Page 87 of Taming Waves

Shit. I knew it wasn’t pretty, but hearing it was so much worse than I imagined makes me sick.

“They put me on medications that made me feel like a zombie. I just didn’t care about anything—not eating, not my classes, or my friends. Eventually, my mom got tired of trying to force me to go to school, and I stopped going altogether. I missed out on everything—homecoming, senior prom, and even graduation. I mostly just stayed in my room and barely got out of bed.”

I approach her. Although she raises her hands and begins to back up, she allows me to reach her. I gently take her face in my hands.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” I say as tears stream down her cheeks.

She starts shaking her head, and I let go. Then, she twists and begins to walk away. I wrap my arms around her from behind and hold her tightly.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have been here,” I say into her hair, and her body starts to tremble with her cries.

We sink to the floor, and I hold her tightly as she lets it all out. All the pain and anger flow from her, and I absorb every ounce until she goes limp against my chest.

Once her tears subside, she looks up at me. Her hand traces the tattoo that starts on her shoulder and winds down around her arm—a vine adorned with big, beautiful roses. She rolls her arm to reveal the underside, where one unopened bloom sits among the others on the vine. Gently, she fingers the ink, and then her eyes meet mine.

“Emily Rose,” she whispers, her eyes welling with tears once again.

It finally hits me. The baby was real for her. It wasn’t just an “it.” It was a “she,” and Audrey loved her. Her rose that never had the chance to bloom.

I felt relieved because I thought the universe had resolved our dilemma, giving us more time to live and grow up ourselves. I was happy for the second chance at being a carefree kid, but she had already fallen in love with our baby. When our baby died, I left her to grieve alone and went off on a boat.

I bring my hand up and cup her bicep and squeeze.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I don’t deserve a place in the life you’ve rebuilt for yourself. I was a coward, and I deserted you. I should have been here for everything, and I’d give anything to go back. But I can’t, baby. I can’t change what I did, but I swear to God, if you’ll have me, I’ll never leave you again. No matter what life throws at us, I’ll hold you and love you through it all for the rest of our lives. You’ll never have to face anything alone again.”

“Something inside of me is broken, Parker, and you can’t fix it.”

I slide my hand down her arm and clasp her wrist. I lift it to my lips and place a gentle kiss on the delicate skin.

“I don’t want to fix it. I just want to share it,” I whisper against her pulse point.

“Why? Why would you want any part of this pain?”

I bring my eyes to hers.

“Because it’s my pain too. You’ve carried it by yourself long enough. It’s time for me to bear my half.”

We sit here in silence, holding each other for what feels like hours.

Eventually, she places her hand over mine and tilts her face up. “Okay,” she murmurs in surrender before sealing her mouth to mine.

It is a soft, slow, salty kiss, mixed with both our tears, shed for the loss that we endured all those years ago. It’s full of forgiveness and love as we both finally let go.

It’s the best damn kiss of my life.

Audrey

“Are you ready for this?” I ask as we approach my parents’ front door. Parker glances back at the street where his mother and sisters are parking their car. He looks back at me and smiles. “Absolutely.”

We wait for his family to join us before I open the door, and the five of us step into the foyer, where the warmth of the holidays envelops us. The polished heart pine floors gleam under the glow of the low-hanging chandelier, and the twinkling lights of the fifteen-foot Christmas tree reflect off the mahogany banister of the sweeping staircase that leads to the second floor. We hang our coats and bags on the hall tree alongside the others, and I call out, “Hello, we’re here!”

My mother emerges from the kitchen, wearing a jewel green silk blouse and black slacks, covered by a fall fruit-printed apron. She hurries over to greet us. “Welcome!” Parker steps forward and kisses her on the cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mamie! You look stunning,” he says. Then he wraps an arm around his mother’s waist and gently guides her forward. “You remember my mom, Valerie, and my sisters, Rainey andPresley.” My mom nods. “Of course I do. Val, girls, please make yourselves at home.”

Valerie smiles. “Thank you for having us. This is for you. Audrey says it’s your favorite,” she says as she hands my mother a box containing her homemade sweet potato pie. Mom lifts the lid, and her eyes light up. “Oh, it is! Thank you so much!”

Rainey and Presley approach Mom and hand her a bottle of wine each. “Your house is so beautiful, and I love your tree,” Presley says.

“Thank you! Rand gives me a hard time for putting up the decorations so early. He thinks we should wait until after Thanksgiving, but it makes me happy. My philosophy is that the turkey tastes better, and I feel even more grateful when I’m happy, so why not?” Mom quips, and both girls giggle, expressing their agreement. “Now, dinner is almost ready, and my brother is serving apple cider cocktails in the parlor through that door on the left. They’re delicious! You guys should go have him make you one.”

---