Nantucket in November has always been my safe space; one I hold close. I’ve come here every year since I can remember to stay in the home my grandfather built my grandmother for Thanksgiving. Just my dad and me. I remember one year I tried to get Lily to come with us.
“Why would you go to Nantucket this time of year? Isn't it closed?”
“Yeah that’s kind of the draw, Lily. It’ll be fun, I swear.”
“Rain check, Liv. I’ll come with you when it’snothermit season there.”
I drive my dad’s vintage Volvo past the closed stores and restaurants that are bustling during the summer months. I finally reach the beach and pull my wool scarf and overcoat tightly around me. The temperature is only 40 degrees but the breeze coming from the ocean is frigid, making my eyes burn.
I tuck the box holding everything I have left of my best friend under my arm and head down to the beach. I lay out a thick blanket on the sand, gingerly setting down the box and then begin pulling off my Hunter boots. I dip my toes into the freezing sand, digging little burrows for them the way I would as a kid. Ilet the cold seep into my bones and breathe in the salty smell of the Atlantic.
Lifting the lid of the box, I instantly wonder if I can actually do this. If I can actually say goodbye. Over the past few weeks I’ve been allowing myself to feel Lily’s absence, at first little by little but eventually head on. I knew letting go was something I needed to do. Sitting here now I realize my grief for Lily has felt, at times, all consuming, and I’m suddenly unsure I want to know who I am without it. Just like I never wanted to know who I would’ve been without her, though I’m beginning to realize it’s a question I should’ve asked myself years ago.
It feels like my entire life has been made up of these memories I shared with her, these in between fleeting moments I can’t unsee— her in the passenger seat of my first car, her scuffed sneakers in the bathroom stall beside mine, the face she’d make before posing for the camera or when a song came on that she couldn’t wait to sing. I set the box back down beside me and lay back on the plaid throw I took from the house, inhaling the smell of my childhood home, which immediately puts me at ease.
I talked to Sloane and Gen about this last week, about finally saying goodbye. Sloane was supportive of course, but I think the gravity of what this meant to me was too much for her. Gen on the other hand really helped me navigate some of the complex things I was feeling. I didn’t realize but Gen’s dad died when she was a preteen, so she’s dealt with the unbearable weight of grief before.
I sit in silence, letting the sea air wrap around me as I consider the different people Lily inadvertently brought into my life, people I wish I let in much sooner. For so long it was easier to avoid my emotions entirely, pretend that Lily either never existed or would be coming back soon. The idea that I had someone who meant more to me than anyone else and I lostthem wasn’t something I could wrap my head around. It was like my brain and heart were playing defense against this unbearable loss, pulling me in a thousand different directions so I could pretend it meant less to me than it did. Then it does.
I close my eyes, letting the sound of the waves calm me, when I hear the sand kick up behind me. Instantly, I realize I’m not alone. Turning toward the noise, I immediately lock eyes with Will. I feel frozen in place. My heart dips as I see the emotions flash through his eyes— the same emotions that are probably flashing in my own. A million questions run through my mind.
How did he find me? Why is he here?I will myself to move, slowly pushing myself up and dusting the sand off the back of my legs as he approaches.
“Hey.” His green eyes are like the color of moss with the ocean reflected in them. They’re tired and his entire presence feels depleted. I realize for the first time that while I’m beginning to feel the fog lift that Lily left behind, it’s just setting in for Will. I still feel all the ways he hurt me. The lies he told me to keep his grief at bay, may be different than the ones I told myself, but not by much. There’s this strange solidarity between us, like a magnet pulling me toward him. Before I can think about it I wrap my arms around him and let myself feel the warmth of someone I thought I knew so well.
“Liv—” his voice chokes, his body rigid under the unexpected embrace and I feel him suck in a breath as he burrows his face into the crook of my neck. We stand there for a while, holding each other steady even when it feels like the world wants us to drown, just like we always have. Finally I pull back, wiping my nose with my sleeve.
“How did you find me?” I sniff and blink the tears begging to fall away, attempting to pull myself together.
“Ben knew where you’d be,” he says, clearing his throat.
Ben. How would Ben know? My mind instantly flashes back to the conversation we had at the diner and my heart picks up. Will must notice I’m spiraling because he knocks me with his elbow. “Listen, you should talk to him. He’s up in the car because he knows I needed to do this next part alone, but… Liv. I think you guys need to talk.”
I turn toward the ocean trying to put a little distance between us.
“I can’t. Not yet, I mean, I…” I steal a glance at Will, catching him with his lips pressed firmly together, his head down. What did it take for him to come here and advocate for Ben? To stand next to me and, in so many words, tell me that what I did to him wasokay. It wasn’t okay. He needed to know that, at a minimum, I was aware of how fucked up my behavior was. “I have a lot of things to do, Will.” I give him a curt smile, colder than I want it to be. I don’t want to talk about this with him. About Ben, as immature as that may be, and I need to finish what I came here to do. I shouldn’t have come out here today. I’m clearly not ready to let go of Lily or own up to my own shit. Almost as if on cue, Will notices the box.
“What's that?” he asks, kneeling down and I watch as his expression morphs to one of understanding. He picks up one of the polaroids of Lily and I dressed to the nines, the lower halves of our bodies completely caked in mud. We’re holding our white gowns up to show the matching rain boots we are both sporting. I kneel beside Will, tapping the photo.
“That was our debutante ball,” I say wistfully, my eyes clouding as I smile thinking back to the memory. “We’d been kicked out after we were found drinking out of a flask right before we were announced. Instead of going home Lily decided we should hold a strike. Naturally, it was monsooning outside.” I shake my head and Will laughs sniffling a bit. I glance at him and see a few tears silently rolling down his face.
He sets the picture back down and sees the note on the receipt, the one I thought might’ve been from Ben but was actually from him the entire time. Will’s hand grazes it, and I feel his entire body tense beside me.
“You should have that,” I tell him, picking it up and holding it toward him.
He looks down at it and says so quietly I almost miss it, “I’m not sure it’s something I want to remember.” His gaze hasn’t left the note.
I press my lips together and force myself to ask the question that has been in my head since I found out.
“Why did you lie to me Will?” I feel the tears coming again but I try to stay strong and push them down. He moves from his kneeling position and stands, shoving his hands into his pocket once again. “This must have been what you came here to tell me, so tell me.” I feel myself getting insecure, feeling betrayed all over again. How could the man I loved— who I thought chose me— actually have chosen her first? “That night at the kegger, the night before she died, you said you were looking for me…” I feel my breath sputter, an errant tear escaping down my cheek. “You never let me meet your family… is this why?” I gesture to the photos of Lily.
Will’s jaw tenses as he continues to look ahead at the ocean, clearly searching for a way to explain this.
“Will, please,” I demand, moving to stand directly in front of him, begging now. “Just tell me why.”
He breathes in a deep breath, shutting his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He exhales for what feels like awhile. “I have a lot of shit that I need to figure out Olivia, a lot. I don’t know why I lied. Maybe it was out of spite, because she lied first. I mean no one, not even her parents knew that she had dated me and everyone in my life saw me fall head over heels—” he stops himself, finally meeting my eyes. “I didn’t come here to explainaway something that doesn’t have a good explanation. I came here because I wanted to give you the closure she couldn’t give me.”
