“Yes. Let your upper body surrender to gravity. You don’t have to hold yourself to the Earth. Gravity does a fine job all by itself and doesn’t need our help.”
Something in the words she said brought more tears. They dotted the sand before I knew what was happening and could try to stop it. The Earth didn’t, in fact, need my help. An overpowering sense of humility pushed me to the sand and I sat there, my knees digging into the cool silk of it.
Ember kept her head down, but spoke as though she’d seen the whole thing. “It’s a hard thing to get used to, sometimes. Not doing everything ourselves.”
She had no idea. None.
“Bo and I have had to work on that with each other. Me, because I’m an only child of recklessly fantastic parents,” she giggled before taking a breath and sitting next to me, “and Bo because, well, when his parents died—”
“Wait,” I cut in, “his parents are dead, too?”
Ember nodded. “They died a few years ago. Before I met him. Car accident,” she added quickly, as if anticipating my next question.
Okay, maybe she had some idea.
“Since you said too, I assume you know about Rae, his sister?” Ember’s lips tightened to a close.
I nodded, looking over my shoulder.
“Did Regan tell you? Or CJ?” She took the elastic out of her hair and let the wild beauty of it fall all around her.
I didn’t know why it mattered who told me, but I answered. “Regan.”
She gave a side smile that made my insides hurt. “He doesn’t talk about her much. With anyone.”
Piecing together fairly quickly that Ember likely didn’t know about the nuclear letter that showed up on his doorstep, I thought better about bringing it up.
“He must trust you,” she continued, grabbing small fistfuls of sand and letting it drain between her fingers like an hourglass.
“Yeah,” I stood, brushing the sand from my shorts, “I think I screwed that up royally this morning.”
Ember stood, and though she was a few inches taller than me, she didn’t make me feel that way with her smile. “Not likely. Regan’s all brood, no bite.”
“It was kind of big...”
Ember shrugged, looking unimpressed.
I tilted my head, scrunching my forehead. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
She sighed. “Because you deserve it. Everyone does. Kind of like innocent until proven guilty? We should all be nice, I guess, no conditions around it. I was a bitch to you before. And, I’m sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay,” I put my hand up, “I know all about the pregnancy scare and Willow trying to plant herself directly over your boyfriend.”
Ember let out a fantastically airy laugh. “Do you know Willow?”
“I ... let’s just say I know how she operates.”
A grey look passed through her eyes. Seeming to force a grin, she hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “He’s probably that way. There are fewer houses down there, and a nice rock wall.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, put my head down, and made my way along the edge of the water.
I didn’t have to walk very far before I saw him. Shirtless and shaking water from his hair, Regan walked over to the rock wall Ember had assured me was there, and picked up his towel. Before drying off, he tossed the towel over his shoulder and leaned forward and picked up an envelope. I knew it was the card from Rae based on the shape, and the reverence with which he was handling it, dutifully setting it back on the rocks before drying off.
Thank God he didn’t toss the letter.
I hate being startled—life holds enough surprises—so I decided I should clear my throat, or something equally as juvenile to announce my presence.
I sniffed.
Of course, as intended, he looked in my direction, though I was embarrassed at my choice of greeting.
“Hi.” My voice was shaky and I braced for his retreat. Certainly there was some hole behind that rock he could heave himself down.
“Hey,” he mumbled back, wrapping the towel around his waist and sitting on the flat ledge of sea-bathed stone.
I made my way to the edge of the wall, keeping a five foot space of uncertainty between us
“I just wanted to say,” I started, wanting to get out as much as possible before he decided he’d heard enough, “that I’m sorry about this morning. I wasn’t ... I wasn’t all the way honest with you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m ... just ... that’s all I can say.”
Regan stared straight ahead, watching the water, maybe, or the space above it. He nodded once, no change in his face to tell me if he accepted my apology or was just acknowledging that I spoke.
After a few seconds of silence, I figured it was the latter, and decided I should leave. Leave him alone with the grief of that still unopened letter splattered all over his face. He didn’t want me, a liar, there to help him deal with what was the loss of a true love.
I took a few steps backward, sketching his silhouette into my memory so I could have a happy place to call upon in the days and months ahead. A friend. Even if it was all over. Finally, I turned, unable to keep my head up as a heroine might do in the movies, looking down at my chipping pedicure as I walked away.
“Georgia,” he called out, sounding as tired as I felt, “wait.”