Page 130 of Desolation

But I know that is a lie. I know we both felt something real.

I can only wish the tide will bring us back to the other.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Landon

One Year Later…

I watch the TV at the gym but turn away as reporters discuss the sentencing for Michael Waters Sr. He was convicted a few weeks ago of treason as well as aiding and abetting a terrorist organization. Michael Jr. knew what was happening but was not directly involved. He got a plea bargain and was kept out of jail but he did lose his seat in the Senate. I had to see Mari on TV multiple times as she was accosted by reporters as she left the court house. And every damn time my chest ached when I saw her face.

Her hair has grown over the last year, just long enough to cover those perfect breasts. Her hair is still a caramel color but hints of blond peek through. She looks good. Really good despite the drama of court. She looks happy like she can finally breathe. I know all she wanted was a divorce. That too was on the news.

“You talk to her?” my brother asks me as he lifts weights with me.

I shake my head. “No. I haven’t talked to her since the day I left her broken on a beach in Massachusetts.”

“You still love her?”

“I never stopped.”

“What’s your therapist say?”

“That you should stop asking fucking questions.”

He laughs at me as he sets down a barbell and takes a seat on a bench. “You know I am happy you started seeing one. They really do help.”

He’s right but I don’t want to admit it. The first few weeks after I broke things off with Mari I was filled with anger. I took it out on everyone. Almost like when Sam died. I got shitfaced when I couldn’t take it anymore. Jackson suspended me and told me I couldn’t come back until I got my shit together.

I called Ryder after that happened and he flew out the next day. He let me talk to him, tell him all the shit that was in my head that I was always too scared to admit. Even more things than I had told Mari. He helped me find a therapist. And I’ve been going back every week since.

I learned a lot about myself. The reason I shut people out. The reason I blamed myself for everything. And I learned to cope with my grief. The grief of my childhood, the grief of losing Sam and my mom, the grief that turned me to alcohol.

I’ve even made amends with Aubrey. We have a standing date once a month. We don’t talk about missing Sam or the baby that never got to see this world. Instead we talk about all the good things, the memories. I finally understand why she is in a better place because I am in one too.

“Should we get home to Tacoma? She said she was going to make us dinner.”

“I sure as hell hope she isn’t,” Ryder says. “Your kitchen might be burned down.”

“She still hasn’t figured it out. Even with the baby?”

Ryder laughs. “Hell no. In fact, I think she is hoping she can feed the kid baby food for the rest of his life.”

I chuckle as I pick up my gym bag. Ryder and Tacoma came out so I could meet my nephew. I tried to get to White Creek to see them but ever since I returned to work it has been busier than ever. And I don’t think I am quite ready to be that close to my hometown yet.

We get back to my apartment to find a bunch of take out bags on the counter.

“I tried to make pasta. But I burned the pasta. So I just ordered Chinese.”

Ryder wraps his arms around his wife and kisses her head. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Shut up, Ry.” She tries to act mad but he kisses her and she melts into him.

We enjoy our Chinese food as we talk about their future. Ryder is hoping that I find Mariela, that we can make amends. I think he has turned into a hopeless romantic after finally getting his dream girl.

I drive them to the airport two days later then head to the cemetery to pay my respects to Henry. He died a month ago today. I was there when he died. He actually called me Landon for the first time ever and let me call him Henry. He told me not to give up on Mari. That one day we would find each other again.

I cried for the first time that day since I told Mari about Sam’s death. I cried for Henry and I cried for myself. I finally forgave myself for the years of pent up anger and regret I had. All the work I did with my therapist finally coming to a fold, and I let my pain out.

---