Page 102 of We'll Meet Again

He glanced at the crowd. “Do you?”

She smiled. “For you, I’ll make time.”

She excused herself, and then Ethan followed her into the hallway and up the stairs. She led the way to the master bedroom, so he stood by the doorway while she crossed the room to the dresser, opening the top drawer.

“It’s not much, but…he wanted you to have it,” she said, her eyes shining as she held a small black box out to him. “You were very special to him, Ethan.”

He blinked away the wetness that welled up in his eyes as he opened the box. Inside was Coach Larry’s watch. The one he used to time their runs and set pieces and check to make sure they never ran over time for practice. Ethan had seen it nearly every day growing up. He ran a gentle finger over the face.

“I can’t…” he trailed off. “I can’t accept this, it’s -”

“He wanted you to have it,” she said again. “Really, he did. It was in his will and everything.” She paused for a beat. “I know it’s not fancy like those Apple Watches people wear these days, so it can’t count your steps or anything, but -”

He cut her off by pulling her into a hug. It surprised her at first, but she leaned into his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I love it,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

She pulled away to look him in the eyes. Up close, he could see the exhaustion in hers, they were red and puffy, but still as kind as he always remembered. They watered anew as she looked him over.

“He always had such a soft spot for you,” she said. “And he was so proud.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. He drew a deep breath. “And I was proud to know him. Still am.”

A tear slid down her cheek as she attempted a smile. She wiped it away.

“Oh, my,” she said. “We’re getting awfully mushy up here, aren’t we?”

“I’d say it’s allowed,” he replied.

She cleared her throat. “So…I heard you were seeing somebody back in London. Did you bring her with you?”

He stiffened and released her hand. Losing Coach Larry was like an open wound. And every time he thought of Billie, it was like someone had thrown salt on it. The sting was so raw. He almost flinched away from it.

“We, uh…we broke up,” he choked out.

“Oh,” she said, with sympathy in her voice. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too. But I’ll be alright.”

He wished that were true. Since leaving London, he’d hardly slept. He missed Billie so much, each thought of her felt like a fist slamming into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. And when he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face. Her laughter rang in his ears. The warm, vanilla scent of her lingered around him like smoke. He woke one night, his arm already reaching out for her, only to find the cool cotton of an empty pillow. For a fleeting second he wondered which would be more painful - another day without Billie or walking into head on traffic.

He returned his focus to Mrs. Lowe and offered his arm. “Ready to face the masses again?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she joked, and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

The rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, but not soothing enough for Ethan to feel sleepy. He gazed out at the moonlight reflecting on the rocking water, glimmering along the crests, and he longed for Billie. With a wistful sigh, he leaned against the railing of Betty’s back porch, rubbing the headache out of his temples.

After the funeral, Ethan and Betty left for her Carolina Beach home. He’d always enjoyed the coast, and hoped that going would help him feel like it was a real getaway. But nothing stopped his thoughts of Billie.

The more he thought about it - and he thought about it constantly - the worse he felt about what he said. Maybe he had jumped the gun by asking her to go to the funeral. Maybe he should have been more understanding. But then again, he still wished that she had been. And in his heart, he knew he deserved someone who was willing to be there for him.

On the other hand, he wondered if he had let his own fear get the better of him. He didn’t want to be in another relationship where he was doing all the giving. And he knew Billie was trying. So why didn’t he just let her try at her own pace? That brought him right back around to him needing her to push through when he was so low. The back and forth in his mind was relentless, especially now that the funeral was over and there was nothing else to occupy him.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he missed her terribly. There was a hole in his heart where she used to be, and he felt the chasm every time he breathed.

“What are you doing up?”

He turned around at the sound of Betty’s voice. She pushed the screen door open and stepped through, wrapping her bathrobe tighter around her against the cool ocean breeze.

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