Page 51 of Tides That Bind

Finn rises from the chair. “Why not?”

I shrug.

Grabbing my file from the counter, Dr. Olson opens it to write down notes. “Maybe your friend here can convince you.”

“I’m his brother-in-law,” Finn clarifies.

“Even better. Familial influence,” Dr. Olson says with a tight smile.

I flex my hand, frowning when my index finger still remains outward. “He’s my acting-warden. My sister had a meeting she couldn’t get out of.”

Dr. Olson chuckles. “Well, whatever—or whoever—it takes to get you to physical therapy makes no difference to me. It’s the most crucial part of recovery and doing it now will help build back strength in your hand and arm you lost since surgery. Certainly would make paddling out easier. I’m sure you’re eager to get back on the water.”

I frown, thinking about yesterday in the car with Harper.

“Advil as needed for the swelling and soreness,” Dr. Olson continues. “But both of which will subside the more you begin to use your hand now that the cast is off.”

Finn folds his arms. “So no restrictions? It’s fine for him to get back on a board?”

I suck in a breath like I’ve been punched in the gut and Iwonder how loud the sound is because the doctor narrows his eyes at me.

“No, no restrictions.” He shakes his head, answering Finn’s question. “But of course, take it easy.”

Finn gives me a pat on the back before shaking Dr. Olson’s hand and we make our way out of the examination room.

“What do you think?” he asks me as we walk out to the parking lot. “Want to go rip it?”

I press my lips together and look down at the gauntness of my forearm, wrist, and hand before I open the door. “Nah.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, Finn sighs. “Riley, surfing is who you are.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I bang my head back against the seat. “What is it aboutmycar that makes people want to get all meaningful?”

“Are you afraid of the water?”

I keep my head pressed against the seat but turn it to face Finn. “Afraid?” I scoff.

“Yeah. You know, scared. After the accident.” Finn grimaces. “I don’t know, it would make sense if you’re scared to be out there.”

“No.” I take a deep breath, trying to relax my shoulders. “No, I’m not afraid to surf. Never have. Never will be.”

Finn shifts beside me. “Then what is it, man? Riley, you got out of that car and are lucky to be alive.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth.

In theory, the idea of surviving over perishing sounds like the win. But what Finn doesn’t understand—whatnoone understands—is that when you lose that kind of battle, that’s it.

Dead.

Done.

Over.

But the people you leave behind, they’re the real losers. Because they lostyou. When you’re dead, there’s no one to miss, no one to remember, no one to think is missing out onsodamnmuch, like watching his kid grow up or coming home to his wife every day.

Nate is missing all those things thatI’mdoing, like going to Lucas's Career Day. He’s missing out on the things I could do, like teach his kid to surf.

My gain is his loss. My win—surviving, according to Finn—would never exist without Nate’s death. That’s one hell of a pill for me to swallow.

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