31. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Joss
T he water laps around my legs, my board gently rising and falling. My eyes are locked on the shore as I watch the sand turn from a dull grey to a soft pinkish orange.
It’s quiet here, just beyond the waves. Too quiet. I used to come out for sunrise by myself all the time, but it’s been months since I’ve been out here alone. Without Wes . My mind supplies his name in an instant, and my heart constricts. Dammit, can’t I just have a moment of peace from everything?
My head tips up, the cool spring wind coasting across my face. Maybe it could carry away all the worries that feel too heavy to shoulder. That’s why I came here. My apartment was closing in with each passing moment I spent in it. What better place to find peace and quiet than the ocean? Yet it’s not bringing the clarity I expected .
After I left Wes in his apartment yesterday afternoon, I’d just barely slipped through my door before the sobs racked my body. I didn’t even make it past the foyer, sliding down to the floor, knees pulled tight to my chest. The hour spent with my parents was an assault on every single wall I’ve built over the years. I didn’t have anything left to keep them up by the time Wes hit me with those final words.
You deserve to have people in your life who will be there for you no matter what… I’m not going anywhere… I’m willing to share the burden if you want me to.
Those words continued to tumble around and around in my head, over and over, like a broken record. While I cleaned my apartment. While I attempted to read. While I attempted to sleep. I know he meant them. But what happens when he leaves and my “no matter what” disappears, when there’s no one left to share my burdens? What happens then?
Mixed into the tumult are my dad’s words. A second record skipping across my brain at a painful rhythm.
Leaving you was a mistake. The biggest I’ve ever made.
It should bother me that my mother seems to be barely an afterthought considering she was the one who set all of this in motion. She said nothing that made any difference to the way I feel about her. Yes, I’m glad she finally gave me some semblance of an explanation for what happened with Bill, but it doesn’t make up for any of it, and the way she manipulated this entire situation only goes to show that she hasn’t changed.
A wave lifts my board, and my arms and legs move of their own accord as I paddle. The momentum pushes me forward, and I press against the board with both hands, jumping to my feet as the water sprays across my face. There’s nothing quite like the drop into your first wave of the day, the rush and excitement that builds from within. A smile lifts my lips without any conscious thought.
The rush of the water by my side, my hand gently slicing through it, clear and cold, awakens my senses. Each pump of my legs builds my speed. I carve through the water, my focus solely on the wave beneath my board. This is what I needed. I feel the push start to wane and kick out, coming down to my belly, breathing in short, shallow gasps.
It’s when my eyes scan the space around me, the space just beyond the swell, that my heart sinks. I’m looking for him. Seeking out his smile, his arm pumping in the air after watching me catch that perfect wave. Listening for his whoop of encouragement and excitement. Instead, I’m met with silence and an empty horizon. Not a single person there to see me. I’m completely and totally alone.
“Joss?” The voice catches my attention as I walk down the street toward Harbour Grounds. My head swivels to the side, to the man standing next to me, a man I didn’t even notice in the haze.
“Eric?” I croak. Shock and surprise rush through me. Somehow we’ve avoided running into each other for months, and here he is, today of all days. Seriously, how many emotional twists and turns am I expected to go through in a twenty-four-hour period ?
“Dawn patrol?” He nods toward where my car is parked—board dripping on the roof through the rack.
“Oh, yeah,” I respond, letting my hand coast through my saltwater-laden hair, the texture grounding me into my senses. I used to go out most mornings when we were together. He sat on the beach to watch a few times, but it was rare. It was my thing, and I didn’t really like to share it with anyone. Until Wes. My heart rate picks up at the thought of him.
Very helpful, Joss. I mentally shake myself and ask, “How are you?”
He looks the same as ever, dressed comfortably in jeans and a T-shirt, his jacket unzipped over the top. His short blond hair is styled perfectly, black-framed glasses covering green eyes. His smile is tight, and I wonder if he’s as uncomfortable as I am.
“Good. Good. Um, I’m guessing you’re headed for Harbour Grounds.” He waves a hand in that direction. “Want to grab a cup of coffee? Talk?”
I’m shocked to find myself nodding. What am I doing? We fall into step side by side, an awkward tension between us until we round the next corner and the shop comes into view. I breathe a sigh of relief just knowing that caffeine is near.
The bell over the door dings as Eric holds it open for me. When we reach the counter and Jaz’s head lifts, her jaw drops, then words tumble out in a flurry. “Uh, hi. Hey. Joss. Eric. What are you guys doing here?” She’s nearly incoherent, her surprise reminding me of that first day here with Wes. Another spike in my pulse.
“We bumped into each other outside.” Eric’s hands are in his pockets, the earlier awkwardness seeming to have dissipated .
“Just finished my surf.”
“Right. Right, okay. Well, what can I get you both?” Jaz is still flustered, and I can feel her eyes snagging on me every few seconds.
I order my post-dawn patrol usual—a coconut latte with caramel and chocolate sauce. Jaz even named it the Dawn Patrol and put it on the menu after I started ordering it every morning, and it’s become pretty popular with her customers.
The silence descends around us again as we sit in the corner—my sweet delicacy and his plain black coffee steaming on the table between us.
“Are you okay, Joss?” Eric asks, and there’s true concern in his voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to grab coffee.”
My head snaps up and our eyes catch, holding like two magnets, unable to break apart. I wonder what he sees in mine now.
“No, Eric, you didn’t. I’m sorry. My head is somewhere else this morning.”
“I kind of noticed.” He chuckles uncomfortably. “I said your name two or three times before you finally heard me on the sidewalk. Do you… Do you want to talk about it?”
Do I want to talk about it—my parents, Wes—with Eric? How many times did he ask me a question just like this, only for me to tell him there was nothing to talk about. That I was fine.
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” I decide to say. “My parents are in town.” I can’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out.
He looks shocked that I actually offered something up, but he recovers quickly. “Your parents? I didn’t think they were in the picture. ”
I scoff. That’s the understatement of the century.
“Yeah, they aren’t. Weren’t. It’s kind of a mess.” I chew on my lip. I don’t have any intention of sharing the whole story, all the nitty gritty details. If I didn’t want to share it with him when he was my boyfriend, there shouldn’t be any reason to start now.
And yet, as I take fortifying sips of my coffee, that is exactly what I find myself doing. Not all of it, and not about Wes, but enough for him to be stunned into silence by the time I’ve finished.
“Wow. That is kind of a mess. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.” The words are sincere, not a hint of pity behind them.
“Not your fault. Sorry I just dumped all that on you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” God, I’m mortified. I move to stand, ready to bolt, when he places a hand over mine on the table.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m glad you did. I just…” He clears his throat before continuing, his eyes searching my face. “I just wish you would have told me while we were together. All those times I asked about your family, you just shut me out.”
I open my mouth, ready to defend myself, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“I’m not blaming you. It was your story to tell, and you weren’t ready. I get that. I just hate that you were holding it all while I was clueless to the pain you were in.”
I take a deep breath, letting go of the defensiveness as I exhale. “You’re right, I wasn’t ready. And you were right when you said I never let you in. I’m sorry for that. I didn’t see the point of dredging up the past when it could just as easily be left there. Why would I want to dump my own crap onto someone else when I could just deal with it myself? ”
“Joss, no. You do it because you shouldn’t have to deal with it by yourself. You do it because the other person wants to know you. That’s all I ever wanted. I just wanted to know the real you.”
There’s a sting behind my eyes at the honesty in his words. He says them with care, without a hint of harshness, but they cut deep. He’s right. Jaz was right. And didn’t Wes say the same thing to me just yesterday?
I am willing to share the burden if you want me to.
But I’ve never wanted to. I’ve always kept all my pain, all my hurt, to myself. Afraid that if I shared it with someone else, they would choose to leave. Protecting my heart became the reason people didn’t stay. How did I never see it? How did I not see that my keeping others at arm’s length was the thing hurting my relationships?
A tear slides down my cheek and I swipe it away, embarrassed. Eric has never seen me cry.
“Hey.” His tone softens. “I’m sorry, maybe that was too harsh.”
“No, no. It wasn’t. God, I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
“Having feelings is nothing to be embarrassed about, Joss. They’re what make us human.”
My watery eyes search out his, and I catch how wet they look behind his glasses. It hits me that I never saw him cry either, that he might’ve kept his emotions in check because I always did. I feel the burn of shame at the realization that I missed out on getting to know this kind man.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you, Eric. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be what you needed. I really hope that you find what you’re looking for, that you’re happy now. ”
He wipes under his eyes and sniffs, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable with this show of emotion. He actually smiles. “Thanks, Joss. I am happy. Really happy actually. I, uh, met someone. We just moved in together.”
He looks away, like he’s afraid of how I’ll take the news. But all I feel is glad that he’s found someone to make him happy. It’s also not lost on me that the words on the tip of my tongue are to tell him that I found someone too, but I can’t do that. I can’t claim Wes that way.
I smile for Eric, even though my heart has never felt so bruised and battered. I yearn for Wes, even though I know I don’t deserve his kindness. Not after pushing him away.
“I’m so happy for you, Eric. Truly. That’s amazing.”
“You deserve the same. You know that, Joss? You were dealt a crap hand growing up, but that doesn’t mean you have to continue playing it. Maybe it’s time for fresh cards, or a new game entirely.”
I repeat the words under my breath. Feel them sink into my skin, my heart.
Maybe it’s time for fresh cards, or a new game entirely.
He tells me he needs to go meet his new girlfriend and her parents for brunch, and we hug goodbye. I slump back into my chair, not ready to confront the outside world just yet. My cup is empty, and I glare at it. It feels like a metaphor.
Right on cue, Jaz slides in the chair vacated by Eric, two mugs in hand. She passes me one and I take it with a smile.
“Thank you, friend. You’re a lifesaver.”
Her emerald eyes are laced with concern, and I can almost hear the questions swirling behind them .
“You taking a break then?” I motion to the cup in her hands.
She sinks deeper into the chair, taking a big sip and nodding her head. “Yeah, it was time. You okay? Looked like a pretty intense conversation you were having over here.”
I almost wish she’d been eavesdropping so I wouldn’t have to repeat it all.
“Yeah. I told him about my parents.” I look up to catch her eye and nearly laugh at the look of utter disbelief on her face.
“What? Why?”
I can understand why that seems not only out of character, but also out of the blue. I haven’t told her they’re in town. She’s the only one who knows my history, and I didn’t even bother to tell her they were here. Why didn’t I lean on her for support too?
Because I like to do it all myself.
“Well… they’re here. I saw them yesterday.” I try to downplay just how huge a deal this is, but she’s too quick.
“Wait, both of them?” Her voice rises an octave and I look around, hoping we aren’t drawing the attention of the whole café.
“Yup.” I take another sip of coffee and wait for her to flip out.
“Are you okay?”
My head cocks to the side. Isn’t that just the question of the day. “Honestly, I don’t know. Between my parents, Wes, and now Eric, I have a whole lot of thoughts piling up, and I’m at a loss for how to sort them out.”
“Is this why you didn’t go on your surf trip this weekend? I wondered when I saw you walk in this morning, but it was kind of driven from my mind when I saw you with Eric. ”
“I wasn’t with Eric. We just ran into each other. But it felt good to clear the air. I finally understand what you’ve been trying to tell me. How I don’t let people in, that I push people away before they have the chance to hurt me.”
“Yeah?” She raises an eyebrow at me, so many questions hidden behind that tiny gesture.
“Yeah. Now I just need to figure out what I’m going to do about it.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re on the right path. I’m here if you need to talk, you know?” She reaches for my hand and gives it a little squeeze before standing up. There’s a line forming again at the counter. “Right now, I need to get back to work, but I’m here for you. Always. Call me later and fill me in, yeah?”
“Thanks, Jaz. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“For what it’s worth, I think Wes might be worth the risk.”
I pull my best friend into a hug, and part of me wishes we could sit for hours and unpack how terrified I am to open up and potentially have my heart broken—and not just by Wes. But I know she needs to get back to work, and even though I’m learning I don’t have to do everything on my own, the plan I have forming in my mind is something that I do.