Hell on Heels

Beau squeezed my hand. “I bet you miss him.”

“I do.” I smiled as we passed children making castles in the wet sand.

Our hands swung in that natural way that people in sync with each other did.

I liked that, too.

“He sounded like a wonderful person.” Beau’s smooth voice took over the air.

“It’s my birthday, Charlie bear. You have to play with me.”

“I’ll get my dress dirty, Henry,” I whined.

He laughed. “You’re such girl, Charlie bear.”

“He was the best,” I whispered, as we bumped shoulders.

It felt nice to talk about Henry this way.

We had so many happy moments that became overshadowed with our loss.

Sometimes we were so consumed with missing him we forgot to remember how he was.

I didn’t want to forget how Henry was, not ever.

“This is the first of his birthday’s I’ve spent away from home,” I confessed. “I don’t mean to be distant. I suppose I’ve just found myself in my head often as of late.”

Beau stopped and pulled me by the hand gently into his front. “I didn’t realize, Charleston.” His face was etched with concern. “I’m sorry to have taken you away from your family this weekend, of all weekends.”

I shook my head and pressed my palms against his chest. “Please don’t be sorry.” I smiled. “I need to find new ways to be happy.”

Beau swept my hair from my shoulder as the wind blew.

“And Henry.” I paused. “He would have loved it here. It was somewhere he always wanted to go, but never got the chance to.”

“Then I’m glad you could be here to experience it for him.” Beau pressed his lips to my forehead.

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I leaned into his kiss.

He was always so accepting of me, of my flaws.

He was a saint, through and through.

“Would you like to make a new tradition for Henry’s birthday?” he asked against my hair.

He was so warm.

Sometimes he even reminded me of Henry.

“I’d like that,” I whispered.

He twirled me in a circle like he often did, and then we continued walking down the beach.

“Did you have something in mind?”

I looked at the waves breaking and nodded. “Actually, that’s what I was working on.” I looked up at him. “On the porch, when you asked.”

“Oh?” He smiled.

I was letting him in and he didn’t take it for granted.

“I was writing him a letter,” I said. “I was thinking maybe I could put it the ocean the way they do in all the movies.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” he praised me. “I’ll find you a bottle when we get back.”

He draped our joined hands over my front, so that his arm was now also around my shoulders.

“Would you like to go back and work on it?”

I nodded. “Very much so.”

We took our time walking back up the beach to the cottage, where Beau doted on me for the afternoon as I poured over the short note I would write for Henry.

I was proud.

“All done?” He kissed my shoulder.

I nodded. “I think so.”

Setting the letter down on the small desk, I turned in his arms and kissed him.

It was slow, but full in the way that made you wish you could explode.

I worked the buttons on his dress shirt, and he lifted my dress over my head.

This was easy too.

Everything with him was.

He caressed me.

He worshipped me.

His touch was soft as I felt him on my skin.

We moved together like two souls in flight.

The breeze of the ocean on our sweat silken skin was a tease.

The heat of our bodies in the sheets built pressure enough to move mountains.

Everything about him was flawless.

His bones.

His heart.

His words.

I was a goddess in the arms of Beau Callaway.

He treasured me as we burned the evening light away.




“You’re beautiful.” Beau kissed my bare shoulder, as I lay face-down in our sheets.

Turning my head, I rested my cheek on the back of my hand and smiled. “So are you.”

“Will you read me your letter?” he asked.

My heart seized and he saw it in my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, Charleston. I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly.

I sat up, taking the sheets with me, and kissed his cheek.

“I think it might be nice to share it with someone,” I told him.

Wrapping the sheet around my body, I walked to the desk, grabbed the letter I’d written earlier today, and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Ten years. My god, has it really been that long?

Some days, it feels like only yesterday since you’ve been gone.

I miss you.

I know you know that, but I will never tire of reminding you.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish you were here with me.

I think about you often.

I wonder what you would have been like now. Would you be married? Would you have children? You’d have been such a wonderful father.

I pray you’ve found peace. I know I am trying too.

It’s hard.

Some days, it’s harder than I could have ever imagined, but you never wanted me to be afraid of life. I see that now.

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