Chapter 19
JACOB
I swam, and swam, and swam. The ocean stretched endless before me, a deep blue-green expanse that swallowed the horizon. My arms sliced through the water, fins kicking with a rhythm that was more surrender than strength.
The shore was long gone, a forgotten smudge, and the world had narrowed to stroke, kick, breathe. Stroke, kick, breathe.
My body was exhausted, muscles burning, lungs straining, but my mind was quiet—set, resolute.
If I didn’t see Lily this time, I’d let it be.
Let the sea take me. The thought wasn’t desperate.
It was a calm promise, a peace woven with sadness, the two braided into one.
They filled my chest, heavy and beautiful, like a song you sing knowing it’s your last.
For the first time in years, I prayed. A simple thing, whispered into the salt and dark.
“Let me see her.”
Not a plea, not a bargain—just a hope laid bare, offered to the water like a coin tossed into a well.
I stopped swimming, my body still, the current tugging gently at my limbs.
I let myself sink, and sink, and sink. The pressure built, a fist around my ribs, ears popping as the light above faded to a soft, green glow.
I held my breath until it burned, then let it go—bubbles rising like a final confession, everything in me unraveling.
The last chink in my armor, gone. Done. I closed my eyes, the darkness complete … and opened them.
She was there.
Lily. My Lily.
Her blonde hair floated like a halo, catching streaks of light that shouldn’t have reached this deep. She smiled, that bright, fearless smile that used to light up my world, and reached out. Our hands touched, her fingers small and warm against mine, and the world exploded into memory.
Her birth—red-faced and squalling, her tiny fist curled around my thumb in the hospital room, her mother’s exhausted smile fading into the background.
Her first laugh, a giggle that bubbled up when I tickled her belly, her eyes wide with delight.
The way she’d run to me when I came home from deployment, her little legs pumping, her arms wide, crashing into me like I was the only thing that mattered.
Silly dinners at the table, her spoon flinging peas across the room, her giggles louder than my ex’s complaints.
Bedtime stories, her head heavy on my chest, her voice soft as she mumbled along to lines she’d memorized.
Every moment, every laugh, every tear—her first scraped knee, her pride when she tied her shoes, the way she’d point at waves and call them whales.
Her life’s canvas. All of it flooded me, sharp and vivid, breaking my heart and stitching it back together in the same breath. I was whole, and I was shattered, and it was overwhelmingly beautiful.
Love. It was love.
The scene shifted, the memories fading, and we were floating underwater again, her small form clear in the dim light. She smiled, her eyes soft, knowing.
“I’m okay, Daddy,” she said, her voice clear despite the water, like it was coming from inside me. “Now, it’s your turn.”
She reached out, grinning like she knew a secret, poked my chest, right over my heart, and the world snapped.
Pain seared through me—sharp, physical, a jolt that ripped me from the deep. Light blinded me, voices cutting through the haze.
“I told you, jarhead, don’t be stupid,” someone said, no malice, just relief.
I blinked, my chest heaving, water dripping from my hair. The faint taste of bile in my mouth.
I was on a Coast Guard helicopter, the roar of the rotors deafening. The same crew chief from before stared down at me, his grizzled face split with a grin. The diver knelt beside him, his mask pushed up, eyes crinkled with something like relief.
“You still owe us a night on the town,” the chief said, fishing a tin of tobacco from his pocket and tucking a pinch in his lip.
I sat up, my body heavy, wrapped in a thermal blanket. Gratitude hit me like a wave, so fierce I could barely breathe. I’d gone out to die, and instead, I’d been given a gift.
Lily’s smile, her voice, her poke to my chest—it was still there, not a weight, but a warmth. A memory I’d cherish forever.
“How’d you find me?” I asked, my voice rough, salt and emotion burning my throat.
The diver shrugged. “Anonymous call.”
I smiled.
I didn’t care who called. Didn’t need to. Lily had been there, and she’d told me it was my turn. I knew what she meant—my turn to live, to let go of the guilt, to be more than the man who’d failed her.
The obsession that had driven me into the deep was gone, replaced by a peace I hadn’t felt in years. Not a cure, not a serum, but something deeper—a quiet that settled in my bones.
I made my decision.
“I’ll take your whole fucking unit to Vegas if you can find Dr. Camille Allard and get me to her,” I said, the words spilling out, urgent but steady.
The chief and diver exchanged a look, then grinned. “Consider it done, Captain,” the chief said, spitting into his bottle and going to talk to the pilots.
The helicopter banked, the ocean stretching below, glittering under the morning sun. I stared out at it, really looked, like it was the first time I’d ever seen it. It was beautiful now, changed—blue and endless, not a grave but a cradle.
I was changed, too, the weight in my chest lighter, like I’d shed a skin I hadn’t known I was wearing.
The chopper’s hum filled the air, the coastline sharpening as we flew back toward shore.
I thought of Camille—her fire, her laugh, the way she’d pulled me from the bar, her body under mine in the tent.
I needed to see her, to tell her about Lily, to make her understand I wasn’t what that woman had screamed. I’d let her decide.
We touched down in a lot near the marina, the same one where I’d parked the Jeep yesterday. The chief clapped me on the shoulder, his grin wide, a good man. “You good?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded, meaning it. “Never better.”
He laughed, a rough, warm sound, and handed me the thermal blanket. “Go find your doctor. And don’t make us drag you out of the water again.”
I stepped out, naked except for my swimsuit and the blanket, the gravel sharp under my feet. The helicopter lifted off, blades slicing the air, leaving me alone with a burning need to find Camille. The ocean shimmered behind me, and for the first time, it didn’t call me back.
Lily’s smile was with me, not a ghost but a light, and it was my turn to live.