It sounds like a warning, but I don’t take it at face value. I’m tired, broken, and scared. I should run, but fear can make me behave irrationally. Tilting my chin, I see the sharp lines of his jaw and the tension in his face as he stares down into my eyes, rendering me irreverent, yet inexplicably curious. The same curiosity I've felt when wondering what death would feel like.
“Enlighten me, Liam. Why would I do that? Can’t you leave me alone?”
His body is close, almost too close, the heat radiating off him in waves. The taste of bile fills my mouth and disgust mingling together as I struggle to maintain my composure.
I rip my hand away. “Get your hands off of me.” Standing up to him because it’s the last thing I got, I will not back down, although fear is creeping in.
“I would enlighten you, Sara, but something tells me you’re going to learn all. on. your. own,” after he pronounces each syllable, he looks away to the chapel and, with an empty stare, the kind a savage lives behind, he says,
“He’s not here to protect you anymore.”
For a moment, I consider he means from him.
As I watch him walk away, confident, strong, threatening, nothing like Joe, I leave the dead to the dead.
How I’ll survive is beyond me.
Nine
Sara
Three months. That’s how long it takes for non-grievers and the village to forget a tragedy. They are built to shed things fast when they haven't been hit by eroding, corrosive pain. When I saw people out in town, whether they were laughing, arguing, or entwined in their tangled intimacy, they seemed like distant creatures on a wildlife documentary. The world had become a vast stage, and I am merely an audience member at my very own chaotic circus, altering no one’s existence… While mine felt irreconcilable.
How did life just keep on going?
My strength is slowly returning, like sea glass being polished by the rummaging waves, and I am deliberately doing my best remembering Joe smiling, laughing. I can now walk through fire and smell smoke, not the searing heat.Progress.
Occasionally, I forget, and a gentle bubble of laughter escapes my lips, a smile briefly illuminates my face, just to fade when I recall I won’t ever see him again… Even if it’s just to tell him how much he mattered to me.
Summer is at its tail end and the Mistral wind has picked up. It's the ideal time for our annual sailing boat race this weekend, they are majestic, and I look forward to seeing them every year.The boats grace the dock and are magical as your head whips up to the very top of their masts.There's something about watching them sail away, drifting in different directions, powerless against the maddening ocean, and yet always in control. Never too certain of the illusion ahead of them. I related to these sailboats.
I have tried to go out a little more with the girls, baby steps. I haven’t run into Liam at all, and I am extremely thankful for it. Also, my birthday month has finally arrived. Drumroll, please: October in all its glory. I guess it makes sense; Halloween and grief are a sort of season, but mark that all year on my calendar.
I'm trying to enjoy the last decent summer weather with Artemis, Mimi, and Anne, hair still damp from the Bouillabaisse beach at the town’s entrance. Even though it is the spot where all the popular kids from school gather, I absolutely adore this beach. As a child, I walked here every morning with my mom, brother, and our playful dogs, skipping joyfully along the warm sand and wading into the inviting light blue water. The deep end stretches so far from the shore that you can walk through the water, letting your thoughts drift away, while the gentle waves barely rise above your ankles. We often swim here, drawn by theconvenience of proximity to the village, which means we never have to ask anyone for a ride.
I don’t like to ask favors; I’d rather vacuum a whole deserted island covered in sand.
It’s not too hard to know where someone is in this tiny village, and I knew it was just a matter of time before Tyler and I would meet again. He had shown interest in the last few days of school; somehow I left a lasting impression when I bumped into him while rushing to see Joe.That day hurts to think about.
Apparently, he can’t take no for an answer because he found me, and he's now waving at me with a smirk that reminds me I had declined to hang out.Shoot me now.
I don’t feel like engaging with the idea of potentially dating. I know very little about Tyler since he recently moved here from Cannes, but I don’t think he wants to just get a kebab and call it a day.
He is definitely handsome though, with his tall slender frame, green eyes, a wide chest but not as wide as Joe and Liam. He has that model Esque look to him with a “I play sports” for an appetizer. I can see why girls throw themselves at him.Ijustwon’t be one of them.
He leans with his hip as if he is posing for a magazine that only exists in his head, in his swim trunks, I'll admit looking like half the candy I’d taste, but my mind is not on the same wavelength.
“I bet you wish you had said yes to hang out with me?” he says wriggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t have any regrets, Tyler,” I say, trying to get around him.
He grins. “Are you always this happy? Everyone has at least one regret. It’s cool.”
“I’m a ray of fucking sunshine, didn’t you know?” I smirk, doing my best not to be awfully rude to him. It isn’t his fault I am dying inside. He is still a nice guy, and a part of me feels bad.
He studies me a little too long. “You look tired.”
“I am, there, that’s one regret I have—I woke up.”
