Blue and Mom scratch at the walls of their box, shrieking to take over. I stare at Andrea while focusing on the strong, familiar arms holding me. The gentle stroke of Sebastian’s thumb against my thigh and the proud smile on our girl’s face.
“You’re gonna feel it now, baby.”
I’m safe. I’m ok. I’m safe. I’m ok.
Cold.
Wet.
“Breathe, Cade.”
Exhale. Inhale.
Safe. Ok. Safe. Ok.
It kind of feels like nothing.
“Am I…”
A low chuckle. “You are.”
I look down.
My legs are floating, but I’m still grounded in Sebastian’s arms. Water laps beneath Andrea’s bikini top, soaking the underside of her tits. I like the view. I like the way her nipples poke through the material.
I like her in the water.
It doesn’t even feel real. Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m hallucinating.
“Stay with us, baby.”
I blink and the sensations return. The heat of Sebastian’s skin contrasted with the clear, cool nothingness. Because it definitely doesn’t feel like water. Sure, I take longer showers now— thanks to lots of sex in them. But I haven’t been submerged in water since…
This isn’t the water I remember.
It’s…
Not horrible.
“I don’t hate it.”
Andrea shrieks. “Hell yes! Look at you giving fear the middle finger!”
Lips graze my temple. “So fucking proud of you, baby.”
I’m not shy. Not by any means. But this warm, fuzzy feeling? It’s kind of making me want to bury my face in Seba’s chest, burst out laughing and possibly vomit. But it also washes away the tension. Flushes out old wounds. Erodes the rigid walls of fear.
Will the fear ever fully go away? Unlikely. Healing isn’t linear and I’ve got an ocean’s worth of trauma to navigate. But it’s a step. A really big step. So I’ll fucking take it.
Exit Hymn
Cue the choir of angels and the organ— this ceremony is OVER.
But let’s take a moment to reflect, shall we?
When I sat down to write this book, I made the bold choice to write what made me nervous. What I might’ve shied away from in the past. What’s uncomfortable— what’s sitting in the corner, clearly there, but ignored because no one wants to hear about that kind of stuff. Write what scares me. Write the flaws. Write the pain. Write like no one’s reading.
What came out was… interesting. And surprising. In a good way, I think. Because the layers of this story were both intentional and subconscious. Through these characters, I allowed myself to examine topics I’ve ruminated on or completely avoided, even in my own mind. Some things were difficult to confront, like Cade’s eating disorder through Seba’s eyes. (The helplessness of watching someone you love slowly starve haunts me.) Or Andrea’s chronic pain, born of suppressed emotion and trauma. Others were cathartic, like Andrea’s wake-up from religious brainwashing. It was a journey— one I hope healed you as much as it healed parts of me. Because, as I said in the Afterword ofRuin My Life,these characters hold my most vulnerable pieces. So here are my letters to them.
