Page 155 of Forget Me Not

“Reid. I need to find Reid. I need to tell him that I love him.” I go to stand, but stop myself, almost forgetting the letter stashed in my pocket. Stooping back down, I grab the small hand shovel I had shoved in my pocket and open up a small hole above Jack’s grave. Finally, I curl the letter into a scroll and place it along with my wedding ring in the hole, covering it with dirt and letting the words I poured over last night until three in the morning sink into the earth.

“Hopefully, you’ll read this,” I murmur. “And hopefully, wherever you are, you’re happy. I hope your pain is gone and I hope you don’t have to struggle anymore. I hope you won’t forget me. I won’t forget you.”

Leaning down, I place a kiss to the top of his tombstone and force my legs to stand.

“Goodbye, Jack.”

I have been running my entire life.

Whether from my father, life, responsibilities . . .

Now, it’s starting to catch up to me.

The waters up here are cold and harsh. The winds are stronger than any storm I’ve ever been out in and I can’t escape the feeling that at any second, the ship’s going to capsize. The way it rocks . . . it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

The other guys all seem used to this. A couple are new to the Stargazer (stupid name for a ship), but all but me have been on these waters their entire life.

So, why the fuck was I picked to be their captain?

Life sucks here and I know you probably don’t want to hear it—not that you’ll ever read this, anyway, but I miss home. I miss Port Nova. I miss the waters. Hope’s Grace and the lobsters. Fuck, I miss you.

I know you probably hate me, leaving like I did, but . . . I couldn’t say goodbye. Still can’t. I refuse to accept that you’re gone. Call me selfish, but I can’t do it.

I never claimed to be a strong man. I think that’s pretty evident in the way I can’t stay in one place too long. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t get your scent out of my head, like you’re a ghost, hanging around the dark and dusty confines of the captain’s quarters of the ship.

I’ve committed every inch of you to memory, like a fucking lunatic, but it’s not enough. You’ve got a freckle on your ankle. You’ve got a little, almost invisible, scar on your hip. The way your eyes are blue, but just in the very center, there’s this fucking green that lights them up when you’re looking at me.

I remember it all.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about leaving at the next port. I won’t, but that thought’s still there, festering until it keeps me up at night.

At some point, I have to make the decision. Whether to leave you in the past to move on or come back and try to salvage whatever that was between us.

Because what the fuck was it, Nova?

Am I fucking in love with you? What does it feel like? I can’t really articulate what I’m feeling. I’m not as smart as you. What I do know, without a doubt though, is I can’t go a single fucking second on this ship without feeling like there’s a hole in my chest.

I know you’d probably tell me I’m crazy. That we made a deal. The summer. That was it. The end.

But what if I came home and you were having the same thoughts I am?

What if we settled down. Bought that big fucking house and made it our own?

What if we had babies that had your smile, my hair, and your eyes?

I know. A lot of what if’s for the man who left you alone in the middle of the night.

What do you do when life finally gives you everything you’ve been asking for?

And then you give it back?

I just . . . fuck.

Emptiness.

That’s all that’s on the Bering Sea.

I wake up before dawn when the water is pitch black, like a void, calling out to the ship.

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