Page 24 of Make Me Feel Again

In the two months I didn’t see or speak to him, I kept my word on the morning and night texts, and sometimes I would wake up to a long text, telling me how hard it was not seeing me. I even caught glimpses of him outside sitting in his car through the gap in the curtains, not letting him see me, and it soothed the ache I had in my chest from the day I left his apartment. My body craves climbing in bed with him and letting him hold me. Let him do what he does best and take all the pain away, but I can’t, not here.

I roll out of bed, heading for the kitchen, but of course it won’t be that easy. There stands—thankfully, fully clothed—Cash, and the blackness under his eyes is probably the worst I’ve ever seen.

“Cash?” I say, my voice still hoarse.

He jolts, clearly lost in his own head. I know the feeling.

“I’m just getting a coffee, I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

I sigh. “Don’t. I mean, you don’t have to hide away in the room.” I glance over his shoulder out to the beach. “It’s too nice outside to hide away in there.” I offer a soft smile.

Cash turns around, leaning against the doorway with the coffee in his hand, and stares out to the beach. “It really is stunning here.”

I walk up and stand next to him, taking in the sound of waves. “He did good.” I smile.

“Of course he did,” Cash whispers. “He would have given you the world if he could.”

I nod, knowing that’s true, he would have done anything for me.

He jolts, then turns to me. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy Birthday.” He smiles. “Well, it’s two days too late, but I went to your apartment to say it, then I realized you weren’t there.”

I glance at Cash, then back to the beach. “Thank you.” Standing next to him has my stomach knotting. “I’m sorry I worried you.” I text Toni last night, even though I know Cash would have text her, but hearing how worried she was, made me feel like a selfish bitch. She called me out, like I knew she would, and then told me to have my time but to meet up with her as soon as I got back. I knew before coming here what I needed to do, but Cash being here has messed everything up.

“It’s okay. I was just really worried.” He sighs, taking a sip of his coffee. “How long are you here for?”

“Not the full time. Jace booked it for two weeks. I told them I would only be here for five days.” I wanted to keep the next thing to myself, but I need him to understand why I had to be here, why it was so important to get my time.

“I actually came here for a reason, Cash.” I gaze over the waves.

“I have Jace with me.” I feel Cash’s stare on the side of my face, then I turn to him.

“I have some of his ashes that Bridge gave me a while back. I know you all have some, and of course I have my necklace”—I touch it around my neck—“but you know how much me and Jace loved the beach.” I turn to look out to sea again. “I know nothing would make him happier if he was free here, Cash.”

“You’re going to scatter some of his ashes here?”

I nod. “Yes, I couldn’t think of anywhere else more perfect. He booked this for us, so I want a part of him to always remain here.” Cash clenches his jaw, and his eyes blink rapidly, swimming with unshed tears. I don’t know how else to say this so I’m just going to say it.

“It also feels like a good way of me saying my goodbyes, Cash.”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean, we said our goodbyes at his funeral.” He just keeps staring straight ahead.

“I know that is what happens for most people, but I don’t think I ever really said my goodbyes. This guilt—”

“It won’t leave after saying your goodbyes, Ry.” He stands over me, looking down and points to his chest. “It still stays there, eating away at you.” His jaw clenches as he gulps. “I said my goodbyes, but I still feel riddled with guilt every single day,” he mutters.

I nod again. “Except every single thought I have of you. Every single time I crave your touch or crave to hear your voice.” Tears fill my eyes. “I feel like I’m cheating on him, I see his face, his disappointment, the sadness, the pain . . . It kills me.” My voice breaks as the tears cascade down my face. His eyes roam over my face, like he wants to take the pain away, and one touch from him will, but the minute he steps away from me, it’s back again. Then all I see and feel is Jace’s pain.

I rest my hand over my heart. “He lives inside here, and it hurts,” I whisper. Cash palms my face, and I let out a heavy sigh and lean into his touch. I close my eyes, and the pain slowly leaves my body.No. No.

“No.” I step back so he can’t touch me. “I need to do this on my own, please.” His jaw clenches, his eyes go dark, and then he nods before walking past me and out of the kitchen. Leaving me to swim in the pain, and my heart breaks that much more because the one person who can stop it all, I can’t have, not right now.

I haven’t seen Cash since I went and laid on the beach, even though I glanced at the doors to his room a couple of times. They are open but no sign of him. A few people have been around the beach, and hearing their laughing and happiness has been nice. I stayed in my little bubble near the beach house.

I have had Jace’s ashes next to me all day, waiting for the beach to clear so I can do this. Every time I look at the box, sadness engulfs me. I’ll always have a part of him around my neck and deep in the depths of my heart, but doing this will be like setting him free. I have to. The crimson sun setting lights up the sky and creates a mirror on the water, the crystal-blue sea mixing in with the pink and orange. It’s beautiful. I pull my phone out to take a picture of this moment, never wanting to forget it. A slight breeze cools my hot skin, and strands of my hair caress my face. I pull on my coverup, pick up the box, and walk toward the water’s edge.

“This couldn’t be anymore perfect, Jace.” Jace loved a sunset, so I know this is the time. The cool water laps against my feet as I walk into it, my feet sinking into the sand. I stand knee deep in the sea and hug the box to my chest. Staring down at the fast current swirling around my legs, I know I need to let him go. I throw my head back as the tears fall. “Fuck,” I cry out. My chest aches, my whole body aches. I try swallow the impending sob, but it doesn’t stay down. Wailing, I let my tears mix with the sea.

“I can’t do this,” I cry. “I can’t fucking do this,” I scream out.

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