Page 67 of Fighting the Tide
I press my palm over the ache in my chest, rubbing the damp material of my T-shirt.I know what I felt last night, and even though it was a suppressed memory resurfacing, it felt so real.I tried to drown it with half a bottle of whiskey, but clearly it wasn’t effective because I can still feel it there.The dull ache once again thrusts me back to the beginning of my grief and forces me to face the things I’ve lost before I leave again for New York.
I open the back door, stretching my arms over my head and letting my fingertips graze the top of the frame.The skies are a clear blue this morning, decorated with thin, wispy clouds.It’s as if the storm never happened, and that, too, was just a figment of my imagination.I step out onto the back porch and watch as soft waves curl up over the sand, the ferocity from last night long gone.For the first time since I’ve been back here, I long to walk along the beach, but as I step down onto the sand, my eyes catch a dark circle in front of the porch.I follow the path upward and find my bottle of whiskey sitting precariously on the edge of the railing, completely empty with not a single drop left.That’s not how I left it last night.In fact, I remember placing it down by the bench, listening to the sound of the liquid inside it splashing against the glass.
The hairs along my arms begin to rise as I look back out to the ocean, wondering if I’ll find footprints in the sand.I step up to the dark circle staining the sand and bend down, the powerful scent of whiskey wafts under my nose and I gag, the smell reminding me of the hangover coursing through my body.I shove back up to my feet and spin around, looking over the small backyard surrounded by a rickety fence, then out to the ocean.I won’t find a single thing, but I need to somehow explain what’s right here in front of my face.Most likely, someone stumbled onto my back porch in the middle of the night and thought it would be funny to pour out the alcohol.Couldn’t have been a typical teenager or young adult because most would take it with them.Then I think back to me being a teenager and a young adult, living with an alcoholic, and maybe if I had stumbled upon someone’s porch back then and found a half-empty bottle of whiskey, I would have poured out the rest thinking I was doing them a favor.
I pick up the empty glass bottle and take the two steps back up to my porch, the wood groaning under my weight, and head back inside the house, shutting the door behind me.I need to get back to the bed-and-breakfast to shower and prepare for Avery.I’m excited to see my best friend because it’s been over a year since we’ve come face-to-face.Our lives have become so busy.Mine with the station, and hers with her fiancée and photography business.
We have let our busy lives come between us in the last few months, and I’m glad that’s going to finally come to an end.I step out of the cottage, locking the door behind me, and walk toward the bin, chucking the empty whiskey bottle inside.The crack of the glass sounds around me as I head to my car.Today I will tackle my parents’ bedroom and finally be done with this cottage, leaving it in Darren’s—hopefully—capable hands.I’m sure I’ll hear more about how capable he is from Avery.She’s never held back when it comes to her brother.
I get back to my room and shower, then put on a fresh pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, my hand automatically going to the pocket but remembering that I left the candle at Brooke’s grave.That’s where it will have to remain, because I don’t think I have the nerve to go back there, not after what happened last night.I pick up my phone from the side table when a knock sounds at the door.I straighten and turn, looking at the wooden slab as if whatever’s on the other side will make its presence known before I have to open the door and reveal that I’m in here.I look at the time on the screen of my phone, seeing that there’s no way Avery would be here yet.It’s not even noon.
I muster up the little energy I have left and stride to the door, turning the knob and pulling it open to reveal a distraught-looking Cassie.Her curls are hanging limply around her shoulders and her face is void of the usual makeup she wears.Bags decorate her under eyes and her mouth is tipped down into a frown.
“Can we talk?”she asks as she wrings her hands in front of her, anxiety rolling off her in thick waves.I hate that I make her feel like this, too afraid to approach me, so I open the door wider and motion for her to come in.It’s the least I can do.
She walks by me, trailing with her the vanilla body spray she’s worn since high school.There’s nothing wrong with it.It’s not like I dislike the scent, it’s just compounding all the reminders I’ve been given in the last twenty-four hours of the life I used to live here.She’s wearing black leggings and an off-the-shoulder, oversized sweater, the baby blue color setting off the porcelain tone of her skin.Cassie has always been breathtakingly beautiful, but for me, it’s never been enough.Maybe I thrive on toxicity, on the push and pull of clashing tempers that end up being settled as the fire still burns inside of me.There’s something about the make up of any fight that makes you forget the reasons why you are fighting to begin with.I guess what I’m trying to say is my feelings for Cassie lack passion.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I begin as her eyes round and the brown depths take on a look of hope.It’s unfortunate that I’ll be crushing it in the next second.“But everything I said was true, Cassie.The delivery may have been wrong, but I meant every word.I don’t want to be married and I don’t think I ever will be.The thought of children makes me want to break out with hives, and I’m seeing too much of my father in me lately to even fathom those things.I know you came here to talk to me, but I want to make this very clear before you begin.A friendship with you would be amazing because you are kind and selfless.Anything more would be a lie.”
“I never meant to push you for more than what you could give,” she says as her hands drop to her sides.“I thought you needed a gentle nudge because of what Brooke’s death did to you, and I stupidly thought I could fix it.That I would be enough to fill whatever hole she left inside of you.I was delusional,” she admits as a single tear slips over her cheek.“None of that made any difference because I still fell in love with you, and I’ve been willing to wait as long as it takes.So when you said you were coming home to fix up the cottage, I assumed it was for us.”She plops down on the bed, expelling the air from her lungs in a heavy breath as she folds her hands together on her lap.“I don’t blame you, because you’ve been honest with me from the beginning.I had this irrational belief that I could change your mind.Can we go back to the way we were before I started forcing you to think of more?”
“That wouldn’t be fair to you, Cassie.”I step up to her and crouch down so that our eyes are on the same level.“You’ve admitted to falling in love with me, and no matter how hard we try, there’s no going back to what we were.Besides, you don’t deserve that.You deserve to have someone to build a home for you, for them to ask you to marry them, and to have children one day before it’s too late.Don’t waste your time waiting for something that will never happen.I was fractured long before Brooke.She was the final kick that knocked me down.”I reach for her hand, gathering it in my much larger one and pressing her small fingers together as she hiccups on a sob.“I’m going to give you the same advice my mother gave to me.”She looks at me with tear-filled eyes, hers flicking between mine.“Let go of me and start to open your heart to other possibilities.Don’t close yourself off because you may just miss what’s right there in front of you.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” she whispers as more tears fall from her eyes.“I’m willing to take whatever you give me, but don’t shut me out.”She grabs the front of my shirt with her other hand and hauls me into her, pressing her mouth to mine.I let her kiss me, even going as far as to reciprocate.So when her lips open beneath mine, I don’t think twice as my tongue delves into her mouth.Our bodies know the routine so well that we don’t even need to think of the next step, but as my tongue tangles with hers, I force myself to remember how much I will hurt her if I let this continue.
I pull away as a whimper escapes her and her hand tightens in the fabric, forcing me to stay there in front of her.“Cassie.”I reach up and pry her fingers from my shirt.“We can’t.”
“Can you at least consider what I asked?Can we somehow go back to the way we were before I messed all of this up?”she begs, her lips trembling with each word.
“Sure.”I nod, the word slipping from my mouth even though I don’t mean it.I don’t want to crush her any more than I already have.“I’ll think about it.I need to get back to the cottage.I still have a little bit more to go through.”I straighten up and take a step back from her, watching as she stands from the bed and wipes the tears from beneath her eyes.
“Nolan, there’s something you need to know about Brooke.She kept a dark secret from you.”My eyes close with her words, and at the sound of Brooke’s name, I begin to shake my head.This is how it starts.She thinks by tarnishing Brooke’s memory, I will somehow turn back to her.
“I don’t care, Cassie,” I tell her.“But if you continue to bring up Brooke, not only will I never consider anything, we will no longer be friends.”
She opens her mouth to say something more, but then wisely chooses to shut it.“Okay.”She nods before shrugging with a tip of her shoulder.“Fine.It’s not like it would make a difference anyway at this point.”She chuckles dryly as she walks by me.“Call me when you want to talk.”She pulls open the door and steps out of my room, giving me one last look over her shoulder before she closes it, the finality of theclickechoing around my head.
The ping from my phone pulls me out of my thoughts and I grab it from the side table, swiping open the screen when I see Avery’s name.
Avery: I’m at Mom’s.Are you at the cottage?
Instead of sending her a message back, I click on her name and decide to call her.
“Hello?”She picks up, her voice almost dragging a groan of relief from me.
“Tell me you’re ready to get fucking filthy,” I tell her as she laughs.
“If I didn’t know any better, Nolan Sears, I’d think you were flirting with me.”It’s my turn to laugh as shetsksin my ear.
“I’m at the bed-and-breakfast.I had to shower and change.I’ll be heading over in a little bit.Do you want to meet me there in about half an hour?”
I walk toward the door, pulling it open as she says, “That’s perfect.I need to eat and then I’ll see you there.”
“See you,” I say as I hang up the phone, making my way back downstairs.The older woman at the desk gives me a small wave as I walk by, her eyes once again looking a little sad.I hate the thought of anyone pitying me.It almost makes me feel as small as I did when I was in high school.Being one of the poorest families in Chatham, I had an abundance of pity surrounding me.
I get to the cottage a little earlier than what I told Avery because I want to open that bedroom door on my own and face it.Whatever lingering traumas I have from the multiple deaths surrounding this cottage won’t stop me from doing this one thing on my own.What other way to discourage fear but to look it in the eye?I walk up the driveway, making my way around the potholes, and step up on the front porch, grabbing the key from my pocket.With April just around the corner, the breeze is beginning to warm up slightly, and if I take a deep breath, I can smell hints of summer.I open the door and step inside, relieved when I see the lights are on.The electricity has been restored.The yellow auras send warmth into the very empty space and it soothes whatever fear still lingers inside of me as I make my way across the room.I stand in front of the door and rest my hand on the knob, waiting for a sign.When nothing happens, I turn it and let the door swing inward.It doesn’t fully open due to the trash all over the floor, but I see the bed there in the center of the room, covered in trash and old clothing.It pretty much looks the same as the rest of the cottage did when I first got here, and I’m relieved about that.I can handle trash.I don’t want to see another ghost from my past.
I turn around and grab the box of garbage bags, slipping another mask over my face and pulling on another pair of latex gloves.As the gloves are secured around my fingers, a knock sounds at the door.
