Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kingscliff
The water felt heavy, as though it would pull him out into the sea.
Alex strode forwards through the waves. Each time he raised one foot from the sand, it seemed to be attached to a weight that heaved it back to earth.
But he couldn’t let it take him out—he wouldn’t.
Anna needed him. She trudged in front of him, dragging her surfboard with one hand.
A wave struck them both from behind, lifted him off his feet and knocked her down.
He hurried to scoop her back up again, and when she regained her feet, she laughed.
He laughed too. It was good to see her happy.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
She shook her head. “One more set. Please. I don’t know if…when… I’ll be able to do this again. It might be the last…”
He inhaled a sharp breath. “Don’t say that. You’ll be back. I know you will. You’re gonna get through this. We’ll fight it together.”
She looked at him, her eyes full of knowing and love. “You’re right, honey. We’ll be back. But one more set, okay?”
She was thin, frail. He shouldn’t have agreed to let her come at all, but as she constantly reminded him, just because she was sick didn’t make him the boss of her.
He’d laughed at that, but deep down, he wanted to scream because she didn’t listen when she should.
Her body wasn’t strong enough for this, and she was too stubborn for her own good.
“Okay, one more set.” The waves weren’t too bad today.
He’d have to watch her, that’s all. Make sure nothing bad happened to her.
He couldn’t control the cancer, but there were things he could control, and he was determined to make sure she had this final surf.
He knew she was right—this might be her last time in the ocean.
The last time she ever stood on a surfboard.
But he couldn’t think that way. He had to believe she was going to make it through, that she’d be in remission before they knew it and their lives could go back to normal again.
They paddled out slowly beyond the break.
He was grateful the wind was low and the waves weren’t choppy.
But there was a strong rip current. He could see it when he stood on the beach.
They’d have to stay away from it, since he doubted she was strong enough to paddle out if it took hold of her board.
She rode the first wave in. He caught the next one so he could be close to her and help her back out again. But she’d already started paddling out through the breakers, duck diving beneath the waves, before he could get himself turned around.
When he reached the place where he’d seen her stop behind the break, there was no sign of her.
He sat on his board, stretching up as high as he could manage to see over the crest of the nearest wave.
It crashed down, sending salt spray into the air, and for a moment, he spotted the top of her head as she rode a wave.
She stayed upright, weaving back and forth.
He beamed at her, proud of how determined she was, how good she looked on her board, even now.
He loved her so much that it sent a pang of pain into his chest. What would he do without her?
The wave spent itself, and he selected one to ride to shore himself.
When he tumbled from the wave, he was close to shore, so he pushed his way through the water to stand on the wet sand.
Puffing, he set the board down and stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the water.
Where was she? He’d assumed she’d be on the sand, but she must’ve gone back out again.
He was tired—he hated to think how exhausted she must feel by this point in the morning.
There was no sign of her. He tented a hand over his eyes and squinted into the morning sunlight, scanning back and forth along the length of the bay.
The glare reflected off the surface of the azure water like jewels scattered across a glass floor.
Then he saw her head bobbing in the water.
She was in the riptide, being dragged out to sea.
His heart dropped in his chest, and he quickly grabbed up his board and ran into the waves.
“Anna!” he shouted, but his voice was muffled by the crash of a wave on the hard-packed sand. “I’m coming!”
He dove beneath a wave, then came up for air, already paddling frantically in her direction.
The tide was strong, carrying her quickly in a northeasterly direction.
He couldn’t see her now, but he knew where she’d be.
There was only one direction the rip could take.
He’d follow it, and he’d find her. He could think of nothing else, focused only on locating her dark head in the clear water.
He paddled harder, breathing loudly as he pushed away the panic that threatened on the edge of his consciousness.
“Come on,” he whispered to himself. “Let’s go.”
When he reached her, she was submerged. Her board was nowhere to be seen.
How had she been separated from it? She always made sure she had an ankle strap attached.
He reached into the water and pulled her up onto his board in front of him.
He sat up to give her space, but she didn’t respond.
He leaned down to listen. She wasn’t breathing. He rolled her onto her side.
“Anna! Anna!”
It was no good—he couldn’t do CPR on her here.
The water rose and fell, making stability impossible, and his board wasn’t big enough to hold the two of them.
He leaned over her and began to paddle. The rip carried them further north.
Gradually he managed to pull them closer to shore with each stroke.
He used every ounce of strength he had. Each arm movement gave his all, his breathing laboured and his mind focused.
When they reached the shore, he dropped the board and pulled Anna up beyond where the water could reach. Then he dropped down beside her and began CPR. He counted in his head, then performed mouth-to-mouth.
“Come on, Anna,” he muttered. “Wake up, baby.”
Beneath his palms, her chest was all bones. She was much more frail than he’d realised. It felt as if he would crush her with every compression. But he couldn’t ease up—she still hadn’t drawn a breath.
Nearby, someone shouted something. A few people gathered around, asking him questions.
But he couldn’t hear them, and he didn’t have the breath to respond to them.
He had to bring Anna back. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.
Her parents were coming over for dinner.
They wouldn’t understand. He didn’t understand either.
She’d been right there with him, happy on her board only moments earlier. How did this happen?
Tears clogged his throat. It ached as though filled with a boulder. A sob rose up within him.
Then he was awake.
He sat up with a wail as the intense pain of it all rushed through him and overwhelmed him.
With both hands pressed to his forehead, he stared at the couch beneath him.
It was a nightmare, a familiar one. He’d had that dream for years before he met Kate, and now it was back.
The rescue on the beach earlier that day had triggered painful memories.
It felt like he was there, living through it, losing Anna all over again.
It’d been a long time since he’d thought about her.
He’d tried to push those memories to the back of his conscious mind for years now, hoping they’d fade or disappear entirely.
But here they were again, as vivid as the day the drowning happened.
He’d decided never to surf again after that day, but Kate had helped him heal.
Because of her, he was able to get back into the ocean, to ride the waves he loved.
Still panting, and with sweat streaming down the sides of his face, he swung his feet over the edge of the couch and rested them on the floor.
His head pounded with a hangover from the liquor he’d drunk before passing out hours earlier.
His hair was still caked with salt from the ocean, and his eyes felt as though they’d been pasted shut.
He stood to his feet, a little wobbly, and made his way down the hall to their bedroom. Sunshine peeked through the gaps n the curtains, announcing the dawn. Kate sat with her back propped against a pile of pillows, Noah at her breast. She looked up at him with tired eyes.
“Are you okay? I was about to come and check. You shouted.”
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Sorry, I had a bad dream. I collapsed on the couch.”
“Bad dreams are the worst. But I’m glad you were able to get a surf in. They’re saying it’ll be thunderstorms for the next few days.”
He offered her a weak smile. “Right. It’s good I went, then.”
“Definitely,” she replied. “Noah slept pretty well last night. He only woke me up at midnight, two o’clock and about fifteen minutes ago. So, we’re making progress.”
He shook his head. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how you do it. You make it seem so easy and natural.”
She huffed. “Really? I’m glad you think so. Sometimes I feel so completely out of my depth.”
As he watched her continue to feed Noah and tell him about the nighttime feeds and how she thought Noah had smiled at her once, Alex was overcome by a feeling of awe at the beauty she exuded and the quiet strength she brought to their lives.
He wanted so badly to be a good husband for her and father to Noah, but he wasn’t sure how.
Some days, he felt as though he was being swamped by the pressures of the world, the expectations he’d placed on himself, and the fear of becoming like his own father.
He couldn’t do that to Kate and Noah—he wouldn’t put them through what his dad had put him through.
He’d turn things around and be the dad Kate believed he could be.
He didn’t see it in himself, but she did.
And he’d hold on to that. He would’t let his past define him or control him.
Kate wanted him to open up, to share with her how he was feeling, what he’d been through, his hopes and dreams for the future.
She wanted to know everything about him, she’d told him dozens of times over the course of their relationship.
But he didn’t see how that would help. What if she didn’t like what she heard?
What if she thought he was weak? No, he could manage it alone.
He could push through the pain and take ownership over his own choices.
She didn’t have to know how he struggled on the inside, because he’d deal with it himself, like he always had.
And he’d become the best father and husband he could be, because they deserved it.