Page 31 of Ebbing Tides
She sniffled and held her head higher. “No, you know what? You're right. I'mnotan asshole. I felt the way I did because I was right. Luke was a loser. He always was a loser … but …”
“You loved him,” I finished for her without even a smidgen of jealousy to back up my words. Even if he was the reason she hadn't given me the chance to kiss her years ago.
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Too much.”
“No such thing,” I argued.
She laughed and opened her eyes, leveling me with a challenge in her gaze. “Don't say that. Remember, I haven't finished telling you my story.”
“Well then,” I said, waving the waitress over to get the check, “it’s a good thing I still want to listen to you.”
***
We strolled along, past the Statue of Elizabeth Montgomery, around Old Town Hall, through Derby Square, and near the Peabody Essex Museum. I played tour guide, using what little knowledge I had to point out places of importance, and despiteit being the end of February, not once did I notice the cold. And maybe that was thanks to my coat or that spring was lingering in the air, but I chalked it up more to the woman at my side, who exuded more warmth than a roaring fireplace.
All the while, she told me her tale. The years she had spent alone, taking college classes while working at her dad's shop and a local pharmacy. She got her bachelor's and master's degrees in business management, with the intent of running her father’s shop one day. She dated around a bit, had a couple of boyfriends, but her heart had belonged to Luke, despite understanding that a relationship with him would be unlikely to be anything more than toxic.
“And I thought about you,” she confessed, looking up at me as we wandered. “Sometimes, I'd think about what would've happened if I had just let you kiss me. How different things could've been.”
“I thought about you too,” I said since we were in the mood for confessions. “A lot actually.”
She sighed. “I, um … I looked you up. A couple of times. Not … not much or anything, but … a couple.”
I turned my head abruptly, startled by this bit of information. Of course, I would've been able to find easier than she would've been. I hadn't had her full name while she had mine. I'd been in the military. I'd been in a handful of small-time news articles. But my mind raced, wondering what exactly she had found. What she knew.
“I read about the attack,” she said, lowering her eyes, like she was ashamed to admit it. “I knew you had been injured and discharged.”
I grunted in reply, those old wounds tearing open with the mention.
“Can I ask how you were injured?”
I cleared my throat loudly and lifted my hand to tap my ear. “IED blast made me deaf.”
“Oh, wow,” she uttered, her face falling. “Both ears or just …”
“Both,” I answered. “They told me that, um … my eardrums were likely more fragile due to ear infections or something as a kid, so they were more susceptible to damage.”
“Did you have a lot of ear infections?”
I huffed a bitter chuckle. “No, but my dad liked to use me as his punching bag, so …”
“Oh God, I'm so sorry. You had told me about that, and I forgot,” she said, berating herself. “I’m such a—”
“It's fine. That was a long time ago.”
She turned away and nodded. Her mood had shifted; she was pitying me, and I needed her to stop. I didn't want her pity. I just wanted to know her and, if she wanted to, for her to know me … even the bad parts.
“So, um”—I brushed my elbow against her shoulder—“when did you get back together with Luke?”
Her chest heaved with a deep breath, and immediately, I sensed I'd hit on something sensitive. She raised her eyes to the Grimshawe House, just across the street from the Old Burying Point. She squinted her eyes in the late afternoon sun. It'd be setting soon. I needed to get her back to Charlie's place and get myself to work, but, fuck, I didn't want to leave this moment. Iwanted to live here forever, wrapped in a combination of cold and warmth that left me so wonderfully discombobulated.
“We got back together after he was in prison,” she admitted on a sigh, as if speaking the words aloud had been a relief.
“Prison?” I asked, startled as I turned from the ancient house.
Her weary gaze met mine. “Charlie really hasn't told you anything, huh?”
“Chuck …Charlie… and I are …” I lifted one shoulder. “Coworkers, I guess. We're friendly—friends, I mean. But we don't talk much.”
