Page 21 of Whispers on the Water

Greg’s shoulders droop as he admits, “Yeah, alright. I’m a tool. But look, I just got divorced nine months ago. Okay? It was brutal. So yeah, dating scares me.” Divorce—a word that resonates too closely with my own past.

I had danced around the idea of forever with Kevin. We weren’t even that close before he proposed. Getting married should have been the happiest day of my life, but the nerves and second-guessing ruined that. Not to mention that only a few months after I walked down the aisle, my mother passed. A part of me knows I did it for her; it gave her the satisfaction of knowing that at least one of her daughters would be taken care of after she was gone.

But if my mother had known the truth, she would have never encouraged the engagement. Kevin’s affection dwindled rapidly after our wedding, his possessiveness and controlling nature emerging as he joined his father’s business as a lawyer.

Greg, however, in the brief yet profound moments we’ve shared, has never made me feel constrained or belittled. His approach is gentle, seeking my consent for every step closer, patient even in my hesitance.

But there’s more lingering under his eyes. Something else he’s not telling me. My scrutiny is not missed, and he sighs. “I thought he was hurting you, and I can’t… fuck.” He shakes his head and then meets my gaze. “If you got hurt and I could stop it, I never would have forgiven myself.”

Despite the wisdom that screams caution, the sight of Greg’s desolation and the earnestness in his gaze compels me to act. I unfasten the bandana from my hair, tossing it aside. “Come on,” I invite, extending my hand towards him.

Without a moment’s delay, he takes it. “Where are we going?” Greg’s curiosity mirrors the uncertainty in his eyes.

“You need to surf,” I declare, guiding him toward the changing rooms. “Tilly, toss him some trunks,” I call out, fetching Big Blue from its spot on the wall. Tilly’s skepticism is evident in her furrowed brow as she brings me a set of borrowed shorts and gives them to me.

Her voice lowers to a whisper, laden with doubt. “You don’t believe him, do you? It’s clearly a line.”

But I find myself defending him. “I do. He didn’t hit anyone, even though he’d clearly been drinking and was furious. He’s three times the size of Tommy, and he never lifted a finger.”

Before I can say anything else, Tilly has a hand on my arm. “Sammy, think about this.”

I pat her fingers and smile. “I’m not afraid of him, Til. You’re the first person I would tell if I was. I swear.” Her eyes meet mine, and we have one of our patented silent conversations.

‘Men are dumb.’ Her eyes say.

‘Completely.’ I agree with a roll of my eyes.

Her gaze narrows, fire burning in her look before she flicks her eyes toward the changing room. But before she can say anything else, Greg emerges, decked in his shorts and brimming with energy. Though there is something else there too. His eyes are puffy and shining like just maybe, more went on in the changing room than putting on shorts.

He sucks in a long breath and raises both eyebrows before slapping his hands together. “Ready?”

“Yeah, hold on Cassanova. I need another sec,” Tilly says. She rushes over to my side and grabs me by the wrist. With more strength than I knew she had, she yanks me into the back hall. “Sam, you can’t be serious with this. He threatened Tommy. That’s like holding a knife at the Easter Bunny’s neck.”

That brings out a chuckle. “That’s quite the visual, Til.” But her face remains serious.

“I’m not joking around! I wanna nad-blast that guy into the next dimension,” she says, and I can see her jaw flexing as she looks over at the two men.

“And I will totally let you.” She claps her hands together, but I grab them and lower my brow. “If he does anything like this again.”

She rolls her head back and groans. “Fine. But take Tommy with you.”

I put my palm on my forehead. “Tilly—”

“No. I’m putting my foot down, Sam. Take him or I’ll crack Ruby.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You wouldn’t!” She gives me a look that clearly says, ‘try me’. “Ugh, yes, okay.” Walking away from her, I point a finger at Tommy. “You’re coming with.”

With a roll of his head, he jogs our way. “Guess I could use some hang time.” Before I know it, he’s snatching a shorter board for himself and handing Greg Big Blue.

The three of us are quiet as we leave the surf shack. The tropical setting would be a perfect backdrop to our impromptu surf session. Should be. But it’s not. It’s tense and weird. Tommy keeps shooting Greg daggers, and I’m trying not to notice.

It’s overkill to send along a bodyguard. Especially since Greg is so much bigger than Tommy. But it does feel nice to know both my friends care so much about me. I can’t help but imagine if I had that when Kevin was still around. Greg might have scared me for a split second but comparing the two men otherwise suddenly doesn’t seem fair. Not once, in all the times Kevin apologized, did I ever see his eyes red-rimmed and filled with regret.

Without a word, we jog across the hot pavement to the sand. My favorite wave is about a quarter mile south from the Surf Shack. It’s a smooth and easy right, perfect for hanging toes off the front of the board and not quite big enough to scare me. After walking along the wet sand for a while, we all get into the ocean. But it feels all wrong. Surfing is my way of leaving everything behind. Because who needs therapy when you have a surfboard and a total disregard for personal safety?

But that’s impossible to do when the issue at hand is literally surfing beside me. It’s so tense between us that I decide to hang back a little. Because sometimes, you need literal oceans between you and your problems. Stretching my hands overhead, I let the tiny waves lap at my ankles. The water is warm as it tickles my toes and I smile. Before I jump on the board, I fall backward into a wave, smiling as I collapse into the foam. The water envelopes me like a hug from an old friend. Bubbles all around me, I let the soothing feeling of being where I belong wash away the past 24 hours.

The ocean is my first love. It never disappoints me, scares me at a bar, or breaks down in a changing room after apologizing to me. It never confuses me by ignoring my calls or acting tough around Tommy.

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