Page 26 of Diving In

When he averted his gaze, I worked up the courage to give my attention back to Cal, and when I did, I couldn’t quite comprehend the look he had on his face. He appeared worried, maybe even a little bit anxious, which was something I hadn’t seen from him yet.

“Jack begged me to make sure you got those letters after he was gone. He made me promise, and given how desperate he seemed for you to read them, it was a promise I would’ve never broken. But I didn’t know what the letter said, Georgia,” Cal explained.

With Cal’s admission came the realization that this breakfast was only so that he could confirm he’d followed through on his promise to Jack, and something about that was upsetting to me.

“I imagine that’s the only reason you asked me to this breakfast?” I asked a bit dramatically. “Well, congrats, you’ve done your job,” I said as I grabbed my purse and got up to leave.

It was clear Jack wasn’t the only one keeping secrets around here. Jack’s secrets I could handle, but Cal’s stung far worse. I was angry and overwhelmed, but more than that,

I was hurt.

Making my way to the exit, I tried to catch one more glimpse of the mysterious boy. As my eyes landed on him, I found that he was—once again—looking directly at me, and he didn’t appear the least bit bothered by the fact that I had caught him staring at me for a second time.

I broke our connection this time and tried to get to my bike to get the hell out of there before Cal could catch up to me.

As I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, I decided to give Cal another piece of my mind. “Honestly, I’m so used to every man in my life letting me down, I’m not even surprised by this.” I turned around as I said, “I just wanted you to be diff—” I stopped short as soon as my eyes landed on a boy who was definitely not Cal.

Hand still placed on my shoulder, the boy said, “Sorry to bother you. You just look like someone…”

Now that we were so close, I realized he looked a lot less like Fletcher than I thought, but he still resembled parts of him. His eyes were big, round, and the perfect shade of almond brown.

I stood frozen, unable to find the words to respond.

“Wrong person, sorry,” he mumbled, abruptly vanishing before I could catch my breath, and standing in his place was Cal.

Not only did I have zero words to say to the kid, but I had now delayed my exit, allowing Cal to catch up to me.

“Georgia, I’m sorry. That’s not the reason… Okay, it’s not theonlyreason I asked you to breakfast, and I didn’t mean it to come off like that either. I just know those letters were really significant to Jack, and I wanted to make sure you got them, that’s all.”

“So, thereismore than one. Where are the others, Cal?” I said, homing in on his use of “letters.”

He looked down, his eyelashes masking his expression. “Yes, there’s more than one.”

“And the others?” I asked again, not satisfied with the answer.

“You’ll find them, trust me,” he said. I didn’t know what it was that lingered in his tone, but it sounded a lot like disappointment.

“That’s not the half-assed answer I was looking for.” My voice was harsher than before. I hopped on my bike without another word and started pedaling.

The warm, salty wind on my face, the sun shining down on me, and the loud roar of the waves crashing along the shore was everything I needed. Jack had always said that the ocean was free therapy, and honestly, he might have been on to something.

In true Jack fashion, he had somehow managed to completely uproot my well-planned-out life and drag me back to the one place I said I would never return, all from the grave. Well, he could fuck off. My fear of the ocean didn’t really even qualify as a fear. It was more of a dislike of the great unknown, and there was simply nothing wrong with that if you asked me.

And let’s be real, the man never even faced his own fears. Take manning up and being the husband and dad that my mom and I deserved after Fletcher’s death for example. What the fuck had given him the nerve to think that he could hold me accountable for something he knew so little about?

When my legs felt like jelly, I finally stopped pedaling and found a quaint, deserted beach a couple miles outside of town. I decided it was probably best to chill and let my emotions die down a bit, so I did what I always did when I hit a roadblock: I called Ivy.

“Hi, G!” she said, answering on the first ring.

“Hey, Ivy.” I paused for a few seconds. “I miss you,” I said, emotion welling in my voice.

“How is everything? I’ve been dying to hear from you, but I didn’t want to call because I know you like to process things on your own terms and all that.”

Silence stretched between us as I fought—unsuccessfully—to hold back tears. Within seconds, I felt the burning as they began to roll down my cheeks. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath so she wouldn’t hear my shaky inhales.

Despite my best efforts, Ivy knew. She knew me better than I knew myself—always had, always would.

“G, I just want to hug you so big right now. I know whatever you’re going through is really fucking hard, but over and over again you’ve proved that you can survive hard things. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

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