Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
I nod. I remember that day. Gage was standing on his board, shouting at Crew to get out of the water. Crew just sat on his and laughed and then paddled to Gage and they floated in together. Later, we had a bonfire on the beach. We told stories over marshmallows until the sun nearly came back up again.
I feel wetness touch my eyes and I bat my eyelashes to try to keep the tears from falling.
“Damn it, Julia. I’m so sorry. If I could switch places with him, I would.”
I turn to look at him and he’s watching me. The same pain that’s downright killing me inside is also written all over his face. It’s enough to send the tears down my cheeks, hot against my skin.
We look at each other and something sweeps across his face. It’s a look of resolution, I think, like he’s just decided something. All I know is that for the first time since the funeral, he reaches for me.
He stands and takes the few steps to me. “Come here,” he says and pulls me against him. My body stiffens momentarily, thrown off by the gesture as much as the physical contact. As my cheek hits his chest, I come to my senses.
“No,” I breathe, trying to shove him away. “Don’t touch me.”
My voice betrays me and cracks. His shirt is a haze in front of me, the tears blurring everything together. I press both palms against his chest and push with everything I have. “Get back, Crew.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps both his arms around me and pulls me in so tightly that I can’t get free.
“Crew,” I cry as everything inside me erupts. I try to pull away, hitting him in the sides where my hands are pinned.
“Stop it.”
It sounds more like a plea than a command, the words broken with my sobs. I need to get away. I know that. But it feels good to be comforted, to have someone to lean on. And I can’t get away, anyway. That in itself feels good, to not have to think about whether I should or shouldn’t let him be nice to me for once.
Crew has never crossed the barrier between us since Gage’s death and I’m not sure what’s changed. It feels strange having his arms around me, but so familiar at the same time. I can’t force myself to pull away, even though a voice inside me tells me to. My emotions are so mixed that I can’t think straight.
I lay my head against the rough material of his jacket and give in to the tears that have I’ve battled all day. I try to keep it reined in, trying to keep it from splitting me into two. I knew I’d have this moment eventually, but I thought it would be in the bath after Everleigh went to bed. Having this moment with Crew almost makes it worse.
We stand there, in the middle of my kitchen, and mourn together— the loss of someone we both loved. For a moment, I set aside blame and fault and what could’ve been and just allow myself to grieve with the only person alive that feels the pain I feel.
I allow him to hold me while I release the devastation in waves. He just holds me tight and doesn’t say a word, rubbing my back with one of his calloused hands.
Finally, I sniffle back the tears and clear my throat, wiping my eyes with my hands before pulling away.
He opens his mouth to say something when Everleigh rushes into the room and throws herself at him. I take a step back and he bends down and hugs her, his eyes trained on me as she babbles on about her day. I use the opportunity to grab a tissue and dry my face before my daughter sees. “Are you staying for dinner, Uncle Crew?” Ever asks, zipping Crew’s jacket up and down. “Mommy is making spaghetti. She’s a good spaghetti maker.”
I keep my face blank, not sure what I want. Half of me wants him to leave, to have to suffer the night alone. To give me the space I need to miss my husband.
The other half wants him to stay, to have another person sitting at the table. For a distraction for Ever . . . and maybe for me.
Crew kisses Everleigh on the head and stands, clearing his throat. The lines on his face deepen and he drops his gaze slowly to my daughter. “No, monkey. I’m going to head on out now.”
“No . . . um . . . you know . . . if you want to stay for dinner, that’s fine.”
“Yay!” Everleigh cheers, doing a little dance.
A surprised look flickers across his face at my invitation. I’ve never invited him for dinner. I’ve never really even been nice to him in so long. I don’t even know why I am now. Maybe my defenses are down.