Page 105 of Fighting the Tide
Both of my pockets are burning holes in my pants, the heat threatening to singe my skin.In one, I have a small turquoise box I purchased three months ago.A single solitaire diamond wrapped in a platinum band.Colette and I haven’t spoken about marriage, and even though I’m worried she's too young to think about it, I can’t seem to not.So I figured we could compromise and be engaged for a while, or forever, as long as she wears a symbol of my love.
Before I even think about proposing, I need to ask for her hand.That’s what’s burning a hole in my other pocket.Brooke’s two letters I haven’t read yet.It’s been a year of debating if I really need to know what she wrote and if it would change anything now.The answer is no.I don’t need to read her words to move on.I’ve already done that with the help of her daughter, but I want to read what she felt was important enough to wrap in plastic.
I walk along the beach and eventually come to the setup for Avery’s wedding.Over twenty years ago, she sat in this very spot and cried for the woman she’s about to marry.If that’s not full circle, I don’t know what is.White chairs, covered in satin, sit in rows as a beautiful arch is built in front.White roses and hydrangeas weave through the wooden pieces, making it look like it fell from Heaven.I give the area a wide berth as I continue on to my destination, not wanting to be late.
My dress shoes sink into the sand as I stare straight ahead, watching as the lighthouse grows in the distance.There will never be another symbol that represents my teenage years so perfectly.It withstood years of tumultuous weather and even though it stands solitary by the ocean, love grew inside of it.I avoided it for years, worried about traumatic memories and haunting nightmares, but I haven’t been able to stay away for the past year.My runs along the beach always bring me to its gate, and when the feeling in my chest becomes overwhelming, I head inside to visit her.
Our talks are sometimes long and winded, filled with me berating her for her poor decisions, while others are short and to the point.I thank her for those decisions because they brought me Colette.I rest easy each night, truly believing that Brooke is content and at peace, knowing her daughter will be loved every day for as long as I live.I’ve given her the family Brooke was attempting to do before she was taken so early from this life.
It’s time I asked her for her daughter’s hand.If anyone knew about my rendezvous with my ex-girlfriend and the mother of the woman I’m in love with, they would have me committed.I’m not worried about how I feel her some days as she tugs at me from beyond the grave.It’s a comfort knowing she still exists somewhere and I can only hope she’s living a better life than the one she had here.
I open the gate and head to the door, my chest already feeling lighter and my head clearer.I’ve been avoiding reading her words for a year, and it’s time I faced this last thing from my past standing in the way of me and my future.The hinges on the door protest as I push it open, reminding me to bring the oil next time.The lighthouse keeper is nearing his eighties now.He only cares if that light is working each night.I’ve been doing small repairs here and there, hoping this place keeps standing for a hundred more years.
The door shuts behind me as I grab the railing and head up to the top.The fear of these stairs will never fully disappear, but it’s become tolerable over this past year.Once I’m at the top, I unlatch the smaller metal door and push it open, revealing the stunning clear sky and wispy white clouds.It’s the perfect day for a wedding.I step out onto the landing and drag in a lungful of the fresh, briny air, letting it sit there in my chest and wait for my heart to calm its pounding rhythm.
With a slow exhale, I walk to the edge and grab the rusted metal, watching as the ocean waves kiss the horizon in the distance.My chest hums with warmth and I smile, knowing she’s here and ready to listen.
“I’m going to read your letters, Brooke.I’ve been too scared to see your writing, to once again hear the anguish in your words.I’m worried I’ll learn you were still broken when you wrote them.”I step back from the ledge and the wind, pulling the taped plastic from my pocket.“Your words are going to bring me back to a dark place, Brooke, so be prepared to endure every second with me.”
I rip open the plastic and look inside to find two of her intricately folded notes, the same as they were years ago.I don’t know how she tucked the edges to make perfect squares, but looking at them now has my heart dropping just a little.Maybe I’m not ready.I grip the plastic bag in my hand, sealing the letters back inside as I look out at the ocean.Then I swallow down the lump in my throat and curse out loud.“Fuck.”
My chest warms again and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to get it together.I open my eyes and reach into the bag, pulling out the two notes and shoving the plastic back into my pocket.With one in each hand, I nearly choke up at the sight of her handwriting on the outside.Read this one first.Read this one second.
I stick the second in my pocket with the box and begin to unfold the first.The paper still feels thick, the plastic having protected it from the dampness of the brick.I fall against the wall at my back when I hold the letter in my hands and nearly sob when I see the date at the top.
May 18th, 2000.
One day before the accident.
Dear Nolan,
I’ve been hearing a few stories from Cassie about your life in the big city, and since we don’t call each other or talk anymore, I thought I would write you a letter to tell you how proud I am of you.This is what you’ve worked so hard for, and I am glad to hear you’re getting everything you’ve ever wanted.
I’m hoping you come home this summer and maybe you can give me a chance to speak to you.I want to explain some things and hopefully repair our relationship so we can have a friendship.I think anyone lucky enough to have Nolan Sears as a friend is truly blessed.
Tomorrow, Sean will be back in town.He and I are going to give it another shot, and I don’t want you to come home and see that without reading this or talking to me first.There are reasons why he and I are connected forever and I know you hate him, but that’s because of me.I did awful things to you and used him to do it because I wanted you to hate me enough to not stay here in Chatham.
I wanted this life for you, and so did your mother.She told me so many times.She was protective of you when it came to me, and she had every right to be.She could see that I wasn’t able to love her son like he deserved.
I’m sorry, Nolan.I’m so sorry for dragging you to the top of this lighthouse and forcing you onto that ledge with me.I was filled with misery and I needed the company.That day at my house, when you found me in the shower?I saw a glimpse of a boy who would love me through every fault, and with that, I also saw how completely I could be loved, regardless of what it would do to you in the end.You didn’t deserve that, and I wish you never found me that way.
After you talked me off the ledge and made me a promise, I vowed to force you to break it, because every promise made to me was eventually broken.I wanted to feel loved, even if I didn’t have any intention of reciprocating.
No, that’s not true.I do love you, I always will, but not with the same purity in the way you love me.It’s not selfless and unconditional, it doesn’t consume me or make my heart break free from my chest.It’s steady and warm and filled with good intentions, but that’s all.The love I have for Sean is like gasoline to a flame, intense and addictive, and it makes me feel guilty to love someone like that, especially because you’re the one who deserves it, but I can’t help what my heart wants.
When you get this, please come see me.I have something I need to talk to you about, and if you’ve already found out about it, please still come see me.If you know what I want to tell you, then please open the second letter, but if not, bring it to me so we can talk about it together.
I hope you find your person someday, Nolan, and I hope we’re friends so that I’ll get the chance to meet her.I won’t accept anyone less than perfect because that’s what you are.You’re perfect and always have been.
I’m so sorry.
Love always,
Brooke.
Tears coat my cheeks as I press the letter to my chest, wishing I could tattoo each word on my heart.It makes me long for an alternate timeline where there wasn’t an accident and she was alive.I have no doubt we would’ve found a way to be friends, and with how honest and open she was in this letter, I believe we would’ve become the best of friends.
That’s not how fate works though.If that timeline existed, I wouldn’t be with Colette now.I can’t imagine being in Brooke’s life and watching her raise a daughter and not feel connected to her the same way I do to Elijah.Like an uncle, like a family member.
