Page 53 of My Sweetest Agony
He holds out a hand.
It’s the lifeline I need to move.
Shifting the urn into the crook of my right arm, I slide my palm against his. Rough callouses scrape across my skin, sending a little shiver and goosebumps pebbling over it. He squeezes gently, then starts walking, essentially forcing me to move, despite the fact that my legs don’t seem to want to move.
A thousand things I want to say to Drew race around my head, but there aren’t enough hours in my lifetime or words in the English language to truly encompass them all.
Our boots fall heavily on the wooden boardwalk, and Cam moves straight past the sign indicating the beach has been closed for hours, the emptiness of it swallowing us up the farther we walk until our boots move from wood to sand and sink in.
He leads me straight toward the water without hesitation, without any of the reservation trying to hold my heart back, and I let him. Because he’s right. If I had left this urn sitting on that mantle, it would have controlled me. It would have run my life for as long as it was there. I would have stared at it day and night, thought about what was in it, tortured myself with what-if questions.
They’ll still be there, but he won’t.
It’s time to let him go, even if parts of me aren’t ready.
I draw in a fortifying breath as we reach the lapping waves, the tide pulling at the grains of sand, trying to drag them out into the ocean.
Cam pauses short of the water, mere inches away, some of the stronger waves overtaking the steel toes of his boots. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye but then returns his attention to the water, to the way the bright moon overhead, breaking through the clouds, reflects off the incoming swells.
They roll toward us effortlessly and crash at the shore, then lap up near our feet, the constant push and pull of the water starting to lull some of the anxiety tightening my chest.
“He always loved it here.” Cam’s voice fills the night air, weighed down with so much pain I can feel it throbbing in time with my own. “Our dad brought us here, too. Our grandmother lived a few miles north of here.”
I nod slowly. “Drew told me. He said you spent most of your summers out here.”
Cam continues watching the water, the corner of his lip tipping slightly. “We built sandcastles, buried each other up to our necks, tossed Frisbees and chased each other, threw each other into the water. It was…perfect.”
“I think that’s why he brought me here…”
My voice wavers slightly, and I swallow through the sob that threatens to slip out, remembering our first time walking onto this very beach. Cam squeezes my hand tightly, offering me his strength as the memory assaults me, so beautiful and painful at the same time.
“He told me how special it was to him. To both of you. We came whenever we could, but with his schedule, it wasn’t enough.”
Not nearly enough.
I needed more time with him.
If I had known how soon he would be gone, I would have done anything to spend every waking moment with him. I wouldn’t have thought twice about selling Buds & Blooms to ensure nothing took a second of our time together and that each one was filled with telling him how much I loved him.
But now, it’s too late…
Cam scans the sand around us. “He proposed here.”
“Yeah, he did.” My eyes automatically drift down the beach to the exact spot—the one captured in the photo framed on the end table in the living room that was snapped by one of Drew’s friends who was in on the whole thing. I tear my gaze from down the beach and peer up at Cam. “Thank you.”
His eyes cut over to mine. “For what?”
Releasing a heavy breath, I try to sort through the jumble of emotions threatening to consume me. “For bringing me here. You’re right, I never would have done this on my own, and this is the only place that makes sense.”
Cam’s jaw locks, his lip trembling as if he’s fighting the same way I am to keep himself together, and he gives me a simple nod. Maybe because he doesn’t trust himself to actually say anything.
I’m not sure I do, either.
Because I have no idea what to say, what words could possibly be enough for a goodbye.
But I have to try.
I tug my hand from Cam’s and step forward until the water touches my boots. The moon reflecting on the waves sends a column of light stretching from far offshore into the beach, almost like a cosmic highway calling me to step onto it, to run down it if I want to get to Drew.
