Chapter 44
ILIAS
Fix You – Coldplay
Everybody was packing up. They had a couple of days in California free of any competition before heading down to Brazil.
Trestles had gone amazing. He’d finished second, which nudged up his chances of making the Final Five, even after the suspension.
He was making a comeback, and everyone, the entire TerraVive board included, seemed genuinely happy and impressed about it.
New sponsorship offers had come in since he returned.
Mostly, after him and Sofia’s announcement of being a couple, but he wanted to wait until the end of the season to see which were truly worth it.
Gretchen was handling the negotiations, while he focused on what mattered most now. Surfing. And Sofia, obviously.
They were going to reunite in two days in Saquarema, and he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms, to tuck her against his chest, to kiss her, and to breathe her in.
God, he was such a loser for how much he needed that woman beside him.
But apparently, after a man-to-man chat with Coach, when you know, you know.
And he fucking knew from the very first moment that Sofia was the one.
His phone buzzed, and her name lit up the screen.
“Hello, habiba,” he answered, bright.
Silence.
He frowned at the screen, checked the signal.
“Sofia, are you there?”
“Yes,” came her voice, low, small, defeated. Then a sniff. The kind that pulled the ground out from under him.
“Hey… is everything alright?”
Another long pause. But he could hear her. Breathing, sniffling. Then, a heavy inhale. “No, I can’t come to Brazil tomorrow. My sister just called me—” Her voice cracked. “—and…”
He didn’t need her to finish.
“Is it your Dad?” he asked, gently.
“Yes.” And then she shattered. The sobs broke out of her like a storm, shaking her.
All he wanted was to hold her, to pull her into him and tell her…
He paused. No, nothing would be okay. She was losing her father.
Someone she adored. And the grief would be big and brutal and sharp.
His own heart had broken to his father’s death, more of guilt than actual love toward a man who had given him life, surf and heartbreak.
She cried for minutes. He said nothing. Just waited.
Finally, she spoke through the tears. “Sorry. My sister called and said the doctors think he has weeks. Maybe a month. I have to go back to Italy. I need to stay with them, with him, before—”
Her voice broke again.
“Can you turn on the camera?” he asked softly.
“I’m a mess,” she whispered.
“I can’t stand to be away from you right now, when you’re feeling like that.”
“Okay.” Her voice was barely a breath.
The screen lit up. She was curled in bed, hair pulled into a messy bun, one of his stolen shirts draped over her, her eyes red and swollen. Streaks of dried tears marked her cheeks, and yet, she was still beautiful. Still Sofia.
“Better?” she asked, burying her face into the pillow.
“It’s okay, habiba. It’s okay. It’s normal to cry. And it’s okay that you’re going there,” he said, his voice tender.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Are you not mad?”
“How could I be mad, Sofia?” His brow furrowed. “You’re grieving. You’re hurt. You’re sad. I know you wanted to come to Saquarema, but it’s best you go back to Genova.”
She nodded. “I found a flight for tomorrow morning. I’ll have to pay 300 euros, but it’s worth it.”
“Elvira will be in charge?”
“Yes. And Penelope, the new girl. I’ll work from Genova, emails and whatnot. Elvira will handle the tours.”
“Good.” He paused, looking at her carefully. “How do you feel?”
“Like a terrible daughter. Because I should have been there this whole time and I haven’t. Because I was around frolicking—” He couldn’t help a snort. “—and having fun while he was dying.”
“You are not a terrible daughter, Sofia. You call your parents daily. You’re always checking on them.
You’re more present than people who live a door away from their families.
But you have a life, a good one, that you built from the ground up after it fell apart.
You’re a very good daughter, Sofia. And I know your father knows it too. ”
Another sniff. A smaller, aching sob.
“I’m sorry to be a cry baby.”
“I didn’t shed a tear when my dad died, and then went to therapy for two years to deal with it. So, do you know what I learned from that?”
“No…” Her gaze lifted. Curious. Wounded.
“That crying is part of the process. It’s how we digest what’s happening. Some people cry more than others, but there’s no right or wrong. You’re crying because something painful is happening to someone you love. Don’t ever apologize for that.”
Sofia nodded; her brown eyes rimmed with red.
“How was your day?” she whispered.
“No. Let’s talk about you. Do you want to talk? Do you want to scream? Do it with me, habiba. Don’t pretend we can just have a normal conversation.”
She took a long breath, “I don’t think I’m ready to let him go.
” Her voice wobbled. “Since I was a kid, my father has been my anchor. He’s the reason I love the ocean.
He took us out on the boat every weekend, along the Costa Ligure.
He’d throw us in the water to make us learn how to swim, and he was always there.
Always. I got my PADI because of him. I studied marine biology because of him.
His love for the sea… it runs through me.
He’s always been there. When I was sad, when I was happy, when everything felt like shit, I could call home, and he would pick up.
I could just vent. I could be me. But now…
I can’t tell him how I feel. I can’t cry in front of him because he’s already feeling like shit, I know him.
He’s always been the strong one in our family.
And now he’s the one slowly fading away.
And I don’t want that.” Her voice cracked, tears rising again.
“I don’t want him to fade. I—I haven’t even introduced you to him.
He doesn’t know how much I want him to see Salacia grow, to see me fight for it.
He won’t be at my wedding. He won’t see me have kids, and I don’t even know if I want them.
And I just…” She trailed off, blowing her nose.
“How do you cope with it? I don’t know if I can survive this, Ilias. ”
His chest hurt. Physically hurt.
“You will survive, habiba,” he whispered.
“You’ll keep going. But grief will always stay with you.
It will hit when you least expect it, when you’re paddling out and remember something he said, or when the smell of something reminds you of your house, or a street you haven’t walked in years suddenly brings back his voice.
But you will survive. And he’ll stay with you, in all those little ways. ”
Her lips trembled. “Am I destined to cry every time I swim in the ocean?”
He smiled softly. “No. But you’ll feel him with you.”
They stared at each other through the screen, two people aching across an ocean.
“Thanks, Ilias.”
“You’re welcome, habiba.”
He watched as she slowly closed her eyes, exhaustion finally taking hold. Her breathing slowed. The soft sound of her snoring filled the silence between them.
When he was sure she had fallen asleep, he ended the call, placed the phone down on the table, and stood.
He had an idea. And he needed Alejandra to help him pull it off.