it’s almost deafening. Willing me to fail.
They say when your parents die, it can bring relief for some. But ‘they’, whoever they are—they’re lying. You might not hear the voice of your actual parent anymore, but the version of them that lives rent-free in your head—which is almost certainly worse than the real thing—can take up a full-time residency and put on a nightly show if you don’t watch out.
Rake senses the shift in my mood. "You good, bro?" he asks, brows furrowed with concern.
I hesitate. Rake's one of my best friends, a chosen brother, but will he understand? I take a deep breath and decide to open up. Besides, there’s something magical about words spoken when you’re sitting on your surfboard out in the ocean. Bonds are formed, deals done, out here. There’s no judgement, only a shared love of surfing and a reminder that we’re all tiny little ants in the overall scheme of things.
"It's just...my dad," I say quietly. "No matter what I do, I can't escape being his son. I'm so sick of living in his shadow." I sigh. “And you know this is something I’ve struggled with my entire life… I thought it would get better with all… this,” I gesture at the expansive ocean glimmering in the sun before us, “but the better I do, the more it feels like he’s judging me from wherever he is now.”
Rake nods, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah man, that's gotta be tough," he says. "But you gotta know—you're killing it with the surf school. You built this whole thing yourself. Your dad didn't do that, you did."
I smile halfheartedly. Rake means well, but he doesn't fully get it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Devon walking down the beach toward us. Her red and pink hair whips in the wind, glinting in the sunlight. Walking daddy issues. If anyone will understand, it's her.
"Thanks Rake," I say. "But there's only one person who really knows what it's like." I gesture toward Devon as she approaches.
Rake follows my gaze and nods in understanding. "Ha, yeah. Her father was one for the books. I'll catch you later, bro," he says, clasping my shoulder supportively before paddling away.
"Hey." Devon's voice breaks me from my reverie as I reach the shoreline.
I turn to see her approaching, her feet sinking into the sand. Her ponytail whips in the wind, strands escaping to frame her face. It seems like so long ago that I first set eyes on her, this gorgeous surfing student turned captive turned life partner. I never imagined things would work out this way, but I’m so glad they have.
"Hey yourself," I say.
She comes to stand beside me, gazing out at the darkening water. "You okay?"
I sigh, shoulders slumping. "Just thinking about everything, you know? There’s a lot to take in at the moment. Tane, the business, just… there’s so much going on.” Devon’s the only one who has ever truly understood the demons I wrestle with, maybe because of the oppression of her own father. I pray she can help me now, before I drown in my dad’s towering legacy.
I lift the board from the water and hoist it under one arm.
Devon slips her hand into my free one, squeezing gently, her touch instantly soothing. She gives me a knowing smile, her eyes radiating warmth and understanding. "You've got this, Sky. You've accomplished so much. You know this. And you should be proud of what you've done here."
I nod, my throat tight. "I just can't seem to escape his shadow," I confess. "No matter what I do, how far I come...I'm still my dad’s son."
"I know it's hard," she says, squeezing my hand again and bringing instant comfort. "But you can't keep comparing yourself to him, Sky. You're amazing in your own right. I really thought you’d worked through most of this." She pauses, and while her gaze meets mine she reaches up and tenderly traces her finger along my jawline. “But I know, more than most, that just when you think you’ve worked through something it can rise back up and bite you… hard. And not in a good way.”
I sigh heavily, glancing out at the darkening ocean. The dying sunlight glints off the waves—waves that seem ready to swallow me whole.
Devon’s expression turns to concern, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed in a thin line. God, she’s gorgeous even when she frowns. “You need to remember we’re here for you, and he can’t get to you anymore. You can’t let him win. You need to move forward.”
"I'm trying, Dev," I say quietly. "But sometimes it feels hopeless, like I'm fighting against a rip current I can never overcome."
Devon moves closer, forcing me to meet her intense gaze. "You listen to me, Skyler. You are not your father. You get to choose who you become. Who you already are. You’ve stepped into your leadership role alongside Zeke, just like we all knew you were capable of."
She's right—the future stretches before me, vast and limitless like the sea. I don't have to let the past pull me under. I stare searchingly into her eyes, desperately wanting to believe her.
"Serious question for you, Skyler, and I'm not afraid of the answer. But do you ever hold me up to some standard of how my father was? What if you did, and I didn't measure up to what he or others expected me to be… especially if they expected me to be just like him?"
Her words sink in. "Of course, I would never…"
She pushes further. "I know you wouldn't. Why though?"
I shrug, my brow furrowed. It seems so obvious when she puts it this way. "Well, you're not him. And he's hardly the type of person that I'd ever expect you to want to live up to."
"Even though sometimes he was there for me? That I have some good memories of him, and other people even go so far as to emulate him in business? Doesn't that find me lacking, that I don't follow along in his shadow?"
I think of her father and all the baggage that he came with. Tales of formidable power, and at one stage, untold wealth. A life full of business deals and accolades. But then, under the covers, a mountain of shady business practices and questionable decisions in his personal life. Someone who would ultimately give up their daughter to pay off a debt, and then flee to avoid the consequences. Someone we ultimately had to kill just to set her free, and because he deserved it. There's no way I'd ever expect her to follow in his footsteps, and I'd think she was mad if she tried.
She gives me a knowing glance.
Slowly, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. My past doesn't have to dictate my future. I’m more than my father's legacy. I know this. I just need to remember it and have it stick.
I pull Devon into a grateful embrace. My shadows of self-doubt still lurk, but they're dissipating a little.
We stay here, locked together, as the sun finally sinks below the waves.
Tomorrow brings new challenges, but tonight, I am simply Skyler. A man with an incredible woman by his side, and so much potential to live his own dreams, not someone else's. And for now, that is enough.
"Come on, Sky." Devon tugs my hand. "Let's go grab some dinner. We'll figure the rest out later."
Together, we turn and walk down the beach. The dying light gleams on the water, leading us forward.
With her hand firmly encased in mine, I can't help but feel like there's nothing we aren't capable of facing together.