Page 82 of Beacon

Silence settled back around us, this one somber. I waited for Owen to speak—whether to offer words of understanding or the condemnation I feared would follow such a confession. But he simply gathered me close, cradling me against himself as if he wanted to protect me from the sadness brought by such a memory.

“I’m so sorry, Marisa.”

The tears I’d fought to hold back burned my eyes. “If not for me, Mother wouldn’t have—” I said nothing more, having run out of words for the time being. My suppressed sob burst free, and I burrowed myself against Owen, and in this safe cocoon, my tears finally escaped. He held me as I cried, soothingly stroking my back.

We remained in this position for a long time. Each tear created a crack in the dam that had protected me all these years until it finally faltered. With this release, although my aching heart felt wrung from my tears, I felt lighter than I had in years as the heavy burden I’d borne was finally alleviated.

It was a long time before Owen finally spoke. “You and I are the same. We both feel responsible for losing someone precious to us. Was it guilt that robbed you of your voice?”

“Punishment,” I shakily managed. “Last words…from Mother—annoyed with my words—told mestop talking, so when she”—I swallowed the worddied, unable to say it—“I did.”

His arms tightened around me. “Oh, Marisa.” He considered his next words carefully. “I’m not surprised you’d respond in such a way, especially considering you were far too young to bear not only the tragedy of losing your mother but the burden of blame. But no matter how the storm resulted, her death was an accident; you didn’t create the storm on purpose.”

That didn’t change the fact it’d been created by me when I’d lost control of my magic.

Owen continued. “I have no doubt your mother treasured everything you had to say considering that’s how I feel. If I care so deeply, then I have no doubt she did as well. She would never want you to blame yourself for what happened.”

How could he possibly know that? I tipped my head back so he could see my inquiring expression as well as my desperation to believe him.

“That’s what my mother told me after Renee died,” he said. “As she helped me work through my grief, she taught me that rather than focusing on your guilt to instead remember your love for the one you’ve lost that causes your grief to be so painful. Eventually, my love for my sister was stronger than the sadness I felt.”

There was so much I ached to say in response, but I’d used my quota of words, too exhausted from the effort of stringing so many difficult ones together to form any new ones. But as usual with Owen, I didn’t need to speak for him to understand.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said. “And you no longer need to carry your burden alone. I’m here to bear it with you.”

To bear my burden with me.

It was amazing the power contained in such seemingly simple words. A shaft of light pierced the storm that had raged within me ever since Mother’s death. The fact it’d come from Owen only made it more bright and beautiful, a beacon that illuminated the darkness and dispelled the last of the shadows that had filled my heart for far too long.

And after all these years I finally began to feel peace.

CHAPTER29

We’d returned to the sea, a place that had once again become my haven. Dusk settled around us as we walked towards the dock where the boat gently bobbed, waiting patiently for our arrival, the only sound being the soft pattering of our footsteps against the sand along with the waves rolling across the shore. I always waited to speak until we were near the sea, for the ocean lent me courage.

It had been my idea to spend the evening with the ocean. Ever since I’d finally shared my darkest secret, part of me had been waiting for Owen to withdraw the friendship I’d come to rely on…only for him to treat me with the same kindness he always had. His acceptance and me finally alleviating the burden that I’d carried for so long made me eager to reconnect with the sea, a desire that had led to tonight’s excursion.

I’d collected several words throughout the day but had waited until tonight to entrust them to Owen. I’d been practicing them several times within my mind in order to have the courage to speak them when the time came. These miniature rehearsals had only made me more eager to converse with Owen in order to create another special moment that only existed between us.

We arrived at the dock just as dusk caressed the horizon. Owen stepped into the boat and reached up to help me. I hesitated only briefly and not nearly as long as the last time now that I’d grown to more fully trust not only Owen but the sea itself. I knew both would protect me.

The boat wobbled unsteadily as I stepped into it, causing me to nearly lose my balance. I was only spared falling by Owen’s heated touch upon my waist. My breath immediately caught as he steadied me.

“Are you alright?” His tone was soft, the same emotion that filled his eyes.

I started to nod…before pausing to speak instead. “Yes.”

At the sound of my voice, the corner of his mouth lifted. Even that simple word was enough for my shyness to overcome me. Cheeks warm, I lowered my eyes…until Owen’s fingers hooked beneath my chin to slowly lift my gaze to once more meet his.

“Don’t force it, Marisa.” His tone was so gentle, reminding me he was my safe harbor, an invitation for me to speak more.

Normally, I kept my desires to communicate with Owen to myself, but I wanted to confide in him more. The more words we exchanged, the more we built the bridge stretching across the last divide separating us. What had begun as a charade had deepened the longer we spent together, with words acting as the key to making whatever was between us finallyreal.

I sorted through the scrambled words I hadn’t prepared and took a wavering breath. “But…I want…” My fumbled sentence faltered and I couldn’t finish.

“I know you do,” he said. “But there’s no rush. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Despite his reassurances, I still felt pressured to speak. I had no idea how long I had to strengthen the thread connecting us. Speaking was easier with how much he cherished my words. With each I offered, I felt my trust in him grow, as if each added a drop to the surrounding ocean.

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