Page 85 of Written in the Oceans

“Yeah, he’s going to be waiting for me.” She stands as she turns to me for another hug. “I called my parents last night. They want to throw a big engagement thing soon. I’ll let you know the details when they get back to me.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Ellie! I’m getting married!” she exclaims one last time before pulling me in for a hug once again. I laugh at her excitement, truly happy to share this moment with her.

“Call me tomorrow. We’ll have dinner over the weekend to celebrate,” I suggest.

I walk her to my door, and I lock it behind her.

So many things are changing around me, and I feel like I’m staying stagnant. My mom actually met someone, and her relationship with Mark is getting more and more serious each day. Claire’s gettingmarried.

I’ve always viewed change with dread. An overwhelming awareness of consternation would flow through me, and I did whatever I could to avoid the inevitable. But evolving is a part of human nature. We live to change and learn to adapt. At least, those around me do. I do my best to stay at a standstill, hoping that if I do, the natural shift that I should welcome would fly past me.

But maybe the fact that I work so hard to avoid change is the reason I feel so lost. Rhylan had said it was drowning, that we both were drowning. When I was with Rhylan, I didn’t feel like I was drowning anymore. Maybe that was because of the way he transformed my life into something worth living. And, even if all that’s left between me and Rhylan is the messy heartbreak that’s scattered around us, maybe I can at least hang on to the one thing that he gifted me: freedom. The knowledge that we both had a glimpse of what it feels like to not drown, to not feel suffocated but to actuallylive, freely and unapologetically.

I look for my phone and search for Austin’s number. Past messages about homework and midterms pop up as I hesitantly tap out a text.

Me:Hey Austin. Sorry, it’s a little late, but I think I’m going to take you up on that assistant job.

Instantaneously, my phone dings a response.

Austin:Yeah? Awesome! I’ll give my aunt a call.

Change is good.

THIRTY-EIGHT

RHYLAN

The bruises that are spread over my eyes and cheeks are transitioning into a bile-colored yellowish green, and my stitches are healing, leaving behind a scraggly scar that will serve as a constant reminder of my actions.Stories of my brush with death and my overactive partying have died down over the past few weeks, while the images of Bella and I kissing have remained. It’s a constant reminder that my actions have dire consequences, most of which Ellie has to pay.

The paralysis hasn’t gone anywhere, but now it’s a manageable numbness that I somehow maneuver around. Today, that numbness has lingered lightly into my chest as I drive towards downtown Los Angeles where Chuck’s high rise is located in the heart of it.

He started a small business specializing in men’s wear about six years ago that he built from the ground up. His parents advised against it, urging him to use his finance degree more productively, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he emptied more than half his trust fund into this business. Today, his company, Suits & Whistles, is going public. This is a big deal, a very big deal, and we’re celebrating.

Ever since I was hospitalized, Charles, Chuck, and Jackson have been careful. Limiting their partying and drinking and making sure that none of it got out of hand, even driving me to my sessions with Dr. Greene so I didn’t miss a single one. Tonight, on a night that we would normally spend celebrating into the late hours, Chuck decided to invite people over to his penthouse and have a low-key celebration. Just catered food and cocktails.

With my car parked in the parking structure, I take the elevator up to the forty-fourth floor, humming as it ascends. When the elevator doors open directly into the foyer, I walk in to find a small collection of people standing around in even smaller clumped groups. Everyone has a cocktail in their hands, most likely made by the bartender stationed in the far corner of Chuck’s living room. Light music fills the air with the hushed chatter of people blending into it.

“Rhy! You made it!” Chuck comes practically sprinting towards me while balancing a glass tumbler. His wide grin spread across his face is infectious.

I smile back, pride emanating from my grin. I know he worked hard to make this company a success and, as one of his top investors, I couldn’t be more honored to be a part of it.

“Nice turnout, no?” His actions are exaggerated as he gestures toward the room. All of his furniture has been moved out, and now the room is an open space with a scattering of small tables throughout.

I smirk, my head tilted proudly towards him. “Yeah.”

He pulls me in for a bear hug, his embrace disarming. With a strong pat on my back, he steps back and snags a flute of champagne from a waiter walking past us making his rounds.

He hands me the glass.

“To Suits & Whistles,” he says, gleaming with joy, raising his own glass towards me.

I clink the champagne to his glass and chuckle. “To Suits & Whistles.”

“Mmm. I have someone I want you to meet!” he exclaims, his mouth coming off his glass with urgency. He waves towards a tall, attractive woman not too far from us. She smiles brightly at Chuck and saunters toward us. She stops next to Chuck, a good three inches taller than him, and smiles as she drapes her slender arm along Chuck’s shoulders.

“This is Sonia,” he says to me. “Sonia, this is Rhylan.”

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