Page 126 of We Are Just Us

After a few minutes, he started walking toward the waterline.

He didn’t look back. He knew Rory wouldn’t follow.

The waves lapped at his feet. Cold.

Kieran stopped where the foam reached and looked out at the vastness.

The wind picked up, carrying salt spray and the scent of gardenias.

“I’m letting you go now. Not because I’m not angry anymore. Not because I understand everything. But because carrying you in that box while pretending I wasn’t destroyed, that has to end.”

He looked down at the container in his hands.

“I’m putting you where you wanted to be…sort of.” His jaw tightened. “I’ll remember how you always knew when I needed you, even when I didn’t say it. I’ll remember the good parts. And I forgive the rest. But I need you to be at peace now. And I need to be…allowed to live.”

He opened the box.

Inside, the ashes were fine and gray, with fragments of white. The last physical remnants of a woman who had sung and laughed and suffered and loved.

Kieran tipped the box forward.

The ashes caught the wind and scattered across the water, some drifting down to the foam, some lifting up toward the horizon, like dust. Like stars.

He watched them go, dissolving into the ocean she’d loved. Gray swirls that the waves quickly claimed. Others taken by the wind, dispersing into the gathering dark.

Gone.

He held the empty box, watching the last traces disappear.

His hands were steady. His breathing was even.

And only then did Rory’s hand settle warm on his shoulder, his solid presence stepping up behind him, wrapping one arm carefully across Kieran’s chest.

Rory didn’t say anything or offer platitudes. He just grounded Kieran while the ocean took his mom home.

They stayed there. The water lapping. The stars emerging overhead. The weight of grief still there, but somehow less impossible to carry.

Kieran closed his eyes and breathed. The smell of ocean and gardenias. The sound of waves and Rory’s heartbeat against his back.

Finally, Kieran spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think she’s at peace?”

Rory’s arm tightened around him. “Yeah. I do.”

Kieran nodded. Believed it, because Rory said it, and because he needed to.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “Okay.”

They turned together, walking back up the beach. The wreath sat where Rory had placed it on the sand, white petals glowing in the gathering dark.

Kieran bent down and picked it up. Held it, breathing in the sweet, clean scent. Her perfume. Her shampoo. The candles she used to burn in the bathroom.

Then he walked back to the water’s edge and set the wreath gently on the surface.

It floated. The waves caught it, pulling it away from shore. White flowers glowing against the darkening water, a perfect circle of light drifting slowly out to sea.

They watched until they couldn’t see it anymore.