ByJenniferFoor

OysterCoveBook3

COPYRIGHT2017JMFPUBLISHINGINC

This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely

coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any
resemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizationsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
This book is set in Chincoteague Virginia. Other places and names are created or changed for
entertainmentpurposesonly.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written

permissionexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticlesandreviews.Thisbookis
not allowed to be offered for sale, discounted, or free on any sites than the author’s selected retailers.
This book may only be distributed by Jennifer Foor, the owner and Author of this series ONLY. This
author does not authorize sharing or reproducing for free sites. All copies reproduced or shared are
violationsofthecopyrightlawsandsubjecttolegalaction.

I owe a ton of thanks to my readers. Without you I wouldn’t be where I am in my life. You’ve

helpedmeachievedreamsIneverthoughtwerereachable.I’msograteful.Fromthebottomofmyheart,
andtopandsides,thankyouforthecontinuedsupport.

I’dalsoliketothankmyfamilyandfriendsforbeingmyrockwhenI’mdown,orcheeringmeon

whenI’mracingforadeadline.

GODISGOOD

Thisseriesisdeartomyheart.AsayounggirlIremembercampingeveryyearonChincoteague

Island. Most people aren’t aware that I struggled with a relationship with my father since I became a
teenager.Thesememoriesofcampingtakemebacktoatimewhenhewasmyhero.IcherishthosetimesI
gottospendwithhim,becauseweneverknowwhensomeonewilldisappearfromourlives.

Years later we’re still visiting Chincoteague, my husband, and kids, dogs included. Each time

we’rethereI’msweptawaybymemoriesofthebeautifulislandandexperiencesIhadthere.

The Assateague ponies have always been my most favorite things about vacationing in Virginia.

WhenIwasateenagermyfatherpurchasedtwoofthemfromtheannualauction.Hewenttothehardware
store and purchased plywood and other lumber, and then made a half-assed giant box in the bed of his
pickup. We literally drove two hours home with a wild colt trying to kick himself free. Talk about a
memory.

WhileIcanappreciatethosememoriesgrowingup,theislandsholdmoresignificancenow.Itake

inthebeautifulnatureofAssateagueandappreciatethatsomethingshavebeenpreservedthewayGod
madethem.ChincoteagueIslandisnodifferent.Thepeoplearewonderful.It’slikegoingtoatownfrom
thefifties.Everyoneknowsyou,ANDTHEY’REKIND.

Wouldn’tlifebebetterifitwasstillthiswayeverywhere?

Obviouslythepurposeofwritingthisseriesistoshareabeautifulplaceandarealfamily,with

struggles,butyethopeattheendoftheday.Thankyoufortakingachanceonthisseries.

XOXO-J4

Placesreferencedinthisseries:

Chincoteague-Assateague-IslandCreamery
J&BSubs-BeulahCemetery-Don’sSeafood
TheCrabShack-Mr.Paul’sPlace-
Mr.Whippy’sIslandGrocery-
Tom’sCoveCampground
AtlanticShoalsSurfShop

Chapter1
Weston

Sheoncecalledmealow-down-two-timing-scumbagwhowouldneveramounttoanything.Brice

Carpentertoldmeshewouldn’tdatemeifIwerethelastmanonChincoteagueIsland.InhindsightIcan’t
blame her. Partly because some of those accusations were undeniably true. In the past I’ve been what
somewouldcallaplayer.Livingonthesmallislanddoesn’tleavemuchchoice.ByagefifteenI’ddated
alltheattractivegirlsinmyschool,andmovedontotheeasierones.

Learning how to love wouldn’t come easy for me, nor was it something I looked to experience.

WhenIwasoldenoughtobeginwantingmoreoutofarelationship,Iwasenvelopedwithgrief.Myheart
hadbeenshreddedintotinypieceswhenIlostmymothertocancerbeforeI’dturnedtwenty.Thattragic
experienceleftmeemptyinside,andittookeveryamountofdignitythatremainedtopretendIwasgoing
tobeokaywithit.Contrarytowhatmyfriendswouldhaveassumed,Iwasneverthesameagain.Noneof
uswere;mysiblingsallthesame,ourfamilydamagedandforeverburdenedwithaholeinourheartsthat
wouldneverbefilled.Thevoidwasaconstantbattle.

Wehurt.Wewithdrew,evenfromeachother.Dadturnedtothebottlebecauselookingatwhatwas

leftbehindforhimtomanagewouldbetoomuchtobear.Itwouldtakehimyearstoconsidermovingon,
andinthattimewewereallbitterandlost,especiallyme.

ThencameBrice.
Theperson,whoonceloathedme,suddenlybecametheonlyoneIwantedtospendtimewith.She

wastheonlyoneIcouldexpressmyfeelingsto,anditwasn’teasy.Iwasstubbornandposedachallenge
sheneverhadtodevotehertimeto,especiallysincesheknewexactlywhoIwas,thingsI’ddone,and
whereIwasheaded.

Nowherefast.
Most of our friends graduated and left the island for bigger, more intellectual aspirations small

town living can’t provide. Brice had been gone for years, medical school taking up the majority of her
life.I’donlyseeherwhenshewasoffforbreaks,andeventhenitwasn’tacordialfriendlyreunion,not
atfirst.Knownforbeingadickwhonevertookthewordnoforananswer,sheposedtobeaconstant
reminderoftheonepersonIcouldneverhave.Shedidn’tjustplayhardtoget.Shemadeitimpossible.

Brice was working part time on the docks of a marina, in charge of keeping the piers clear and

refuelingboatswhenneeded.

IthappenedtobethesameplaceIfoundsolacewheneverythingfeltlikeitwasfallingapart.I’d

showuptobealoneandshe’dforceaconversation,nomatterhowmuchItriedtoavoidit-her.This

beautiful,smartandcharismaticwomanwasusingreversepsychology,hercollegemajor,tohelpmecope
withthelossofmydearmother.SheknewI’deventuallytakethebait,andshewasright.Itookitand
neverletgo.OnceIdecidedtoopenupitwasanundeniablenecessity.

It wasn’t long until I figured out I could use her compassion for my own personal gain, while

reapingthebenefitsofanewfriendship.Takingadvantageofherpity,anewrelationshipwasforged,but
notforthereasonIassumed.

Wedidn’tsitdownandhavesessionsasonemightdowhenseeingaprofessionalshrink.Forthe

most part I was her first patient. She wouldn’t have her degree for another several years, not that it
stoppedherfromassessingmymentalstateandtreatingmeasifIwereherfirstcomplexcase.Shewas
professional,butcompassionate.Ihonestlybelievedshecaredformywell-being.

Theironyis,Idon’tknowwhereI’dbewithoutherintervention.Bricemademeabetterperson,

whoIamtodayasIstandbeforeher,preparingtoaskthebiggestquestionofmylife.

Cobalteyesstareintomine,glossedoverwhileshegripsthesmallwrappedbox.“IsthiswhatI

thinkitis?”Bricequestions.

I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, the precise day to catch her off guard. It’s a rare

occasionforustoquarrel.We’resoinsyncit’ssometimesscary.Iwanttothinkshewasmadeforme,but
I’ve never been the sappy type to believe in that sort of mumbo jumbo. The truth is, I worked hard to
convinceBricetodateme,andevenafteragreeing,shestillheldherguardup.Nowfouryearsintoour
physical relationship, but knowing each other for our entire lives, I’ve suddenly come to realize
somewhere down our path of connecting our love has grown into something unbreakable. I know she’s
everythingIwant.TheringsheholdsinthisboxonlyproveshowreadyIamtotakethenextstepwithher.
Iwanttopromisemyhearttoher,notthatsheneedsthereminder.Theoldhard-assIusedtobemayas
wellhaveretired.I’mstilltoughwhenIneedtobe,rougharoundtheedgessoIwon’thearshitfrommy
brothers, but I’m patient and try to be understanding, because I know what I’m rewarded when I’m the
manshewants.

Briceobviouslyknowswhat’sinthebox.Hertear-filledeyesdisplayadesperatekindofhope.A

gustofwindremindsmeofthewinterchillintheair,especiallybeingthishighupinthelighthouse.The
parkisclosedbecauseit’stheholidays,butbeingfriendswitheveryonegrantsmetheopportunityforthis
specialprivatemoment.

Shecomplainedwitheverysinglestepittookustogettothetop.ThisisthefirstplaceIbrought

herwhensheagreedtoourfirstdate.“DoyourememberthefirsttimeIbroughtyouhere?”

“Yeah.HowcouldIforget?You’dbeenbeggingmeformonths.”
AguffawescapesmebeforeIcancontinue.Backthenitwasacontinuousbattle.Iwantedtobea

hard-headedasstogetarise,butalsoknewIhadtotreadlightlyifIwantedachanceatsomethingmore
withher.“Iknowyouonlyagreedtoitbecauseyouwantedtocutallmybeachlocksoff.”

“West,thosewerenotlocks.Yourhairwasanappynightmare.”
“Still,thatmessgotmethedate.”I’mstillcelebratingthatachievement.
“You’re the only man I know who brings a folding chair and a pair of scissors to the top of a

lighthousetoimpressalady.Icouldhavechoppedittohell.”

“IfIcouldtrustyouwithmyheart,Iwasn’tatallworriedaboutmyhair.Iknewitwouldgrow

backeventually,butthememoriesofthatdatewon’teverbeforgotten.”

“You’reluckyIknewhowhandsomeyouwereunderthatmop.”Shescratchesthetopofmyhead

asshesaysit.

To be honest, it should have been cut way before I let her do it. I’d been hearing shit from my

brothersforawhile,andonlykeptitbecauseIknewhowmuchtheycouldn’tstandit.

“Don’tforgetthelantern.Imayhavebeendesperateforadate,butIdrawthelineataccidental

throatslitting.”I’dpackedfortheoccasion,makingsuretheatmospherewasperfect.

InsteadofthelaughIassumewillcome,sherollshereyesbeforelookingbackdownatthebox.“I

never expected this. I know we’re serious. Living together means we’re ready to make the next step,
but…”

“Youdon’tevenknowwhatitis,”Ikid.
SheseemsembarrassedattheassumptionandforafewsecondsIletherravelincuriosity.She’s

gullible.IcouldtellherIbroughthertothisplacetokillherandshe’dprobablybelieveme,atleastfora
fewseconds.QuiteoftenIhavetocheckherscalpforrandomblondehairsthatmaybethecauseofher
airheadedness.It’sanongoingjokewehavebetweenus.

“Iknowyouwanttoopenit,sogoahead.”
Quickly,Iclosetheoneopendoortopreventtheweatherfromruiningthemoment.Herhandsare

shakingasIkneeldowninfrontofher,confusingtheladyIloveevenmore.“Yousaiditwasn’taring.”

“Just open the damn box, woman. It’s snowing outside and this place isn’t exactly heated, but I

neededeverythingtobeperfect.”

Sheripstheboxopen,hereyeslightingupwithshock.It’sbiggerthanshewouldhaveprobably

expected, but she’s worth the extra money I had to finance. The expression on her face tells me she’s
pleased. As my heartbeat begins to pick up, I suck in a deep breath and ask the question I’ve been
practicinginmyheadformonths.“Youknowyou’retheoneforme.You’retheonlywomanwhomademe
fightforeverythingwehave.I’llnevertakeyouforgranted.IloveyouandIwantyoutobemywife.”

“I don’t know,” she starts. “This is the second offer I’ve gotten this week. I might have to think

aboutit.”

My face contorts as a rush of unnecessary jealousy hits. I know she’s playing around, but the

thoughtstillkicksmeinthegut.

“Samaskedformyhandafewdaysago.ItoldhimIhadtothinkaboutit.”Shesnickersagainas

sheconfesses.

Samisinhiseighties,andworksatthemarina.He’saharmlessoldmanwhoalwaystellsmeI

better make an honest woman out of her before he snags her from me. “Figures. Hopefully you didn’t
accepttheofferyet.”

She’s still staring at the ring, as if pulling it from the box will zap her with electricity. “It’s

beautiful,West.”Hervoicebreakswhenshesaysit.“Ididn’texpectthis.”

“WhyelsewouldIbringyouhereafterhoursinasnowstorm?”
“TogivememyChristmaspresentearlyinourspecialspot.Ibroughtyoursjustincase.”
“You did?” If there’s one thing my girlfriend can’t do, it’s keep a secret. She’s terrible with

surprises.Lastyearsheshookeverygiftunderthetreeandalmostguessedallofthemcorrectly.Iwasso
annoyedIwrappedeverythinginsideofbiggerboxes,evenweighingthemdownwithhouseholditemsto
throwheroff.

“Thiswasn’toneofyourgifts.Ididn’twanttoasktomorrowwhenwe’rewiththewholecrew.”
“Do you already know what your gift is? Did someone tell you? Is this what provoked you

poppingthequestion?”Whensheaskssheseemsworried.Ican’tunderstandwhy.Nothingforcedmeto
wantthis.

Leaving me confused, I offer the only explanation. “No. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking

about.”

“Areyousure?You’renotaskingmetomarryyouforanyotherreason?”
“Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought love was a good enough reason. I mean, the sex is pretty

awesometoo,butit’snotnecessarilyadealbreakereitherway.I’dstillbeaskingyou.”

“Never mind.” She shoves me back and hands me the box. “Will you put it on me? I’m afraid I

screwedupthefirstproposal.We’llcallthatapracticerun,okay?”

While shaking my hands to appear as if I’ve erased the past several minutes, I stare into those

tear-filledblueeyesandsilentlyhopeIcanbethemanshe’llalwaysneed.Thistimeit’smyhandsthat
shake.Theanticipationhasfinallydrenchedmewithanervoussweat.I’mtryingtomakesenseofallthe
emotionsI’mstrugglingtocontain.“Iloveyou.It’sneverbeenareward.I’lldoanythingforyou,andfor
thefamilyIknowwe’llhaveoneday.So,willyoudomethehonorsofbeingmywife?Willyoumarry
me?”

TheanswerIgetisnottheoneIexpect.AsimpleyesornoiswhatI’mhopingfor,yetassoonas

myquestionleavesmylipsshe’sconfessingsomethingentirelyconsuming.

“I’mpregnant,West.”
Now,I’vespentthepastseveralyearstryingtogetagriponwhatitmeanstofeelthekindoflove

Iexperiencewiththisparticularperson.Shehasn’tonlyhelpedmetoovercomethelossandemptinessof
losingmymother,butalsohowtoappreciatewhatstillremainsinmylife.There’sanunimaginablefear,
aswellasainconceivablerushofexcitementIcan’tquitecontain.

Pregnant.
The proposal is tossed to the side while I ingest this life-changing announcement. “How?”

Understandinghowstupidthequestionsounds,Ireiterate.“Imean,howlonghaveyouknown?”

“Threeweeks.”Sheleansbackandtakessomethingfromherpurse.It’sasmallframeandinside

isthepictureofarecognizablesonogramphotograph.“Iwasgoingtotellyouasyoursurprisegift”

I’mexperiencingamomentarylapseoftheabilitytohaveanintelligentconversation.Ifeellike

mytongueisbeingpulledoutofmymouthasIstutterwitheveryword.“How.Howlong?Howfaralong
areyou?”

“EightorNineweeks.”
Arockhard,constrictinglumpformsinmythroat.“Wow.Youdidn’tsuspect?”
“It’stheholidays.We’vebeenbusy.”
“Busy?”Iinquire.“Toobusytonoticeyoumissedaperiodortwo?”
She shrugs. “I don’t exactly write it down. When my boobs hurt I know it’s coming. In this

instancetheyhurtforanotherreason.Ijustdidn’tknowthedifference.”

AfireignitesinmyheartwhenIimaginehercarryingourchild.Thisismorethananengagement

now.It’sthebeginningofourveryownfamily.“Youcan’tsaynonow.”

“Iwasn’tplanningonit.”Sheadmits.
Slippingtheringonherfingerandseeinghowperfectlyitfitscauseshertosqueal.
“Ican’tbelievethisishappening.”
“I can. That’s why I did it here at the lighthouse. This place is ours. It’s where the magical

momentshappen.”

“Magicalmoments?”Shegiggles.“I’lladmitourfirsttimewasamazing,butitwasn’tascold.If

youthinkI’mgettingnakedtonightonthetopofthislighthouseyou’reverymistaken.”Beforefinishing,
shesnickers.“Now,ifwewenthomeandgotunderthenicewarmcoversI’msurewecouldmakesome
fireworks.”

“Fireworks?”Icackle.“I’mthatgood,huh?”Istandtokeepmykneesfromgivingout.
Sheslapsmychestlightly.“Don’tflatteryourself,West.Iwastalkingaboutmyspecialabilities.”
Ilaughatherimplication.“Specialabilities,huh?”
She shoves me until I’m back against a far wall, and then smashes her lips against mine. Brice

doesn’tpullawayuntilshe’ssureshehasmyundividedattention.Webreak,myeyesfocusedcompletely
onhers.“Ithinkit’saboy.WeshouldnamehimSundance.”

“Neverhappening.”Shepauses.“Wait,isn’tthatahorse’sname?”
“Atrustyhorse.”
“I’llmarryyou,WestonWallace,butwe’renotnamingourchildafterahorse.Ihavetodrawthe

linesomewhere.”

“It’sadeal.”
Bricebacksuppullingmealongwithher.“Comeon.Let’sgohomeandcelebrate.”
“Yousureyoudon’twanttohaveanotherunforgettablemomenthere?”
“Ifthebridgefreezesfromthestormwe’llbescrewed,West.AsmuchasIlovethisgesture,I’d

ratherbesafethansorry.Doyouwantthemotherofyourunbornchildtofreezetodeathonthedayyou
askedforherhand?”

“Of course not. I just figured twenty minutes wouldn’t make a difference. You could simply

surrendertomycharmandletmegetyouhot.”

She keeps tugging on me until we reach the long stairwell to exit the lighthouse. “I’m going to

pretend I didn’t hear that. Turn off the lights. I’ll meet you in the truck, babe.” Before she disappears
downthestairsshespinsaroundtoaddressmeonelasttime.“Oh,anddon’tforgettolockthedoors.I’d
ratherusnotgetintroubleandneverbewelcomeback.Comesummertime,I’mgoingtotakeyouupon
theofferforanothernightherealonewithyou.”

Itakeherhandandkissit,smilingwhenIpullaway.“I’llberightbehindyou.”
“I’llbewaiting.”
Ientertheobservationroomandchecktheexteriordoorstomakesurethelatchesarefastened.

WhiledoingsoIpeeroutintothedistance.It’sdark,butthefallingsnowmakesitbrighter.Visibilityis
limited, but for some reason I’ve never been able to see clearer. My future is a glowing path. We’ve
createdalife,andknowingthatmakesmefeellikeIhaveeverythingI’veeverwanted.It’ssurreal.

Chapter2
Weston

It’sChristmasmorning,butIhavenourgetoclimboutofbedandheadovertomyfather’shouse.

What started as a possible White Christmas has turned into an icy disaster. We should have known the
beauty of the snow wouldn’t last since we’re so close to the coastline. Living near the ocean has its
pitfalls. We’re usually cursed with torrential downpours during the winter months. The constant muddy
conditionsmakegettingaroundamess,nottomentionthetemperatureofthefallingrain.Mixthatwitha
morningfrostthatcausesallofthewatertofreezeandyouhaveanideaoftheeverydaystrugglesofthe
offseason.

Bricestirsinthebed,theblanketandsheetslippingawayfromherbackside.Herarmsarenestled

underher,probablytokeepwarm,whileshehugsoneparticularpillowagainstherface.Wehadalong
night,soI’mgoingtolethersleepalittlelongerthismorning.

Oncewearrivedbacktothehouseweshare,theonewhereherhomeofficeislocated,wesatby

thefireplaceandfeastedonapizzauntilwewerestuffed.We’dalreadyeatendinner,sothiswasalate
nightpigoutofcomfortfood.

AtfirstIkeptacountofhowmanytimesIcaughtBricestaringdownathernewengagementring,

but after forty it became monotonous. She kept thanking me, admitting she had no idea it was going to
happen.LikeImentionedbefore,Briceisterriblewithsurprises,soIfeelaccomplishedthatImanagedto
holdoneoveronher.

Admittingitwasoneofthebestnightsofmylifeisn’tdifficult.Ijustwishshe’dletmesharethe

newsaboutthebabywithourfamilies.Withhermedicalknowledge,Bricethinksit’sbesttowaituntil
aftertheholidays,butIknowapartofitisthatshefeelseveryonewillthinktheengagementisbecauseof
thepregnancy.

She’sright.Ifshe’dtoldmefirstandIwasn’tprepared,Iwouldhavegoneoutandboughtaring

because it was the right decision to make. Although, it’s not the situation. I’ve been planning this
engagementformonths.It’ssurprisinghowmybrotherswereabletokeepthesecret,nottomentionmy
sister,whoissomehowalwaysrunninghermouthaboutsomething.

Breakfastinbed.
Itsoundslikeaspecialtreatonacoldholidaymorning.Istartwiththecoffee,untilIremember

thepregnancy.WhenIworkatmyfather’srestaurant,alocalfavoritethat’snamedaftermylatemother,
thepregnantwomenalwaysrequestdecaf.ThenIrealizeit’sbeenafewweekssinceI’veseenherwitha

cup in her hand. It’s funny how I neglected to notice little changes in her daily activities. Now that I
recountthelastcoupleofweeksIcan’trecallherwakingupandgoingforaruneither.Thesignswere
there.Ijustnevernoticedthem.

I’llhavetoworkonthat.
Starting with the bacon, because I know the aroma will soon fill the home waking my sleeping

beauty, I separate the contents of the package in a large pan. While waiting for it to cook to a crisp, I
check my phone for messages. Several well-wishers have left texts. I write them back, before going to
social media. My phone buzzes again as I’m flipping the bacon on the opposite side to finish. It’s from
Brice.

Comebacktobed.-B
Notuntilbreakfastisdone.Staywhereyouare.DONOTGETDRESSED!–W
Forsomeonewhodidn’twanttolayaroundallday,I’meagertoclimbbackontomymattresswith

mybeautifulfiancée.

Perfectinganovereasyeggwithoutaslimycentertakesacertainkindofskill.I’mrushing,sothe

firstthreeyokesbreakassoonasIcrackthem.Theforthsitsperfectlysurroundedbyapanofbutterto
prevent sticking. One light flip and I’m able to start on another, successfully accomplishing the same
result.

Icutsomeorangesandplacethemonaplatebeforeaddingtoast,thebaconandfinallyeggs.Mine

consistsofthebrokenyokedeggs,friedtoacrispduetoneglect.They’lltastefinewhenIdousethemin
hotsauce.Anair-filledlaughcomesoutwhenIthinkaboutit.

OnceIloadthefoodonatray,Ifillupalargeglassoforangejuiceandcarryitintothebedroom.
Bricehasrenderedmespeechless.
She’sonherside,completelynakedsansthreebows.Onecovershercrotch,whiletheothertwo

keephernipplesatbay.Likeateenageboy,mymouthfallstothefloor,I’msalivatingasifsomecanine
instincthastakenovermybody.

“MerryChristmas,babycakes,”sheofferswhilepattingthespacebesideher.She’sremovedthe

large goose down comforter that she unknowingly steals in the middle of the night. “Do you like your
presentorareyouplanningonstandingtherewithatrayoffoodalldaylong?”

“Bothseemequallyrewarding,”Itease.
“NowthatyouknowI’meatingfortwo,maybeyoucouldoffermewhateversmellssodelicious?”
Isnapoutofitandsitontheedgeofthebedbesideher.Herdisheveledbrunettehairgetspushed

backbehindhershouldersasshepreparestoeat.I’malwaysgettingonheraboutstrayhairsbeingfound
allovertheplace.Igetreamedontheboatwhenmybrotherspulllongstrandsfrommyclothes.Brice
thinksitfrustratesme,buttobehonestI’musedtohavingasisterwithlonghair.It’sjustanotherreasonI
canpickonherforsomethingshe’llneverbeabletofullycontrol.

Hercreamyskintauntscaress.Myfingerscoarseoverherhip,goosebumpscoveringthevicinity.

Myeyesarefixatedonthetworedbowscoveringherperfectrack.

Throughthewindow,anincandescentglowbroadcastsabrightnessaroundus.Herskinradiates

likeshe’sanangel;abeautiful,preciousgiftfromthelordabove.I’mnottryingtoseemsappy,butthat’s
exactlyhowIseethiswoman.Sheconsumesmyeverywakingthought.She’smysaviorinmorewaysthan
fixingwhatIkeptburiedfromthepeopleclosesttome.ThewayIlookatlifeiscompletelydifferentnow.
Shecandobetter,butforsomereasonI’mthemanshewantstospendtherestofherlifewith.NowI’m
goingtobeafather.She’snotshowingyet,butsoontheevidencewillbeobvious.Everyonewillknow
we’restartingafamily.They’llknowthisispermanent.Herparentswillfinallygetoffmyback.They’ll
bereassuredbymylong-termcommitmenttotheirdaughterandourfuture.

“Whyareyoustaringatmewiththatweirdlookonyourface?Don’tyoulikethesurprise?”
“Justadmiringmypackage.”

Shemotionstowardtheplatesoffood.“Whatsmellssogood?”
“It’sjustwhatthegooddoctorordered.Bacon.Lotsofbacon.”
Shesquintsandcurlsherlip.“ForsomereasonIfeelalittlesicktomystomach.”Secondslater

shestandsandmakesabeelinefortheconnectedmasterbathroom.IhearherhurlingevenbeforeI’mable
towrapmyheadaroundwhatthehelljusthappened.

Followingthesoundsofpuking,IcomeupbehindBricewhohappenstobehuggingtherimofthe

toilet,nolongerlookingthatsexyinsuchlittleattire.

Ikindoffeelbadforleavingtheseatupagain,andIknowwhenshe’sfinishedgettingsickI’mnot

goingtoheartheendofit.LikeImentionedbefore,Idon’tdeserveher.

Iholdontoherhairandwatchhergaggingwithnothingcomingout.She’swhiningandittakesa

fewsecondstofigureoutwhatshe’ssaying.“Whyisitsostrong?”

“What,babe?Thetasteofyourpuke?”I’mnottryingtobefunnywhenIask.I’munsurewhatshe

couldbereferringto.

“Thesmell.Godit’sawful.It’sthestrongestbaconI’veeversmelledinmylife.”*gag**heave*“

You’vegottogetitoutofthehouse.”*gag*“Openthewindowsorsomething.”

“It’sfreezingoutside.”
“I’d rather freeze to death than smell that bacon for another second.” She spits one more time

beforerestingherheadontherimofthetoilet.Shelooksweak,andmyheartbreakswhenIthinkofit
being Christmas. It’s bad enough that I spent half the night sitting up worrying about how to be a good
father.IwonderedifI’dsomehowscrewup.

Christmashasn’talwaysbeenahappytimeforme.Iwasinmylateteenswhenmymotherpassed

away.ForthefirstthreeyearsIgotplasteredonthetwentiethofDecemberandstayedtrasheduntilthe
NewYear.Itwastheonlyway.Icouldn’tsitbyadecoratedtreeandexpecthersmilingfacetobethere
handing us presents. I couldn’t eat breakfast and not imagine the huge smorgasbord she’d fix for our
family,orthefeastofhamandturkeyfordinner.Noneofuscould.Wehidbehindthebottle,becauseit
wasbetterthansufferingtheunimaginablepainofherabsence.

Ittookmostofusyearstobeabletohaveanysortofcelebrationagain,andeventhenitwasn’t

anythingI’dconsiderspecial.Theexcitementandmotivationneverexisted.Mymother’sfavoriteholiday
waslikesufferingherpassingoverandoveragain.

Briceforcedmetoexpressmydeepestpain.SheshowedmethatIcouldnotonlylive,butalso

enjoythefeelingofcompanionship,andthenfinallyopenmyhearttothepossibilityoflovingagain.

Brice went from hating me, to feeling sorry for me, then to befriending me, followed by the

deepest love I’ve ever experienced. But it’s not just about the void she filled. Her love is more. It’s
constantandselfless.She’llnevergiveuponme,andknowingthatonlytellsmeIcan’tgiveuponher,
even if she’s got her head deep in the toilet because the smell of the special breakfast I made her is
crippling. Even if I want a piece of that delicious crispy pork between my teeth, I have to restrain. It’s
aboutcompromise.Fallingforherwastheeasypart.Gettinghertoreturnthefeelingsback,oratleast
admitshehadthemwasadifferentstory.NowshedependsonmeandI’mgoingtoproveI’mupforthe
challenge.

Imakeabeelineforthetray,grabbingallthefoodandcarryingitbackintothekitchen.Collecting

allthebacon,thepanIused,andeventhediscardedgreaseinanemptycantocool,Irunoutdoorsandsit
them down where they can fumigate. I’m halfway back in the house, because it’s still sleeting and I’m
barefoot,whenIseeoneofmybrotherspullinginthedriveway.It’sBrantwithhiswifeJamie.Theygot
marriedacouplemonthsagoonceherdivorcefromherexwasfinalized.Iknowforafactthatthey’ve
beentryingtostartafamily,soI’mnotgoingtogloatwithmygoodnewsuntilBricethinksit’sagood
idea.

It’sclearI’mnotdressedfortheweather.Standinginapairoflooseboxers,andaninsideoutT-

shirt,Icrossmyarmsandwaitforscrutiny.Itcomesassoonashisfeethitthepavement.“Whatinthe
hell?Gethersomethingshedidn’tlikeandgetkickedout?”

Ishakemyhead.“No.Wehaven’tdonepresentsyet.”
“Thenwhyinthehellareyououtside?”
They follow me indoors before I’m able to reply. My teeth continue to chatter as I pour myself

anotherhotcupofcoffeeandprayittakesawaythestinginmyfeetsomehow.“Icookedbadbacon.Must
haveexpired,”Iimply.

“Smellsfinetome.”
Justhearingthehousestillreeksofgreasyporkcausesalarm.Mypoorwomanisfacedowninthe

toiletandI’mnothelpingthesituation.“I’llberightback.LetmegetsomeclothesonandwakeBrice.”

“Tellhertohurryup.Dadwantsustherebeforeeleven.”Brantishisnormalmorningpeachyself.
“Shutup,Brant.Theycantaketheirtime,”Jamieoffers.“It’sChristmas.”
Ileavethetwolovebirdstolocatemypatient.She’shunchedoverthesinkvanitywashingherface

off.She’spale,andIcantellshe’snotinthemoodforcompany.“Who’shere?”

“BrantandJamie.”
HerhandscoverherfaceasIpullherintomyarms.“Wantmetotellthemyou’resick?”
“It’llgoaway.”
“It’sfine.Ifyoufeelbetterwe’llmakeourwayoutlater.”
“Areyousure?”
Inod.“Ofcourse,babe.Westillhavepresentstoopenhere.I’mfineifit’sjustus.I’msurewe

havesomethingwecanthrowintheoventoeatlaterifyou’reuptoit.”

“Rightnowfoodisthelastthingonmymind.I’msoqueasy,andeverythingsmellsfunnytome.

I’msorry.Iknowthisisn’thowyoupicturedwakingupforChristmas.”

“Youwon’thearmecomplaining.AslongasI’mwithyouitdoesn’tmatter.”
Sheoffersasmileonceherhandslower,butIcantellshe’sdoingherbesttobravethissickness.
“Comeon.Let’sgetyoubackinbed.”
Ituckherunderthecoversandgiveherkissontheforehead.“Letmetakecareofyouforonce.”
“I’llhavetocallmyparents.”
I smirk. The idea of skipping their house makes me want to celebrate. I’m always walking on

eggshells when it comes to them. “Just take the morning and see how it goes. Hopefully it’s a quick
recovery.”

“Thanks, West. You’re the best.” She says this to be funny. It’s this thing she does when she’s

tryingtogetariseoutofme.“Westisthebest,”sherepeats.

I shake my head and walk out the door, reminiscing on how the saying got started, and why it

reallyshouldn’tbesomethingwejokeabout.

BackinhighschoolIhadareputationforthewrongreason.Apparentlythegirlslabeledmeas

beingthebestatcertainthings.Bricewasalwaystheonepersonwhothoughtitwasridiculous.ShesaysI
was a piece of meat, thrown around and used without knowing it. Back then the idea of being with me
disgustedher.Now,sheusestheoldsayingassomekindofjoketoherself.ItneverhelpswhenIrubitin
thatshecouldhaveknownIwasthebestalongtimeagowhensherefusedtogivemethetimeofday.It
willprobablynevergetold,atleastIhopenot,becauseIsuredoenjoygivinghershit,andareasonto
keep on me. She’s a never ending challenge, especially with her occupation being reading and helping
people.GoodforherIreally...reallyenjoyplayingdoctorpatient.

MybrotherandJamieareawaitingmyreturn.It’sunfortunateIhavebadnews.“Youshouldhead

onovertoDad’swithoutus.Briceisn’tfeelingwell.Shejustpuked.”

“Isshepregnant,”Jamiequestions,thoughI’mnotsurprised.Thetwoareclose,andherbeinga

veterinarianonlymakesherquestioneverymedicalscenario.

She’sblindsidedmewiththequestion.AsIstanddumbfounded,Jamie’seyeslightup.Shewhisks

intothedirectionofthebedroomwithmechasingafterher,andBrantnotfarbehind.

Brice is sitting up against a pillow lined headboard. She pulls the covers up higher when she

realizesourcompanyhasdecidedtocheckonher.Jamiewastesnotimesittingontheedgeofthebed.
“MerryChristmas,girlfriend.Howyoudoing?”

Briceturnsherconcernedglancetowardme,asifIspilledthebeanstothefirstpeopleIcamein

contact with. My eyes widen as I try to telepathically inform her she’s wrong, but obviously fail. “Big
mouthpromisednottosayanything.”

ImmediatelyJamiesavesmefromscrutiny.Shegiggles.“Hedidn’tsayanything.You’repukingin

themorning.It’sthefirstsign.”

“It’sneverhappenedbefore.Ismelledthebacon,anditwashorrible.”
Brant laughs, while I cross my arms and hope they won’t turn around and tell the whole world.

“Weweregoingtokeepitasecretforabit,”Itellthem.“Onaccountofherparentsandtheengagement.”

JamiegrabsBrice’shandandchecksoutthering.“Holycrap.You’reengaged?”
“Heaskedmelastnight,atthelighthousewiththesnowfallingdownaroundus.Itwasbeautiful

andperfect.”Shelookstomeassheexplains.“Isaidyes,amilliontimesover.”

“Ofcourseyoudid,”Brantmumbles.“Weknowyou’vegotitbadforthisschmuck.”Hepatsmy

shoulders as he says it. “Congratulations guys. It’s awesome news. It’s about time though. You’ve been
beatingaroundthebushfortoolong.”

“Yeah,”Isaywithascratchtomyhead.“Sheplayedhardtogetforalongtime.”
Bricegrins.“That’sbecauseyouwereaprick.”
“Okay,kickmeintheballsalready.”
Theyalllaughatthestabtomyego.
Brice pats the side of the bed where Jamie doesn’t sit. “Don’t worry, babe. I know you’re all

mine.”

Idon’tanswer.I’mnotgoingtoactlikeapussyinfrontofmybrother,whoIknowwillgiveme

shituntilthedayIdie.Isimplynodandpretenditdoesn’tgettome.MypastissomethingIcannever
change.Myactions,themistakesImade,thewomenIused,andit’sallapartofwhoIamnow.Bricehas
showedmethat.She’shelpedmeunderstandthatIdidn’tneedtobingeonanythingtofeelbetterabout
life. She taught me to like myself enough to care. It still hurts that she might look at me as flawed. I’ll
neverbeperfect,butshe’sshowedmenoneofusare.

“Roomtotalk,bro.DoIneedtoremindyouaboutthattimeinBaltimorewiththosesisters?”
Brantclencheshisjawthewayhedoeswhenhe’sbeendefeated.Jamiesnickers.“Hmm,Inever

heardaboutthisstory.”

“It’snotfortoday,”hequicklyresponds.“Howfaralongareyou,Brice?”
“Acouplemonths.Westfoundoutlastnight.Ididn’tknowhewasgoingtoaskmetomarryhim.”
“Hesurprisedusall.”Jamieadmits.
JamiehasbeenaroundandknownBricesincewewereallkids,buttheyweren’tfriendsuntilshe

camebacktotownandstarteddatingmybrother.Forthemostpartwe’vebecomeclosetothem,goingas
farassayingthey’rewhomweliketospendourfreetimewith.Bothwomenarebusy.JamierunsaVet
clinic,whileBricemanagesherhumanpatientsoutofthehouse.Thegaragehasbeenconvertedtoalarge
officewhereshecanseeherpatientswithoutthedistractionsofbeinginthehouse.Duringtheevenings
shespendsalotoftimewithherparentsandsister.Theyhavetwodinnersaweek,andusuallyIdon’tgo
along. Her father and I butt heads. He thinks a waterman isn’t good enough for his precious doctor
daughter.He’stoldmeseveraltimesthathe’llneverrespectme.That’stheproblemwithlivinginasmall
townanddatinganexFBIagent’sdaughter.I’msurehe’sdonehishomeworkonme.Heknowshowmany
ticketsI’vehad,andevenmentionedmycreditscoreonceafterafewbeers.AnothertimeheaskedifI’d

everbeentreatedforaSTD,whichIhadwaybackwhenIfirstgraduatedhighschool.Itwasn’tanything
thatsometopicalointmentcouldn’tcure,butobviouslycouldonlybefoundinmymedicalrecords.

LikeIsaid,he’snevergoingtolikemeandI’mokaywithit.Hedoesn’thavetobefriendmeor

approveofmemarryinghisdaughter.We’lldoitwithouthispermission,andinthiscasethat’sexactly
how I want it. I didn’t ask for Brice’s hand. I refuse to. Why bother? I already know the answer, even
thoughitwon’tdeterme.Wearegrown-ups.It’snotmedievaltimes.Arrangedmarriagesinthisdayand
agearefarandfewinAmerica.

“Nowallwehavetodoiskeepthepregnancyasecretuntilherparentscanabsorbthenewsofus

beingengaged.”

JamieandBrantbothlaughatthisassumption.Mybrothershakeshishead.“Goodluckwiththat.”
Aguffawexpels.“MerryChristmastome.”
TheyallknowwhatI’mgettingat.ThiswillbetheworstChristmasforBrice’sfatherandIcan

hardlycontainmyexcitementtohavesomethingoverhim.

“He’sliabletoshootyou,”Brantmentions.
“Heain’tgoingtoshootme,buthemightshedatear.That’swhatI’mhopingfor.”
“WestonWallace,behave.Idon’tneedanaltercationonChristmas.I’lltellmyparentsandyou’ll

sitbesidemecalmandwithoutashit-eatinggrinonyourface.Gotit?”

Inod.WhetherI’mabletosmileisirrelevant.Thenewsalonewillpuckerhisbuttholeandgive

himhemorrhoids.Icanhardlycontainmyexcitement.

Chapter3
Weston

“Yousureyou’refeelingbetter?”Iask,uncertainofhowmyfiancéecanpossiblygofrompuking

toeatingthatquickly.

“Yes,”Bricepushesmetowardthetruck.Thesleethasturnedtorainasthedaytimetemperature

roseabovefreezing.Briceoffersanannoyedgesture,flippingherhandintheair.“Stopactinglikeyou’re
notexcitedtobreakmydad’sheart.”

Ichuckleandshakemyhead.“Ican’thelpit.I’dbelyingifIsaidapartofmehasn’twantedthis

sincethemomentwebegandating.”

“You thought I was hard to crack,” she reminds me as we get on our way. I’ve had the truck

runningsoit’swarminside,buttheicestillremainsonthesidewindows.Irollminedownandbeatitoff
soI’mabletoseeoutofmymirror.Bricedoesthesametoherside.Evenassheshufflesinalargefake
furtrimmedparka,Icansmellthescentofhershampooandconditioner.

AftermybrotherandJamieleftus,wespentagoodamountoftimeshowering,anddoingsome

otherthings,likeopeningpresents.Theparkaisagiftfromme.She’salwaysfreezing,soIknowshe’ll
get use out of it. I’m good in a thick jacket, because it’s usually hard for me to sit still. Brice is the
opposite.Shesitsallday,andevenkeepsaheaterunderneathherdesk.

Igotanewrazor,whichIfindcomicalsinceshelovestostealmineanduseitonherlegs.WhileI

canappreciatethembeingsilkyandsmoothformybenefit,Ioftenkeepmycomplaintsatbay,althoughI
haveafeelingthisonewillendupthesameplacetheoldonedid.Shealsogotmeanewcontrollerfor
myvideogamingsystemandacaseformycellphone.Mylastpresentwasabookaboutpregnancyand
becomingafather.Iplanonreadingitcovertocover,becauseIknownothingaboutnewbornsorraisinga
child.

Iboughtherapairofbettersneakerstowearwhenweridebikes,oneswithoutlaces,becausemy

specialladyalwaysseemstogethersstuckinthechainandendsupscreaming.Idon’tgetit.She’shighly
intelligent,butsometimesdoesthesilliestthings.

Shehappenstobewearingapairofbootsthatcometoherkneesandahatthatcoversherears.

Whenshelooksinmydirectionhersmallframednoseisred.“Youcan’tpossiblybecold.”

“I’mfine.It’sonlymyfacethat’sfreezing.”Sheleansintotheblowingheatventandclosesher

eyes.

Thedrivingisslow.Idon’twanttochanceslipping,andsincewe’reonlygoingtwomilesdown

theroadthere’sreallynorush.

WhenwepullupatthehouseshewasraisedinIsuckinaheavybreath.Peeringoveratherleft

hand,theringshinesthesamewayitdidwhenIputitonherfinger.Sheoffersmeaquicksmile.“You’re
nervous.”

“I’malittleapprehensive.”
“Afraidhe’sgoingtogooffhisrocker?”
“Youtellme.You’retheshrink.”
“I think you’ll be fine if you keep a good distance.” She sighs while staring at the front door.

“Maybeweshouldn’ttellthemtoday.Wecouldwait,celebrateandhaveanicedinner,thentellthemthis
comingweek,orafterthenewyear.”

“Seriously?” As much as I expect her father to lose his mind, I won’t allow Brice to keep our

engagementasecret.Iworkedtoodamnhardtogethertothispoint.I’llbedamnedifherassholeofadad
isgoingtopreventusfromcelebrating.

“Ican’tkeepitasecret.It’sthebestChristmaspresentever.Justletmedrinkafewbeersbefore

wetelltheoldman.Ineedtopreparementally.”

“The only thing you need to prepare for is my dad’s foot up your ass when he finds out I’m

pregnantbeforethewedding.”

“ShouldwebookaflighttoVegasandgetitoverwithnow?”
Sheshovesme.“West,beserious.”
“We’renottellingthemaboutthebaby.Igetit.”
“Promiseyouwon’tletitsliplikeyoudidwithBrantandJamie?”
“Jamieguessedit,Itoldyouthatearlier.”
“Still,youcouldhavelied.”
“Lied?” I ask. “Why? I don’t care who knows. I’m excited. If we get money from your parents

we’retotallyusingittofurnishthenursery.”

Sheshakesherhead,getsoutofthetruck,andstewsasshemarchestotheentrance,leavingmeto

carryinallthegiftsforherfamily.

IcanalmostsmelltheheatradiatingfrominsidewhenIopenthedoor.Thearomaoffoodfillsthe

foyer, while voices seem to be coming from the living room. I follow them until I spot Brice and her
mother,whosenameisKathy.She’saheavysetwomanwiththemostbeautifulfaceI’veeverseen.Her
smileisalwaysfriendly,eventhoughIknowshedoesn’tthinkI’mrightforherdaughter.Sheheadsinmy
direction, and doesn’t seem to care if my hug is half cocked with two hands full of gift bags. “Merry
Christmas,Weston.”

“Sametoyou,”IofferasBricegrabsthebags.“Where’sMr.Phillip?”

“SantabroughtKimberacarforChristmas.Theytookitforaspin.”
Mybrowsraise.“Really?Kimbergotacar?”
Briceshrugslikeit’snobigdeal,whileIfeelabitjealousandannoyed.TheybabyKimber.She’s

twenty four years old, immature, and self centered. She dropped out of college and works retail jobs
whilelivingathomestill.

It’sridiculoustothinkthey’dgooutoftheirwaytogivehersomethingexpensivewhenshe’snot

goingtoappreciateit.

“TheygotmeacarwhenIwasheragetoo.”Idon’tknowwhyBricefeelstheneedtoexplain.I

won’t change my opinion about her sister. I know for a fact that Brice is always coming to her rescue
whenshe’sscrewedup,whichisoften.Evenmybrotherssteerclearofher,onaccountofnotwantingto
getonmybadside.Icouldn’tcarelessaboutthat.She’snotworththequicklay,notwithherattitude.

“It’sagenerousgestureforsure.Iwishmydadwouldhavebeenabletogiveuskidsacar.We

hadtoworkforit.”

I catch a disturbed reaction form across her mother’s face. “Would you like something to drink,

West?”Thefakesmileappearsagainwhenshespeaks.“Imadesweettea.”

“Sure. That would be great. Thanks.” I was taught to use manners, but I could be an expert on

etiquetteandthey’dstillhateme.AtfirstIthoughtitwasbecauseofmyappearance.Ihavetattoos,and
myhairwasprettyoutofcontrolwhenBricefirstbroughtmearound.ThenIcleanedupmylook.Brice
cutmyhair,andIstartedwearingpantsthatactuallyfitme,insteadofthejeansthathungoffmyass.Iwas
respectfulandalwayshonest,buttheystillpickedatme.Behindmybackthey’dbegBricetoopenher
eyesandseethatshewaswastinghertimeonanimmaturetownboy.Theysaidmywholefamilywasbad
news,whichisn’teventrue.Myfatherisagoodman.Sure,whenmomdiedhedrankhimselfintoastupor
onoccasion,buthetaughtuskidstoactright.Weweren’tcriminals.

Bricesitsnexttomeonthelongcouch,whilehermothertakestheseatacrossfromus.Thetree

blinksdifferentcoloredlightsinthefarcorner,whileNutcrackerslineupthelargefrontwindowsill.

The sound of a motor pulling into the long gravel driveway captures my immediate attention. I

knowthey’vereturned,andasmyhandsbegintoperspireIbecomeanxious.I’mnotnecessarilyabadguy
whowishesilltowardsothers,butthismanwouldbetheequivalenttomyarchenemyinacomicbook.
He’stheworstpossiblefather-in-lawscenariooutthere.IfeellikethatmoviewiththeFockerguy,except
I’m living it for real. The power he holds over me is frustrating, so being aware that I have something
overhisheadmakesthisholidayabiteasiertohandle.

Officially,it’smyfourthChristmaswithBrice.Wecelebratedasfriendsbeforethat,butitwasthe

startofherbringingmehomewithher.Afteradmittingtoherfeelings,theglovescameoff.I’dmether
parentsbefore,butthischangedtheballgame.Iwasnolongertheguytheirdaughterwasdeterminedto
fix.Ibecametheirworstnightmare,andIreallydon’tgetwhy.Imean,sureIhaveapast,buteveryonein
this small, godforsaken town has some kind of past they wish they could take back. Honestly though, I
don’twishIcouldtakeitback,becauseallofthosechoicesledmetoBrice.I’mwithherbecauseIwasa
wreckshefelttheneedtofix.

It’snotlikeBriceisperfect.Shewasagoodstudent,whopridedherselfinachievingwhatsheset

out, but she smoked a lot of weed. She hung out with the drama kids, and who knows what else they
indulgedtheirextracurricularactivitiesin.Ialmostdon’twanttoeverask.Peoplethinkthenerdytypeare
innocentandtheyaren’t.They’rejustbetteraboutnotgettingcaught.

Ontheotherhand,Ican’twrapmyheadaroundthefactthatKimberisprobablyaspromiscuous

as I was, and for a chick that’s pretty bad. She’s been caught stealing, and they’ve had her come home
trashed way more then they will ever admit. Yet, she gets a new car and a pat on the back, while I
continuetoreceivethestinkeyeandwarningsaboutruiningtheirdaughter’sfuture.

All they’ve done is shown me what I want more than anything. What they think isn’t enough for

Brice,turnsouttobeexactlywhatshewants.We’rehappyinourlittlehouse.Wehaveplentyofmoneyto
takevacationsandenjoyanightoutifwechoose.We’renotstrappedwithbillsbecauseluxuriesaren’t
importanttous.Thisiscomingfromaguywhousedtoblowhalfhispaycheckinthebaronpayday.I’ve
grownup.Isn’tthatwhat’ssupposedtohappen?Iguesswhatkeepsmebitteristhefactthatnomatterhow
hardItryI’llneverbeabletodorightbyBrice.I’llalwaysbeconsideredanoutsider,evenintwenty
years from now when I’ve been faithful and supportive. It won’t matter. I can tell every time that man
looksatme.SoIhaveachoice.Icaneitherletiteatmyconsciencealiveorannoythehelloutofhim.
Thelatterseemsalotmoreentertaining.Ifhewantsreasonstogivemeahardtime,he’sabouttogeta
bombdroppedonhim.

Chapter4
Weston

HeenterswearingapairofkhakislacksandanuglyasssweaterIswearwaspurchasedsometime

intheeighties.Hisgrayhairisslickedbackoverhisbaldingscalp,andhislargebellyalmostgivesthe
impressionofburstingit’swayoutofthejackethehashalfzipped.OureyesmeetandIalreadynoticethe
building animosity between us. Lowering my gaze, I catch Kimber walking into the house behind him.
She’swearingwhatlookslikeanewNorthFacejacket,afancypairofthefurrybootsgirlslike,anda
smilethat’sdamnnearannoying.Sheholdsupasetofkeyswhiletakingherhandthroughthelongreddish
brownlocksthatblockonesideofherface.“LookwhatIgot.Canyouevenbelieveit?”

IraisemybrowsandsiponthefreshteaI’vebeenhanded.Bricestandsandhugsbothofthem

before peering out the window at the new vehicle. A red convertible. Of course they’d get her the car
she’s talked about for months. So predictable. If anyone is undeserving, it’s this chick. She’s such a
menace.

Ittakestheoldmanamatterofsecondstospotsomethingshiningonhisotherdaughter’slefthand.

Hetakesherbythewrist,causingmetopreparetoreactaccordinglyifhethinkshecanharmherinany
way.“Don’ttellmethisiswhatIthinkitis.”

Shepullsoutofhisholdandflashesitaroundforeveryonetosee.Iknowit’snothingshabbythat

hecanmock.Ifinancedthesucker,andforthenextfiveyearsI’llbemakingheftypayments.

“Can you believe it?” She starts. “Last night West asked me to marry him. It was beautiful. He

tookmetothelighthousejustasthesnowwasstartingtofall.”

“Thelighthouse?”Herfatherquestions.“Theparkisclosedafterhours.”
“A friend of mine is a Natural Resource officer. He gave me the key to the lighthouse so I was

abletopopthequestionintheveryspotwesharedourfirstofficialdate.”Istandandheadovertowhere
Briceis,wrappingmyarmsaroundherwaistasIcontinue.“It’sourspecialplace,right,babe?”

She nods as I kiss the side of her face and glance over at her father, who may or may not be

wondering how fast he can grab one of his firearms to end my life. “It was time. We’re not getting any
younger.”

Brice’s mom must sense the mind-war us two guys are currently concentrated on. She claps her

handstogethertogetourattention.“Thiscallsforacelebration.”Icantellshehasmixedfeelings.She
wantsherchildtobehappy,butatthesametimedoesn’twanttopissoffhercontrollinghusband.“I’llget
ustheeggnog.”

Bricespinsaroundandoffersmeaquickkiss.WhenshepullsawayshenoticesI’minastaring

matchwithherfather.Shegivesmealookofdisapproval,andleadsmebackovertothesofa.Atrayof

eggnogisbeingcarriedfromthekitchen.Kimberisthefirsttotakeaglass,beforesittingnexttoBrice
andgrabbingherhandtostareatthering.“It’shuge.Ibetthatsetyoubackafewdollars,West.”

I nod. She’s so damn greedy. She’d probably reject a future proposal if the ring wasn’t to her

standards.Whoevergetsstuckwiththathotmessisdoomedforalifetimeofregret.

“Yoursisterisworthit.”IelbowBricelightlyonthesidetocatchherattention.We’rebothgiven

a glass of the nog, before her parents offer their glasses to the air. We always toast to something, but I
neverimagineditwouldbeus.ShetakesherarmandwrapsitintoBrice’sfathers,andallI’mthinkingis
thatshe’sdoingittopreventhimfromattackingme.

“ToBriceandWest,”Kimberbegins.
One voice doesn’t repeat it, but instead of making eye contact with him again, I focus on Brice

raisingthealcoholicbeveragetoherlips.Shedoesn’tdrink,butpretendsandsitstheglassdownonthe
coffeetableinfrontofus.Idrinkhalf,eventhoughIhatethestuff,andputminebesidehers.

“Doesittastebad?”Hermotherasks.
“No.Justnotinthemoodforittoday,”Bricereplies.
“But it’s always been your favorite,” Kimber reminds everyone. “Who needs a reason to drink

anyway?Ifyou’renotgoingtofinishit,Iwill.”

“She’sprobablyknockedup.That’swhytheywanttogetmarried,”herfathermumbles.
ThemomenthisfocushitsmeIthinkheknowsthetruth.IturnmyeyestoBrice,whoisalready

beginningtopanic.She’sfidgets,whichissomethingsheonlydoeswhenshe’snervous.

“I’mnotpregnant,”sheliesquickly.
Itakeherhandandsqueezeit.“Igottheringmonthsago.I’vebeenplanningthissincelastyear,

sir.Iloveyourdaughter,andIwanttomakeanhonestwomanoutofher.”

“Yeah,I’msureyoudo.Commoncourtesyobviouslyisn’tyourstrongsuit.I’massumingyouhad

noregardforaskingmypermission.”

“Listen,”Ibegin,becauseIknowthisisnevergoingtogetbetterifIdon’tmaketheeffort.“It’s

Christmas.I’vebeenapartofyourdaughter’slifeforyearsnow.Welivetogether,andIknowitbothers
youguysthatwearen’tmarried.Iwantthisforus.Bricewantsit.We’rehappy,anditwouldberealnice
ifforoncewecouldputthepastbehindus.IfwewerejuststartingoutIwouldhavecometoyou,”Ilie.
“We’rebasicallyalreadymarriedasitis.”

“Wearewhowearebecauseofourpast,Weston.Youclearlywerenevertaughtrespect.”
Ishakemyhead,clenchingmyjawtopreventaviolentrushofwordsIknowIshouldn’tsay.“I’m

notthepunkkidyoustillseemeas.I’magrownmanwithresponsibilitiesandcommitments.Itakegood
careofyourdaughter.Itreatherright,andhavetheutmostrespectforherasaperson.Youmightnotthink
I’mworthyofher,butshedoes,andthat’sgottobegoodenough.Saywhatyouwantaboutme,butdon’t
everquestionmyactionswhenitcomestoyourdaughter.Withorwithoutyourpermission,we’regoing
married.”

Bricefeelstheneedtointervene.“Dad,Westisright.It’stimetostopthisfeudbetweenyou.West

isgoingtobeyourson-in-law.”

Hisjawtightens.Bothbrowsfurrowbeforehehuffsaloudsigh.He’sfumingandifitcontinues

he’s liable to give himself heart failure. It’s certainly raised his blood pressure. I’m still not sure I’m
makingthingsbetterorworse,butIhavetohopeit’satleastgettingmesomewhere.

Hisdecisionwasalreadymadebeforemyattempttocleartheair.It’sunfortunatewecan’tcome

toacommonunderstanding,becauseI’dlikenothingmorethantohaveaconnectionwiththeman,butit’s
nevergoingtohappen.He’stoosetinhisways.“We’llseehowlongthislastsbeforemydaughterwakes
upandseesyouforwhoyoureallyare.”

“Dad,comeonandbefair.Westisagoodguy.”

Hewavesthecommentaway,asifhecansomehowmakeitdisappear.“Idon’twanttohearit.

I’vespentmywholelifeprofilingscum.YouthinkIcan’ttellarottentomatointhebunch?Hewillshow
histruecolors,andwhenhedoes,you’llallbesorry.”

“IfI’mguiltyofanything,it’slovingBrice,”Idefend.
“Ifyouneedme,I’llbeinmyoffice.Letmeknowwhendinnerisready.Eggnogisn’tgoingtocut

ittoday.Ineedthehardstuff.”

Bricehurriesafterhim,whileI’mleftshakingmyhead.Kimberscootsovertowhisper.“Wayto

go,douchebag.Thanksforruininganotherholiday.”

“Ididn’truinshit.”
“She’spregnantisn’tshe?Dadwasright?”She’snotgoingtostopaskinguntilshegetsastraight

answer.

Rubbing my hands across my jeans, I shake my head. “What does it matter? Your dad is pissed

becauseIdidn’taskhispermission,likehewasgoingtogiveittome.He’shadavendettaagainstme
fromdayone.”

“Becauseyouwereadick.”
“Takesonetoknowone,Kimber.”
Sheflingsherhairbackandrollshereyes.“Whatever.WhenIfindMr.Right,ifheevenexists,

I’mnotbringinghimhome.I’llelopefirst.”

Ichuckle,upuntilIrealizehermomisstillbehindus,chokingonherdaughter’sconfession.
IraisetomyfeetandheadinthedirectionofwhereIlastsawBrice.It’sunnervingtoassumethis

willberesolvedwithashakeofhands,butI’moptimisticifanyonecankeepthepeaceforonenightit’s
Brice.

Ihearvoicesandknowrightawaywhatthey’retalkingabout.He’srehashingeverymistakeIever

madebeforeBricecameintomylife.He’stellingherI’mnogoodforher,andthataftersometimeshe’ll
beboredofherlittleproject.Apartofmewantstostormthroughthedoorandmakeascene,topleadmy
casetoamanwho’dratherbitchandmoanthanseehowgoodIamtohispreciousdaughter.

My feet remain where they are. The lids of my eyes shut while I absorb enough hate to knock

down the biggest of egos. It’s Christmas, not that it matters to this man. Any day is as good as ever to
bringmedown,oratleastattempt.

IhearthementionofBrice’sex,someonewenevertalkabout.She’dmethiminmedschool,and

they’ddatedforacoupleyears.Sure,they’dbeenserious,andforatimeIthinkshethoughtthey’dmarry
andhavealifetogether.Herfatherproceedstocomparemewithhim.StewartFriend.That’shisname.
He went off to work at a hospital in Salisbury Maryland, specializing in cancer patients. He’s an all
aroundgoodSamaritan,aphilanthropist,andprobablythemaneveryfatherwantsforhisdaughter.

Theproblemis,Bricedidn’twanthim.Hewasselfishandoftentookherforgranted.Hisfocus

wasonhiscareer,andshegottiredofbeingalone.

Bricehasneverbeensecondtome.Shemademeworkforeverymomentwespenttogether,and

evenwhenshewasdoingherbesttofixme,Iwasmakingherfeelwanted,neededeven.

Bricecatchesmeoffguardwhensheraiseshervoicetoherfather.“I’mtiredofhearingit,Dad.

I’mmarryingWestbecausehemakesmehappy.Helovesme,waymorethanSteweverdid.Youhaveto
stop this. You can’t keep trying to interfere with my decisions. I’m an adult. I have my own practice, a
home, and a life that provides me with security and enjoyment. If you can’t accept that, then I think it’s
best if I stopped coming over for family nights and holidays. West’s family would be happy to see us
more,andfrankly,they’realoteasiertobearound.”

“I’mnotapologizingtothatdelinquent.”
“I’ll let mom know we won’t be staying for dinner. Your present is under the tree, and before I

forget,you’regoingtobegrandfather.Congratulations.Ifyouneedtotalktosomeoneaboutyourfeelings

I’drecommendfindinganothershrinkontheisland.”

Shestormspastme,takingmebythearmatthelastminute.Herdadiscallingherbackintohis

office, yet she continues heading in the direction of the kitchen. We find her mom and sister have been
listening.Bricestopsinfrontofthem.Hereyesarefulloftearsandshe’sshakingasIgripherhand.“I’m
sorryaboutthis.Enoughisenough.Ihaveababytothinkaboutnow.WestandIaregoingtobeafamily,
andIwon’tstandforthis.IfherefusestosupportmeI’llhavenochoicebuttoavoidhim.”

Hermotheriscuppingherhead,perhapstosomehowerasewhatshe’shearing.Shestopstopull

Briceintoahug.“I’msorry,sweetie.Idon’twantthistohappen.Pleasedon’tgo.Nottoday.Wecanget
throughthis.”

“I know you didn’t want this, but he’s made it abundantly clear. I need to surround myself with

positivity.Iwanttohaveahealthypregnancy.”

“Honey,pleasedon’tleave.Wecanworkthisout.”
“Icandealwithit,”Iremindher.Obviouslyshedidn’twantmetocutintotheirconversation,but

Briceisright.We’dbothhadenoughofthisbullshit.

“No.”Briceshakesherhead.She’sfuriousandbrokenheartedatthesametime.“It’sunfairforme

towantyoutodealwiththisnegativity,West.Iftheywanttovisittheycancometoourhouse,andI’llbe
damnedifyou’redisrespectedunderourownroof.”

“Youhavepresents,Brice,”hermomremindsus.
“Youdotoo.We’llopenthemlater,whenthingssettledown.FornowIneedtogetoutofhere.I

don’twanttosaythingsIdon’tmean,especiallytoyou.You’reinthemiddleandit’snotsomethingIwant
tohappen.”Hervoiceiscracking.It’sonlyamatteroftimebeforeshereallylosesit.Iletgoofherhand,
grabourjacketsandwrapBrice'saroundherbackwithoutbeingasked.

In a matter of seconds we’re sauntering toward the front door, her mom begging behind us, all

whilethey’rebothintears.It’suglyandsad.It’stortureknowingthisisbreakingBrice’sheartandI’mthe
reason.

ThelastfaceIseeisKimber.She’samusedbyallofthis,butdoesn’toffercomforttohercrying

mother.Insteadshestandswatching.Iloatheher.

Chapter5
Weston

Theshortridehomedoesn’tprovidesolace.She’scryingintheseatoppositetomine,bawling,

and I don’t know what I can say to make it better. She’s the one who knows how to comfort. Besides,
anythingIdoofferwillonlybetakenthewayshewantstohearitatthetime.

Reaching over to take her hand into mine, I finally get a glimpse of her distraught face. The

makeupisrunningdownhersoftcheeks,andherprettyeyesareredandburdened.

“I’msorry,Brice.”
Icantellthisupsetshermore.“Don’tbe.Ifyoulovemeyouwon’teverbesorryforit.He’sbuilt

thishateupforentirelytoolong,andnowourrelationshipwillneverbethesame.”

“Oncethebabycomeshe’llsettledown.”
“That’sforthewrongreasons,West.Iwanthimtoshareinthisjourney,notcomearoundbecause

hefeelsobligated.Thisvendettahehasagainstyouisuncalledfor.You’reagoodman.Ifhecan’tseethat
thenit’shisloss.

Shesqueezesherhold.“We’reateam.Allornothingfromnowon.”
“I’lldowhateveryouwant,butIhatethatyou’reupset.”
“I’llgetoverit.It’snotlikeIdidn’tknowitwouldturnoutlikethis.Ishouldhaveknown.”
“Baby,Ihatethatit’sChristmasandyou’resad.Youcriedlastyeartoo.”
“Icriedbecausemyfatherisanasshole.Hethinkshecanliveabovethelaw.Hehadnorightto

haveyoucheckedout,andtojudgeyouforyourpasttoadd.I’mdone.I’moverit.Myfeelingsarealittle
hurt,buthe’sanarcissisticjerk.”

“Don’tholdback,love.Tellitlikeitis,”IsayinmybestBritishaccent.
Shesmiles.“Sorrytovent.”
Iletgoofherhandandrunmyfingersthroughthesideofherhair.“Youcanventtomewhenever

youwant.IjustwishIwasabetterpersonbefore,soyoucouldhavethesupportofyourfamily.”

Shesnifflesandwipesherface.“It’snottoolatetograbthepresentsandheadovertoyourdad’s

house.I’msurethey’dbehappytoseeus.”

“You sure you’re up to it?” Unlike her crew, my family is loud and obnoxious. We argue about

stupidshitjustforsomethingtodo.It’sahotmesstoapersonwhomadeacareeroutoffixingpeopleand
relationships.

“Of course. I owe your dad a big hug for fixing the lights the other day when you were still

oystering.HecamerightoverandhadmeupandrunningbeforeIhadtocancelmyappointments.”

“Becausehelovesyou.Hethinksyou’remyangel.”

This causes Brice to laugh. “Give me a break, West. I’m a doctor. It’s my job to help people.

There’snothingangelicaboutit.”

“Giveyourselfcreditwhereit’sdue.You’reafabulousperson,whohappenstobetheloveofmy

life.Don’tforgetthat.”

Wespendtherestofthenightinthecompanyofmyfamily.Daneistheonlypersonwholeaves

followingdinner,becausehe’smadeotherplansfortheevening.

Unlikethebattlewegotintowithherparentsregardingournews,myfamilycelebratesandmakes

Brice feel wanted. I’m honestly surprised Brant kept the secret. One that big was sure to force him to
burstattheseams,buttheyallseemedprettyshockedaboutthebaby.We’dwantedtowait,butnowI’m
gladwedidn’t.Briceneedstoknowwehavesupport.Sheneedstoknowshe’slovedandthatourbabyis
ablessing,andnotabaddecision.

Later,weallplayagamewhereyouattachacardtoyourforeheadandthepeoplearoundyougive

cluestowhichyouhavetoguesstorevealthecard.It’sloudandunorganized,butBricehasablast.When
it’stimetogohomeshe’ssettleddown.Hersmilehasreturned,andIknowshe’sabletobreathealittle
easierinthecompanyofmydadandAlice.Evenmysisteroffersherabigcongratulatoryhug,andBristol
usuallydoesn’tgiveashitaboutanythingbesidesherselforanimals.

When we arrive home, she’s nestled up beside me, almost disappointed that we have to part. I

unload the gifts from the back and carry them in to find she’s already changing out of her nice clothes.
She’sstrippedtoherunderwearandsitsontheedgeofthebed.GentlesnifflesfilltheroomasIenter.
Kneelingdowninfrontofher,Iplacemyhandsonherthighs.“What’sup?”

“Justcheckedmyphone.Morerantingfrommydad.Ishouldhaveknownbetter.”
“I’llgetuptomorrowandgohaveatalkwithhim,mantoman.Iwon’tletthiscontinue.Hecan’t

dictateourdecisions,andIwon’tlethimtreatyouthisway.”

“Idon’texpectyoutogetinvolved,West.”
“It’sadonedeal,babe.”
“Can you promise me you’ll wait until after the new year? Can we just enjoy the next week off

fromeverything?We’llgotoSalisburyanddosomeshopping,thenmaybecatchamovieandhavedinner.
Wecanstayhomeandwatchmovies,takingnapsandeatingforsevenwholedays.We’llpretendlifeis
perfect and live in a bubble until we can ring in the new year. I’m not optimistic one talk will solve
anything,butifyoucanwaituntilnextweekmaybeitwillbeeasierforeveryonetobeabletohandle.”

Isimplykissherhandandsmile.“I’lldowhateveryouthinkisbest.”
“Iknow.Forwhatit’sworth,I’msorryit’sdifficult.He’sdoesn’tknowthewonderfulmanyou

are,West.Hewon’tallowhimselftoadmithe’swrong.”

“YourloveisallIneed,Brice.AslongasIhaveyouIdon’tneedtoworryaboutanythingelse.”
Bricefallsbackonthemattressofourbedandletsoutasighofrelief.“It’sbeenacrazyday.”
I follow her lead until my back hits the blankets. “It’s been a crazy couple of days. Marriage.

Kids.I’mstilltryingtowrapmyheadaroundit.”

Sheleansuponherelbowsandsmilesatme.“It’sreal.I’mwearingaverybeautifulringtoprove

it.”Shedragsherfingersacrossmycheekwhilestaringdeeplyintomyeyes.“Youwereworththewait,
doyouknowthat?”

“Itnevergetsoldhearingit.”
“DidyougeteverythingyouwantedforChristmasthisyear,West?”
Ishrugandleanonmyside.“TherewasonethingIdidn’tget.”Wekissslowlybeforeshepulls

backandsnickers.

“Onething,huh?”Shestandsandbacksawayfromthebed,unfasteningherbraanddroppingitto

the floor. Next to go are her panties, leaving her naked like a work of art. “Oh what’s this,” she offers

withaornerysneer.“IthinkthereissomethingspecialIforgottogiveyouthismorning.”

WhenBriceclimbsontopofmeit’sagamechanger.Theseriousconversationhasbeenpushed

aside for something we both seem to need more. Comfort. Physical connection. Passion. It’s like an
aphrodisiacforthesoul.

Her hands pin mine to the sheets as her striking attributes hover over me. Those puffy lips dip

down,crashingintoakissthatleavesusbothbreathless.I'mfullyvestedinthisencounter,andforsome
reasonitseemsmoreintense.Ourtonguesmingleafamiliarpatternwhilemyhandsexplorethesoftskin
aroundherhips.Herpeachyskinreactstomytouch,goosepimplesleavingatrailofwhereI'vebeen.A
kneecomesupandbrushesagainstmypantsacrossmygroin.It'sonlynaturalitwouldbringanimmediate
erection. I grope the round curves of her ass, squeezing the cheeks and pulling her body to grind over
mine.MorethananythingIneedtobeskinonskin.

Alightpushcauseshertoslideoffofme.Notwastingtime,Iunbuttonmypantsandshovethem

downtomyankles,myboxerscomedownwiththem.Mycockspringstolife,standingatattentionbefore
I'mabletoclimbbackonthebed.

Briceistooimportanttorushthis.Sheneedstobetakencareofineveryway.Takingoneofher

ankles into my hand, I kiss my way up her thigh. When I reach the back of her knee, while her leg
straightensintheair,shesquirmslikeittickles.Mymouthcoursesoverthefrontandupward,untilI'mat
theinnerpartofherthighwithherpussystaringmeintheface.

BythispointI'mwrithingwithanticipation,butkeepmyfocusonthetaskathand.Movingtothe

oppositethigh,mytonguelicksuntilitmeetstheskinatthebaseofherscrumptiouslips.Atinypatchof
hairsitsabove,almostshapedinanarrowpointingdowntoherprize.

Oureyesconnectandit'simpossibletoresistasmile.I'mtooeagertopleasethiswomantoact

likethiswon'tpleasemejustasmuch."Liebackandrelax,babe.I'lldoalltheworktonight.It'smyturn
totakecareofyou."

Focused,myhandstrailthedistanceofherlegsuntilthey'regrippingherplumpass.Sheliftsso

I'm able to get a better hold. I yank her down until they're hanging off the mattress. Without asking, she
spreadsthemapartforme,herarmscomingupandrestingflatlyaboveherhead.

Icoulddothisallday.Bringingherpleasuredoesjustasmuchforme.I'mrockhard,butabstain

frommyownneedstoensureshehasaperfectexperience.

Mytonguenarrowsinontheprize,hertinybudthatsitspatientlywaiting.TheattentionI'mabout

to provide will send her into a grateful frenzy. I start slow, working in circles until her soft moans are
almost cries. Her body begins to quake. The muscles in her ass tighten. She's squeaking and gripping
chunksofmyhair.Thenithappens.She'scomingundoneandit'sabeautifulsighttowatch.EvenafterI
venturelower,lickingtheremnantsmysuccess.BricebucksafewmoretimesbeforeIdragmywetlips
upher abdomen. Takingmy time, Ikiss around her bellybutton, cupping bothbreasts and watching her
react.Pinchingthemgetsanotherjolt,soIrepeatitafewmoretimes,enjoyingeachquake.

IfeelconnectedtoherinawayI'veneverknown.Iknoweverypartofherjustassheknowsme.I

couldnevertireofthis,ofbeingwithherfortherestofourlives.

I reach those matching mounds and savor each one, sucking them into my mouth and biting the

nipplesuntilshewrithes.WhenIfreeoneIgrabtheother,overandoveragain.NextItrekaroundher
neck,onlystoppingtonibbleoneachearlobe.She'sfightingforakiss,butIwon'teasilybedistracted.
Concentrationisthekeytobreakingherrepeatedly.Myrighthanddrivesdownuntilitreachesherwarm,
wetpussy.Remnantsofherflavorstilllingeronmyface.Ilickmylipsandclosemyeyes,remembering
theecstasyI'vejustgivenher.

Ournextkissisapreludetowhat’scoming.Briceflipsusoverbylockingherlegsaroundmine

and using her might to overtake my weight above her. Once she’s hovering above, her lips lower and

crash over mine like she’s starved for a kiss. The more intense the encounter becomes, the more
animalisticbehaviorsheexudes.She’sgrindingherpussyovermyerection,andnoteasilytospareme
discomfort.She’sreadyformetobeinsideofher,andwithoutwordsit’sapparent.Herpracticedhand
mapsacourseuntilit’sgrippingmyshaft.I’minside.It’slikethestressofthedayisimmediatelyerased
the moment this happens. She moves slowly at first, her natural juices lubricating her tight walls. I’m
underherspellanditfeelsfantastic.

Brice runs her hands through her hair. It’s blissful to watch her in motion, seeing her natural

rhythmportrayedinastory.Shedancesaboveme,rockingherbodyinagrooveuntilherpacebecomes
unhinged. Now she’s riding me like I’m a raging bull. The skin between her breasts sweats, beads
tricklingdowntoherabdomen.Icatchaglimpseofherstomachmuscleswhensheleansbackandreally
getsgoing.Inthispositioneverythingfeelstight.Shebringingmetotheedge,knowingI’llbeunableto
withstandfromlosingit.

Herbreastsbouncearoundoppositethewayherhipsstride.I’mfallingapart,grippingherassin

order to slow her down, but it’s impossible. She’s on a mission and there’s not a damn thing I can do
aboutit.I’mcrumbling.InamatterofsecondsmybodytakesoverandItighten.She’sbuckingagainstme,
knowingexactlywhatshe’sdoingtome.Myclimaxcripplesme,finallycausingeveryinchtogolimp.

Afterwards we face each other, my hands tracing patterns on the exposed parts of her back. “It

doesn’tgetanybetterthanthis,doesit?”Iask.

“Youcansaythatagain.”
So I do. “It doesn’t get any better than this,” I say while leaning forward to kiss her. “Love ya,

babe.”

“Rightbackatcha,”shematcheswithataptothetipofmynose.“There’snoplaceelseI’drather

bethanrightherewithyoufortherestofmylife.”

“I’mgoingtoholdyoutothat,Mrs.FutureWestonWallace.”
Shesnickers.“Youbetter.”
Alldramawithherdadaside,Iknowthisisright.Wehavemuchtolookforwardto,andnothing

willstandinourwayaslongasweremainonthesamepage,whichIknowwon’tbeaproblem.

Chapter6
Weston

TheweekafterChristmasisusuallythemostboring,butbeneficial.Wetakeoffofwork.Evenmy

dad’srestaurantoperatesonholidayhours.Athreehourbreakfastshiftinthemorningsandthenclosed
afterwards.TheyhaveaNewYearsEvedinnerthatweallhavetocontributeto,butit’ssortofatradition
thatwe’retogether,sowedon’tminditmuch.Lastyearitconsistedofmywholefamilyandthenafew
localresidentswe’veknownforever.

Thisyear’scelebratingisgoingtobeabitdifferent.SinceBriceispregnant,I’vebeengiventhe

go-aheadtodrink,whichmeansIhaveabeautiful,caring,designateddrivertomakesureIgethomein
onepiece.Iofferedtostayathomeforaquietnight,butBriceinsisted.EvenwhenIaskedifshewanted
metohaveasoberevening,sherefused.TheplanistotakeitslowsothatI’mnotaburden.Iwantherto
haveagoodtimeeventhoughshewon’tgettohavethetraditionalshotatthestrokeofmidnight.

Afterbeinginavegetatedstateforthepastweek,whereweliterallylaidaroundbingewatching

television and movies until we’d pass out, emptying the cabinets of every snack possible, and doing a
whole lot of nothing else, we are ready for a night out and a nice meal that doesn’t consist of canned
anything.

I enjoy cooking, but we hadn’t gone grocery shopping, and neither of us wanted to step foot

outside,especiallysinceit’sbeenrainingonanoffforthepastsevendays.

Allmybrothershavearrivedwhenwewalkinthedoortotherestaurant.Thetwins,Caleband

Coop,aresuckingheliumfromaballoonandtalkingtoeachother,whiletwofemaleswatchasifthey’re
actually entertained. Obviously they’ve already started drinking, or else they wouldn’t think two grown
menactingimmatureisafuntime.Anotherofmysiblings,Dane,sitsinaboothwithhisarmarounda
familiar blonde. He offers a wave, but is too invested in his own conversation to move from that spot.
Bristol and my step-brother Chris are arguing about something behind the counter. She pulls and object
from his grasp and hurries away. It only takes me a few seconds to notice it’s a cell phone, one that’s
bedazzled, which means it’s probably hers. They like to hack each other, posting random statements on
eachother’spagestocauseafuss.Chrisusuallydoesabetterjob,andinthiscasehe’sdefinitelymade
hermad.

Brant and Jamie approach us, leaving my dad and Alice to a few neighbors that sit with them.

Afteraquickshake,BrantandJamiebothhugBrice.

“Howareyoufeelingtoday?”Jamieasks.
Wehaven’tseenthemthiswholeweek,choosingtospendalonetimetogetherthaninviteanother

coupletocomeover.They’reusuallytheonlypeoplewehangoutwith,butfromthelookonmybrother’s

faceI’dsayhe’sbeendoingthesamething.Jamieisallsmiles,andhecan’tkeephiseyesoffher.

Inudgehim.“Iknowthefeeling,bro.Whatshowsdidyoubingethisweek?”
“We’reallcaughtuponGameofThronesandShameless.Thenwewatchedpornandfuckedlike

rabbits.”Helaughsathisowncomment.

“Ifthat’snotajokeIdon’twanttoheardetails.Keepthatshittoyourself.”
Jamieoffershertwo-cents.“Ifyourbrotheriswatchingporn,he’sdoingitonthetoilet.Contrary

tohissenseofhumor,I’veneverbeeninterestedinwatchingabunchofpeoplepretending.”Shecupsa
chunkofhisass.“IhappentolikethemanI’vegottoomuch.He’sprettyfreakingawesome.”

Ipretendtogag,onlytogetariseoutofmybrother.“Don’teven,bro,”hestarts.“Likeyouhave

any room to talk. You’ve been obsessed with Brice for years.” He’s right. I throw my hands in the air.
“Guilty as charged.” She walks over and I loop my arm around her waist and pull her close. “I’m her
bitch.Sheknowsit.”

Bricerollshereyesbutmanagesasmile.“What’sheoverheretellingyou?”
“Nothingbutgoodthings,”Jamieassures.
Shepatsmychestwiththepalmofherhand.“Hebetter.Ifheknowswhat’sgoodforhim.”
“Ido,babe.Trustme.Nocomplaintshere.”
“Exceptforyourdad,”Brantinterjects.
Shakingmyhead,IsimplybuttonmytrapandseeifBricefeelsoffended.Ican’tliemywayoutof

it.SheknowsmorethananyonehowIfeelaboutherfather.

“OnedaymydadisgoingtobesorryfortreatingWestthewayhedoes.I’mnotrealsurewhenit

willhappen,butmarkmywords,itwill.”Shestrokesthesideofmyface.“Isn’tthatright,dearfatherof
mychild?”

I kiss her lightly and then take her into my arms and swing her around a bit. “Hook, line, and

sinker.I’myoursforever.”

Sheplayfullyslapsmeonthecheek.“SweetTalker.Thatshouldbeyourpilotname.”
Istraightenandlaughitoff.“Mywhat?”
“Your pilot name. Like Maverick, but more badass and less sex appeal. I wouldn’t want

competitionwiththeotherladies.”

I’mflabbergasted.“Whatinthehellareyoutalkingabout?”
She comes up and kisses me with as much enthusiasm as a twenty year convict sees in his first

femaleencounter.I’mtakenback,butgowithit,notevencaringwhocouldbewatching.Whenshepulls
away,shesnickers.“I’llshowyoulater,orbetteryet,you’llbeshowingme.YoucanbethepilotandI’ll
beyourpersonalstewardess.”

Mybrowsraise.“Wecanleaverightnow.Thesefoolsaren’tthatimportant.”
“Goodthingscometothosewhowait,SweetTalker.”
“Okay,”itcomesoutwithaguffaw.“I’llbewhateveryouwantifitrequiresustobenaked.I’ll

fuckyouuntilnextFridayandthenacrossthewholedamnweekend.”

“You’reaweirdo.”
Ismackherass.“Youloveit.Shutyourprettylittlepiehole.”
“Youtooarepathetic,”Brantinterrupts.“Seriously,getaroom,oratleastgointheback.Youdo

knowmarriedpeopleneverhavesex,right?”

Jamiesnickers,whileIconsiderthepossibility.“Yeahright.Mywomanisanymphomaniac.She

knowsit’smedicallyhealthytofornicateatleastthreetimesaday.”

“Fornicate?”Jamiecan’tcontainheramusement.“Youareridiculous.OnthatnoteIneedanother

soda.”

Thegirlsgoofftomingleagain,whileIheadoverandjoinmydadandAlice.Theircompanyis

offtalkingtosomeotherlocalsnow,leavingthemavailabletochatwith.“Howarethegrandparentsto

be?”Iask.

Dadshakeshisheadwithabigoldsmileacrosshisface.“Youknow,IneverthoughtI’dsaythis,

butI’mexcited.IwasjusttellingAlicehowgreatit’sgoingtobetohavelittleonesinthehouseagain.”

“YourdadandIcan’twaittobabysit.Hethinksthereisallsortsofbabythingsintheattic.”
“That’s pretty damn cool. I’m excited. Hell, I’m even looking forward to talking to her dad

tomorrow. I’ll make that dickhead see I’m the man for his daughter. I’ll prove my worth if it’s the last
damnthingIdo.”

Dadoffersabitofadvice.“Youdon’tneedhisapprovaltoknowyou’reagoodman,Weston.I’m

proudofyou,andBriceadoresyou.Don’tletthatSOBruinthesefirstyears.They’retheimportantones
you’llneverforget.”

“Thanks,Dad.”

The music is playing over the sound of the television, which are all tuned to the same channel

hostingtheballdrop.Withtheamountofpeopleintherestaurant,it'shardtostayinoneplace.Wemingle
aroundtheonlystipulationbeingthateverytimesomeonementionstheyearweallhavetodrink,minus
BriceandJamiewhohavebothoptedoutofconsumingalcohol.

AcouplehoursgobyandmuchtooursurprisethemediatalksabouttheYearwaymorethanwe

originally anticipated. I'm knocked off my ass, and it's possible I won't last till midnight. I'm certainly
lookingforwardtoclimbinginbedandclosingmyeyes.

Thepartygetsabitrowdy.Dadtakesthetwin’skeysandmakessureJamieisdrivingBranthome.

Dane doesn’t stay the whole time as usual. He and his date duck out around eleven saying they have
another party to attend. Bristol and Chris have a few friends stop by, so they’ve been hanging out with
themforthepastfewhours.

It’sfiveminutestomidnightandIseeBriceyawning.She’stired,andeveninmydrunkenstateI

cantellshe’dratherbehomeinbed.Iwavegoodbyetomyfamily,optingtoskipoutbeforetheballdrops
so we can be alone. Brice doesn’t argue. We’re no sooner in the car when the radio disc jockey starts
counting down. Halfway out of the parking lot she stops the car and throws it into park. “Happy New
Year,West.It’sgoingtobeagoodone.”

“Aslongasyou’rebymysideIknowitwill.”
Ourkissislongandfullofpassion.Iknowwe’renotgoingtobedwhenwearriveatthehouse,

and it excites every part of me. This is what I want. Tomorrow can wait, or technically it’s already
tomorrow,butatleastthereisasleepinbetween.Mylifeisset.AllIneedtodonowisconvinceher
assholefatherthatI’mitforhisdaughter.Thenitwillbeperfect.

Chapter7
Weston


It’sthemiddleofthenight,andthesoundofrainmakesaconstanttappingagainstthemetalporch

roofnexttothebedroomwindow.I’mnotsurehowlongwe’vebeensleeping,mepassedout,butIknow
Iwasdreamingaboutalittlebabygirlwithbigdimplesandcurlyhair.Isitup,wipemyeyesandlistento
Briceanswerherphone.

Iwonderifwe’vejustarrivedanditonlyseemslikewe’vebeenhereawhile.Perhapsweleft

somethingattherestaurant,ormaybesomeonehadcartroubleafterwepulledaway.We’recloseenough
whereit’sapossibility.

Myheadstartstopound,tellingmeIeitherneedtoclosemyeyesagain,orgetuptofindmedicine

toeasethepain.

Briceseesmesittingupandimmediatelyleavestheroom.She’sonlywearingapairofpanties,

whichtellsmeweprobablyhadsexwhenwearrived.Everythingisfoggy.Maybeit’smorning.Aquick
investigationofthewindowandittellsmeit’sdarkout.

Iwondertheprobabilitythatthere’sanemergency.Isitmyfamily?Hers?Mycuriositycausesme

tojumpfromthebedandseekoutmyequallytiredfiancée.

Inthekitchenleaningagainstthebreakfastisland,she’sarguingwithsomeone.Myonlythoughtis

Kimber. She wouldn’t call my family immature to their face. Ok, I take that back. She’d definitely tell
CalebandCoopwheretogo.Standingnexttoherwithmyarmscrossed,Iwaitforanexplanationasto
why she’s so distraught. The conversation only lasts a few more seconds. Brice sits her phone on the
quartzcounterandsighs,leaningagainstthehardsurfaceforsupport.“SorryIwokeyou,babe.Youcan
gobacktobed.”

Touchinghershoulderisenoughtogethertofallagainstmychest.“What’sgoingon?”
“Justmysister.She’satapartyandwantedtoknowifshecouldcrashhere.”
“Didyoutellhertostayputifshe’sdrinking?”
“Didn’tyouhearwhatIsaid?Shewantstocomehere.”
“Ididn’theareverything.”Ibackawayandwipemyfacewithmyhands.“TobehonestI’mstill

pretty fucked up.” When I grab her phone and look at the screen I can see why. It’s only one. We’ve
literallybeenhomeforaboutanhour,andthere’snowaythealcoholhashadtimetoworkit’swayfrom
mybloodstream.“Youcomingbacktobed?”Isaywhilepullingheralong.

Shejerksaway,butcasually,asifshestillneedsasecondtocalmdown.“Bethereinaminute.

I’mgoingtograbsomewater.”

Ikissthetopofherheadandsnickerbeforeleavingtheroom.“Cuddlesawait!”It’sthelastthingI

saybeforeIhitthemattressandgetlostinamuchneededslumber.

Unfortunatelythedreamofmyunbornchilddoesn’treturn.ThenexttimeIwakethesunisbright

illuminatingthebedroom.Iwipemyfaceandpatthespotbesideme,discoveringit’sempty.It’snoteven
remotelywarm.MyfirstthoughtisthatIsnoredsoloudfromdrinkingthatIliterallyforcedherintothe
guestroom.Taking my time,I stretch thenproceed to the bathroomto relieve myself.While I’m there, I
brushmyteeth,becauseit’shardertoapologizeforbadmannerswithassbreath.Myhairisaneasyfix.A
littlewatertamesthebeast.Forsomeonewhocanonlyrememberpartofthepreviousnight,I’mnottoo
shabby.

Before venturing out to most likely wake Brice, I check my phone for messages, and peruse

through the slew of ridiculous photographs that I apparently captured at the New Year’s Eve party. At
leastBriceissmilinginmostofthem.Theothersshe’smakingsillyfacesandbeingthehappywomanI
love dearly. I’m just hoping she’s not too disturbed with me, or that I may have said something
inappropriatetowarranthersleepinginanotherroom.

ThefirstthingInoticeisthatthetelevisionisn’ton.Ichecktheguestroomandithasn’tbeenslept

in.Thenmyeyesscanthewallwherewehangourcoatsandkeys.Hersaregone.

Iopentherefrigeratorandchecktoseeifwe’reoutofcreamerorsomethingshe’dwanttopickup

spur of the moment. We may be out of most items, but there’s still stuff for breakfast and nearly a half
bottleofvanillaflavorednon-dairycreamer.

InsteadofwonderingifIsaidsomethingunforgiveable,Idialhernumberandhearsomethingfaint

comingfromthebedroom.She’sforgottentotakeitwithher.It’svibratedoffthenightstandandontothe
floor.Ipickitupandseethatshe’sgottenquiteafewmessages.TheoldestonesarefromKimber,sent
betweenoneandtwo.She’saskinghertocomegether.There’snoresponsefromBrice,butI’mbeginning
toassumethatshelefthoursago,whichmakesmeworried.QuicklyIdialthenumberbackandwaitfor
her to pick up and start explaining why Brice isn’t home yet. Knowing Kimber, she conned Brice into
gettingherahotelroomtosoberupin,endeduppuking,andmadeBricefeellikeshehadtostaytohelp.
Itwouldn’tbethefirsttime.

Thecellphoneringsuntilthevoicemailpicksup.Justhearinghertalkingmakesthehairstandup

on my arms. I’m so pissed I decide to leave a message threatening her. “Answer the fucking phone,
Kimber.I’mworriedaboutBrice.Havehercallmeifyou’restilltogether.”

I try to call again, and then a third time, but it continues to send me to the voicemail. Assuming

she’sprobablyatherparent’shouse,becauseshewastootiredtomakeitanyfurther,Idressandprepare
toheadover.I’mstilltryingtoreachKimberwhenIpullupatthehousefindingneitheroftheircarsinthe
driveway,infact,therearen’tanycarsparkedatthehouse,noteventheasshole’sBMW.

IrunuptothefrontdooranddecideIhavetoatleastseeifanyoneishome.Maybehe’smanaged

tocleanoutthegarageenoughtofittwocarsinsideinsteadofone.Maybeoneisintheshop.Therehasto
beanexplanationastowhy,thisearlyinthemorning,nooneispickinguptheirphonesorhome.

Ibeatonthedoorforafewminutesandnoonecomes.Backinmytruck,I’monthephoneagain,

thistimecallingBrice’smother.HerdadwillbealastresortifIcan’tgetthrough.

Threeringsandthenafemalepicksup.“Hello?”
Thisvoiceisn’tsomeoneI’mfamiliarwith.IevenlookdowntocheckandmakesureI’vedialed

therightperson.“IsKathythere?”

“I’msorry,mayIaskwhothisis?”
“It’sWest.I’mherdaughter’sfiancée.”
“Youhaven’theard?”There’sshufflingontheotherendonthephoneasifthepersonI’mspeaking

toiswalkingaround.

“Heardwhat?Didsomethinghappen?IsKathyokay?”Icanonlyassumesomethinghappenedand

everyoneisatthehospital.She’sbeencomplainingthatsomethingiswrongwithherstomach,butBrice
saiditwasnothingbutacaseofgas.

Thiswomanislouderandmoreclearwhensheresponds.“I’msorry,butthere’sbeenanaccident.

It’sbestifyougethereassoonasyou’reableto.”

“Accident.Whatkindofaccident?IsBricethere?CanItalktoher?Sheleftherphoneathome.”
“We’re at Peninsula Regional. That’s all I can say right now.” She hangs up abruptly, causing

alarm to my already concerned mind. I’m freaking out as I tear down the road and try to head off the
island. The hospital is nearly an hour away. I don’t have time to waste. For whatever reason Brice
couldn’ttalktome.IstarttowonderifKimbergotintoanaccidentandthat’swhythey’reallunreachable.
Sheprobablydidn’twaitaroundforBricetocometoherrescue.It’sgoingtobeterribleforherifshe
wastheonetopullupontheaccident.I’mworriedandlosttheentiretimeI’mdriving.I’mmakingphone
calls,hopingmylocalcopfriendscanshedsomelightonvehiclecollisionsthathappenedbetweenthe
timesI’massumingthismayhaveoccurred.

I think about Brice, and how she’s not spoken to her parents since the argument on Christmas.

They’re going to frown upon me showing up, but I don’t care. When I put that ring on her finger I was
promisingtostickbyhernomatterhowterribleherfamilytreatsme.They’renotmyconcern.Ihavea
futurewifeandchildtofocuson.

Chapter8
Weston


WorryripsthroughmeasIconsidereverypossiblescenario,allbad.Whatifsomethinghappened

toKimber;somethingterrible,likeanaccidentthattookherlife.WhatifBricehadtodealwiththelossof
heronlysister?Whatwoulditdotoheremotionally?Wouldthatmuchstressbebadforthebaby?Would
sheeverbeabletorecoverfromsomethingsolifechanging?Myheartbreaksforthefamily,soIsaya
silentprayerwhilesteppingonthegasassoonasmytruckmakesitouttothemainhighwaythatwilltake
metoSalisbury.I’matthemercyoftheroadnow,andthecloserIgettothehospital,themoreIfigureI
should have heard something from Brice by now. It has to be bad if she hasn’t been able to borrow a
phonetocheckin,ormaybeshestillthinksI’msleepingoffahangover.Icanonlyhopethat’sthecase,
because thinking of other reasons leaves my heart a tattered mess. Hospitals remind me of my mom. I
don’tknowwhy.It’sbeenyears,buttheyalwaysdo.FormetherewillalwaysbeagravefeelingwhenI
stepinside.Iknowthey’retheretosavepeople,butinmyexperiencethehospitalwasthelastplaceto
holdmymom’sbeatingheart.IknowIcan’tblamethebuilding,oreventhecountlessdoctorswhodid
everythingtheycouldtoprolongherlife.ButIdo.I’vealwaysneededsomethingtoblamefortalkingher.
ForawhileIthoughtitwasGod,butMomwastoofaithfultobeabletorestinperpetualpeaceifanyof
uskidsgaveuponourfaith.ThankGodBricesavedme.Agnosticwaslookinglikeagoodideauntilshe
set me straight, showing me the light again and making me want to appreciate every day I have on this
beautifulearth.Thereareplentyofuglythingsinthisworld,butjustasmanymiracles,youjustneedto
knowwheretolook.

Ifindaparkingspotafterdrivingthroughthegaragethreetimes.Onthefourthlevel,Irundown

the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. The emergency department is straight out the doors, and I
suckinadeepbreathofcoldwinterairbeforemakingabeelineforit.IenterlikeabatoutofHell,only
tobemetwithacasualwelcomefromthereceptionist.“CanIhelpyousir?Doyouneedtobeseen?”

I’malreadysearchingtheareaforsomeoneIrecognize,mostimportantlyBrice.WhenIfail,Igive

myattentiontotheyoungblondefemaleandsayalastname.“Carpenter.ProbablyKimber.”

“Gotcha.ItlookslikeMissCarpenterhasbeentransferredtoanupstairsroom.Areyoufamily?”
Inod.“Yeah.I’mherbrother-in-law.”I’mnotgettingintotechnicalities.RightnowIneedtofind

Brice.

Shefillsoutavisitor’sbadgeandgivesmedirectionstogettothenearestelevators.Muchlike

when I entered the emergency room, I find the nearest person sitting at a station and start there.
“Carpenter.Canyoutellmehowtogettothisroom?”IholdupmybadgethatdisplaysthepersonI’m

theretosee.

Themanpointstohisright.“Thirddoordown.”
I’mtryingnottorun.It’smorelikeabriskwalkwherebeadsofsweatrundownthesidesofmy

face.MywholebodyshakeswhenIgettothedoor.AdeepbreathsucksinasIpushforwardandenter.
Kimberturnswhenshehearsme.Hereyeswiden,andallIcandoisnoticethatshe’salone.Thisboggles
mymind.IcontemplatepassingBriceonthewayin,andmaybeImissedher.Maybeshe’stryingtocall
menow,butIdon’thavereception.I’malreadypullingoutmyphonewhenIhearKimber’svoicecalling
me.“West…”

She’smumbling,makingitimpossibleformetomakeoutthewords.Iapproachthebed.“What

thehelldidyoudotoyourselfnow?”

“I’msorry,”shesqueals.“Sosorry.”
“Don’tapologizetome.It’syournewcar.”
Evenundertheoxygentubes,Icanseeherfacecontortlikeshe’sconfused.“Brice,”shemanages.
“I’mlookingforhertoo.Howlongagowassheinhere?”
Hereyesfillwithtears,Kimber’slipsbegintotremble,butwordsfailtocome.Idon’tknowwhy

Ifeelobligated,butIreachmyhandoverandtakehers.“It’sgoingtobeokay.Yourparentswillgetover
it.”

IhearagaspandturntoseesomeoneIrecognize.It’sKathy’ssisterKaren.She’sholdingherhand

overhermouth,andit’sobviousshe’sbeencryingtoo.IquicklyletgoofKimber’shandandwalktoward
theolderwoman.“Thankgoodness.Ithoughtthatmighthavebeenyouonthephone.Whereiseveryone
else?DidyoutellBricetocallme?”

ShelooksovertoKimber,givesheraconcernedgrimace,andthenpullsmeoutoftheroom.Her

voice is in a broken whisper. “West, I’m sorry. I would have called sooner, but everything happened
prettyfast.IonlycamebecauseIknewIcouldgetheresoonerthanKathy.”

“Isitbad?DoesKimberneedanorgan?”
Her face crunches and she’s unable to continue speaking. I give her a second and watch as she

nods.“Yes,butthat’snotallofit.”

“Wellhowbadisit?She’sawake.Isn’tthatagoodsign?”
“West,it’sBrice.”
Irollmyeyes.“Don’ttellmeshewantstodonatetheorgan.Thatcan’thappen.She’spregnant.”
WhenoureyesmeetIstoptalking.There’ssomethingshe’snotsaying;somethingshe’safraidto

saytome.Itakeherbythearmsandforcehertospeak.“Please,justtellmewhat’sgoingonsoIcanfind
herandbethere.”

“She’sinintensivecare,West.I…Bricewasdriving.Theywerehitheadonbyadrunkdriveron

thewrongsideofthehighway.Bricetriedtoswerveandthecarlostcontrol.”

I leave the woman before she’s able to finish. This can’t be happening. Brice is injured. That’s

whyshedidn’tcallme.She’sunabletousethephone.She’sinintensivecare.I’vebeenwrongthiswhole
entiretime.Insteadofworryingaboutmyfiancée,I’vebeenthinkingitwasKimber.

Franticforanswers,IracetowardanurseassoonasI’mletintotherestrictedarea.“Carpenter.

Brice.”

“Areyoufamily?”
Inod.“Herfiancée.Please.Whatroomissheis?”
OutofthecornerofmyeyeIspottwopeopleI’drathernothavetodealwith.Kathyholdsawad

oftissuesinherhand.ShespotsmeheadingintheirdirectionandnudgesforPhillip.Hetakesonelookat
meandpincheshisfrownintothepositionI’musedtoseeing.BeforeIcanwalkpastthemhe’sblocking
thedoor.“I’mnotheretofight.IjustwanttoseeBrice.”

“Thedoctorisintherewithher.Youcan’tgoin.”

Istickmyhandsinmypocketsandtrytopeekthroughasmallwindow.Icanseemovement,but

nothingelse.“Pleasetellmewhatisgoingon.”

Kathybeginstosobinherhands.Heoffersherhishandonhershoulderandlooksinthedistance

asiftofighthisownemotions.“It’snotgood.Youshouldn’tbehere,West.”

Kathycorrectshim.“Hehasarighttobehere,Phillip.Thisisn’tthetimeorplace.”
NotthatI’dexpectanyless,butPhillipwalksawayfromusinsteadofbeingabletoexplain.Iturn

toKathywithlittlepatienceleft.“Please.Youhavetotellmewhat’sgoingon.Karentoldmetherewas
anaccidentandthatthecarlostcontrol.Shesaidtheywerehitbyadrunkdriver.”

Shenods.“Yes.Thedriverisheretoo.Thepolicejustleft.”
“I don’t care about that. Tell me about Brice. What’s going on? Karen said Kimber needs an

organ.Shewouldn’ttalkaboutBrice.”

She sniffles, but tries her best to explain. “The most damage was to the driver’s side of the

vehicle.Kimber had beendrinking, so Briceoffered to get themboth home safely.”She loses it before
she’sabletocontinue.“I’msorry,West.Justgivemeaminuteplease.”

Iplacemyhandonthewoman’sshoulderandshefallsagainstmychest.She’sfallingapartandas

frustratedasIfeelnotknowingallthedetails,myheartbreaksforher.Itmustbedifficultseeingbothof
yourchildreninthehospital.

“Brice suffered trauma to her head. She slammed into the side of the window upon impact, and

then was thrown against the windshield when the car began to roll. The paramedics stayed until we
arrived. They said Brice was in and out of consciousness at first. When they brought her in she was
unresponsive.”Shetremblesasshegoeson.“Theymanagedtobringherback,butshe’snotbreathingon
herown,West.She’sonaventilator.”

She backs away and places her hand on the small window. “My baby is in there and I can’t do

anythingtohelpher.Shenevershouldhavebeenonthatroad.Neitheroneofthemshouldbeinhere.”

Iholdontothebackofhershouldersandwatchthenursestalkingtothedoctor.Icanseewires,

butthey’reblockingBrice.“Whathavethedoctorssaid?”

ThedoctorwalksoutassoonasIask.Westanddirectlyinfrontofhimasheremoveshismask

andgetsrighttothepoint.“Yourdaughterhassufferedseveretraumatoherbrain.We’regoingtogointo
trytoalleviatesomeoftheswelling,butforrightnowshe’sunresponsive.”

“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“It means we have to wait and see. Some patients can recover, but others never regain

consciousness.Iknowit’snotthenewsyouwerehopingfor.We’regoingtodoeverythingwecantokeep
hercomfortableandhelpreducetheswellingaroundherbrain.”

Kathynods,butisunabletosayanythingelse.ThedoctorgetsafewstepsawaybeforeIstophim.

“Doctor,canIaskaboutthebaby?”

Heopensthechartandlooksaround.“Howfaralongwasshe?”
“EightweeksIthink.”
“HerHCGlevelsarereadinghigh,sothat’sagoodsign,butI’mgoingtobehonestwithyou.Miss

Carpenterhaslifethreateninginjuriesthataregoingtorequiresurgeryandalotofprayers.Evenifshe
doesn’tmiscarry,there’sagoodchancewe’llhavetoabort.Wecan’triskfurtherstrainonthebody.”

Inod,butonlybecauseIknowifIspeakI’llloseit.Thiscan’tbehappening.Isinkdowntothe

floorandholdmyhandsovermyface.AssadasIamaboutthebaby,IhavetoworryaboutBrice.

Chapter9
Weston


Philliphearsthenewsfromhiswifeandfinallycomesbackintotheroom.Beingthisclosetoher

isathousandtimesworse.Mostofherbodyisbandaged,especiallyherhead.Bloodhadseepedthrough
in some areas, causing me to cringe as I take in every visible inch of her. She’s hooked up to so many
machines,andI’mnotsurewhichoneiskeepingheralive,butI’mgrateful.Ihavehope.Withoutnothing
remains.Lookingatherinthiswayonlymakesithardertoimagineafullrecovery.Ihaven’tbeeninthe
sameroomwithPhillipwithoutsomekindofsmartcommentsinceI’veknownhim.Itonlyproveshow
serious this is. Refusing to look him in the eyes, I put all my focus on my fragile love. This can’t be
happening.It’slikeanightmareI’veyettowakeupfrom.

ThesoundofKathy’svoicestartlesme.“Hadsheseenadoctorforthepregnancy?”
Itfigures.Nowthat’sit’stoolateshewantstoknowabouthergrandchild.I’mtooweaktofight.

It’stakingeverythinginmetostayfocusandnotlosemyshitinfrontofthem.“Shetoldmethatnightatthe
lighthouse,afterIaskedhertomarryme.”IdragmyhandoverhersasIcontinue.It’shardthinkingabout
the possibility of her never waking up. “I didn’t know she’d missed a period. She never said anything.
WhenIaskedhertobemywifeshethoughtIsomehowstumbledonthesecretandfeltobligated.”

Ihearherfathermumblesomethingfrombehind,butrefusetotakemyeyesawayfromBrice.“I

swearIdidn’tknow.Itwasthebestsurpriseofmylife.Itwasbetterthananyacceptancetomarriage.We
weregoingtobeafamily.Westillcanbe,justaslongasshewakesup.”MynextsentenceisforBrice
andnotherparents.“Ineedyoutowakeup,babe.”

AssoonasIsayitanalarmgoesoffononeofhemonitors.Theroomfillswithnurses,andwe’re

being pushed out before the doctor makes it in. I watch in horror as they begin to wheel her out of the
room. They’re calling off medical terms and talking about taking her into emergency surgery. Not even
realizingI’mdoingit,myfeetfollowbehindthem,asifI’llbeabletostaybyhersidewhilethishappens.
Theyscan badges andwhisk the gurneythrough a security authorizeddoor, one nurseturning at the last
minutetopreventmefromgoinganyfurther.“Thisisrestricted,sir.Thedoctorwillcomeoutandtalkto
youwhenhecan.”

I watch her skirt through the double doors and know entering would only make a lot of people

mad.Turningaround,Icomefacetofacewithherconcernedparents.Thelookontheirfacesmakemy
fearworsen.

EngrossedinaperpetualstateofdespairIstandalongsidetwopeopleinthisworldwhonever

thought I was good enough. On this day we're all seemingly equals. Our hearts are heavy as we await

newsofanykind.

I pace. We all do. Karen brings hot coffee, but I only opt to hold mine, because a burning hand

remindsmethatthisisn'taterrifyingnightmare.

Theytalkamongsteachother,whileIfindonewindowoverlookingthehospitalparkinglot.It's

notthesceneryI'mfocusedon.It'smoretothepointofnotstaringatthedoubledoorsknowingshemight
nevercomebackoutagain.

Mystomachisinknots.Myheadpounds.There'saconstrictingtightnessinmythroatfromfighting

backtearsIrefusetoshed.

KarencomestostandbesidemewhileIwatchKathyandPhillipleavethearea."They'regoingto

checkonKimber.ItoldthemI'dcomedownandgetthemifwehaveanynews."

Inod."Mustbedifficultneedingtobeintwoplacesatonce."
"Thisisahorrornoparentwantstohavetodealwith."
"Kimber'scondition,isshestable?"
"Shereallyneedsakidney."
Iwipemyhairbackandthinkaboutthesetwogirlsfightingfortheirlives.Atthispointit'snot

aboutifeitherdeservethis.It'saboutprayingtoGodbothmakeitoutofthisalive.

"Brice didn't tell me she was leaving last night. I heard the phone call. Kimber must have been

asking for ride. When I woke up and discovered she wasn't home I thought they'd decided to stay
somewhereelse.Ineverthoughtforasecondthiscouldbehappening."

Envelopedwithworry,Karenreachesoverandtouchesmyarm."Noneofuswantstoassumethe

worst,West.WehavetokeepprayingthatGodwillprovide."

I don’t want to tell her I’ve been down this road before and gotten only disappointment and

heartache.BricetriedtoteachmethatGoddoesn’ttakepeoplewithoutareason.Hetakesthosewhono
longer need to be burdened with the trials of this life. I want to believe that. I have to, but it’s almost
impossibleatthispoint."Ican'tbelievethisishappening.Shehastobeokay.Ican'tloseher."Them.I
can’tlosethem.Thinkingoftheunbornchildwithoutasayinallofthisripsmeapart.Thatlittlelifewe
createddoesn’thaveachance.I’llneverbeabletoholdmybabyinmyarmsandcelebratethejoythat
comeswithit.ImayneverbeabletocelebrateanythingwithBriceagain.Thiscouldbeit.Theendof
everythingforher,forus.Forme.

I'mtoochokeduptostickaroundandhaveaconversation.Afterexcusingmyself,Itakeawalk

down a long corridor to try to calm down, except there isn't a way for me to settle my thoughts. I'm
petrified.IwanttowakeupandhavemybeautifulBricestaringatmewideeyedinourbed,promising
she'llneverleaveme.Ineedittohappen,becauseifIstandinthislimboformuchlongerI'mgoingtofall
topieces.

Thenewscomesnearlytwohoursaftertheytookherbackintosurgery.There'snothingtheycould

dotosaveher.Theheadtraumawastoosevere.Evenifshewouldhavesurvivedshewouldhavebeen
braindeadfortherestofherlife.

Iwatchhermothercollapseagainstherfather'schest.Heturnshisgazetothesideandcloseshis

eyes,aconstantmaskofpainnowapparentontheoncestrongman'sface.

KarenhurriedovertohelpwithhersisterwhileIremaininthesamespot,standingstillasthelife

drainsoutofme.Ikeeptellingmyselfthatthisisn'treal.Shecan'tbegone.There'snoway.

IfeellikeifIcontinuerepeatingitIwillsomehowmakeithappen.
My emotions take over. I'm falling apart by the second. I'm angry. I want to hurt someone, or

something.Ineedtoburdenmyselfwithaphysicalpainsoitcandistractmefromtheemotionaltearof
myheartstrings.IneedtobottleupmyfeelingsbeforetheytakemedownapathIsworeI'dneverventure
again,butIknowit'stoolate.

Wedidn'tgettosaygoodbye.Sheneveraskedmetogowithher.Icouldhavesavedher.Icould

haveseenthedrivercomingandsavedbothofthem.

I'm not around when the doctor asks them about her organs. Not that I'd have much say in the

matter.Bricewouldwanttosavehersister,evenifit'sthelastthingshedidinthislife.WhenKarentells
mewhat'sgoingonIhavetogetoutofthere.Ican'tremainandwaittocryoverthebodyofmylostfuture.
There'snowaytonotwanttoholdherandneverletgo.

I’m running for the parking garage, determined to distance myself from the sounds of their

heartbreak.Idon’twanttocomparenotesorhearthatit’sgoingtobeokay.Icertainlydon’twanttobe
anywherenearKimber,whoitturnsoutisprobablygoingtolivebecauseofhersister’sdeath.Itmakes
mesickimaginingthecauseofthisgettingasecondchance.It’snotfair.IhatehermorethanI’veever
hatedanyoneinmylife.ShegetstokeepapartofBricewithher.Shedoesn’tdeservethis.Ihopeshe
suffersanunimaginableguiltfortherestofherdays.IfIneverlayeyesonheragainitwillbetoosoon.
She’sstrippedmeofmyhappiness,andinturngetsrewardedwithahealthykidney.Whatkindofsickand
twistedrealityamIlivingin?

Thisisit.It'stheendofme.Thisunimaginabletorturewillneversubside.LastnightIwenttobed

nexttomyfuture,andwhenIwokeupitwasgone.

Chapter10
Weston

Ithinkithurtsnow,butgoinghomeisimpossible.WhenIpullupatOysterCoveI’mafreaking

disaster.InosoonershutofftheignitiontothetruckwhenIfinallyloseit.I’mbeatingthesteeringwheel
whilewarmtearsblindme.Mybellowinggetstheattentionofsomeoneinside.It’smyfatherwhorushes
outside,curiousandconcerned.Hestandsatthedriver’ssideandtriesthehandle.ItopensandIalmost
fallintohimimmediately.

“Son.What’sgoingon?”
Hedoesn’tknow.Noneofthemdo.Theporchfillswithwonderingeyes,andIcan’tconjureup

thecouragetospeak.Everythingisspinningoutofcontrol.MystomachknotsandIwonderifIholdmy
breathlongenoughI’llbeabletopassoutandavoidtellingthem.

Itrytogetthewordsout.Ifailthreetimes,mybuttonliptremblingsomuchIcanbarelykeepmy

lips closed. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m not broken, I may as well be dead too. Nothing lives
insideofmyheartnow.Someonelockedawaythebestpartsofmeandthrewawaythekey.

“IsitBrice?Thebaby?Son,what’sgoingon?”
MystepmothercomesupbehindDadandlooksmeover.“Heseemstobeinshock,Buck.Let’stry

togethiminside,”Alicesuggests.

Iletthemhelpme,becauselet’sfaceit,I’minnoconditiontodoitonmyown.
MinutespassandIcan’tspeakaboutit.They’vegivenmespace,butIhearthemtalkingaboutme

inthekitchen.DadisonthephonewithBrantandJamie.He’swonderingiftheyhaveanyideawhat’s
gottenmethismessedup.ThenIhearaphonevibratinginmypocket,andit’snotmyringtone.It’sBrice’s
phone.Dad’swalksintotheroomandseesmetakeitout.Hehangsupandtakeafewmorestepstoward
me.Istareatthedeviceasthewordsfinallymanagetheirwayoutofme.“She’sgone,Dad.”

“Gonewhere,son?”Hetakesthespotbesidemeonthecouch,stillnotfullyunderstanding.
“Dead.Briceisdead.”MorebellowsescapemeasIsayit.“Shediedthismorning.”
I’munabletoexplainthingsfurther.It’stoohard.Mydadholdsmemuchlikehedidwhenhetold

usMomwasgone.I’mcrippled,andnotonepersoninthehouseknowswhattosayordoforme.Right
nowIneedthis.Ineedtoletitallsinkin,soIcanfigureoutwhathappensnext,andhowI’msupposedto
keeplivinginaworldwithoutBrice.

Insteadofbadgeringme,Dadmakesatonofphonecalls.Aliceknowssomeoneatthehospitaland

reachesouttothem.They’reabletofindsomeoneintheintensivecareunitwhotellsthemwhathappened

whenBricewasbroughtin.I’mstillinthesamespotonthecouch,whiletheyrecitewhatthey’velearned
to the rest of the family in the kitchen. Bristol comes over and sits beside me, leaning her head against
minemuchlikeBricewoulddo.Ihateit,butatthesametimeIdon’twanttobealone.Itakeherhandand
gripittothankher,butstillhavenopowertospeak.

BrantandJamiearrivenotmuchlater.Jamie’scryinghereyesout,whileBrantkneelsinfrontof

me.He’stheoldest,andI’veturnedtohimwhenthingswerebadinthepast,butinthiscasehecan’tget
it.He’shadtwogoodlovesinhislifeafterMom,andnowhe’smarriedandreadytostartafamily.He
haseverythingI’velost.It’simpossibletobearoundhimandnotfeeljealous.Iresentthatmybrothergets
tobehappywhileIloseeverythingdeartomeinoneblow.Theyallmeanwell,butnoneofthishelps.

Chapter11
Weston


How does one say goodbye to their entire future? How is it possible to want to move on to the

nextdaywithoutthepersonyoushareyourlifewith?Idon’tknowwhattodo,say,orhowtofeel.Right
nowIwanttobreakeverythingstandinginmywayofthefutureIplannedwithBrice.God,Imissher.I
miss her smile, her kind words, that beautiful body, the way her hands could touch me and make my
worriessubside.Imissbeingabletolookforwardtoourlife.Ican’tdothisagain.Ican’tloseanother
person I love with my whole heart. It’s not fair. None of this is. More importantly, how does the earth
keep spinning when we lose our soul mates? How is anyone suppose to recover from this type of
devastation?

Her parents made the funeral arrangements. I’m sort of happy they didn’t ask me to attend the

meetingwiththecemeterydirector.Talkingaboutstonesandcasketsmademeuneasy.Wealwayssaidwe
wantedtobecrematedandthrownintothesea.Nowshe’sgoingtobeburiedsixfeetunderandthereisn’t
adamnthingIcandotochangethat.

ThenewsofBrice'sdeathhitsoursmalltownlikeanearthquake.Calls,flowers,fruitbasketsand

casserolesbombardme.Idon'tknowhowmuchtheythinkonemanisabletoeat,butIdon'tevenhavethe
roomtostoreit.

I've been staying at Oyster Cove, because the idea of sitting in my house without her isn't

somethingI'mpreparedfor.EachdayIrisewithnewhope,onlytobeknockeddownwhenIdiscoverit's
Hellalloveragain.

Thefuneralwillsealitallforme.Againstmyopinion,herparentswantanopencasketviewing.

Knowingtheamountofcranialdamagesheendured,Ihardlybelievethebeauticianwillbeabletowork
miracles.Thedecisionwasn'tuptome.Ihaven'tbeenabletostepfootinherparentshousesincethisall
happened.Infact,Ihaven'tevenseenthemsincethehospital.

Karenhasbeenrealnicewitheverything.She'scalledseveraltimestorelayfuneralinformation,

andeventellmeKimber'ssurgerywasasuccess.

Dadisdoingeverythinghecantosupportme.Lastnightwesatoutsideonthedeckinthefreezing

cold, and not once did he try to make me talk. I don't think I could if I tried. The mere thought of her
destroysmealloveragain.I'mstuckinaneverendingcircleofpain.Thereisnoescape.Nothinghelps.
Notalcohol,orthelittlebitofsleepI'mabletoget.NomatterhowhardItryIcan'trememberthelast
words she said to me. She could have told me to stop snoring for all I know. Familiar faces are all
around,butconversationdoesn'tcome.Iwanttodisposemyselffromthislifeandnevercomebackagain.

Iwanttocrawlinthatcasketwithmybeautiful,smart,loveandneverlethergo.Weusedtosaywe'd
growoldtogether,butnowIdon'twanttogrowoldatall.Iwanttotakeaboatoutintothefrigidocean
andsinkitwithmeinit.

Mygriefisunbearable.It’stakenpossessionofmeandIdon’tseeawaytoshakemyselffreeof

the suffocating torture I’m under the influence of. Locked in an eternal dungeon, my heart shatters into
millionsoftinyparticles.There’snoglueintheworldthatcanrepairsuchacatastrophe.Idon’tthinkI
wantto be fixed.Feeling this kindof remorse reminds meof everything wehad, everything that’s been
strippedfromme.

BriceusedtotellmeIwouldhealbutI’dneverfullygetoverthelossofmymother.ShesaidI

hadtorebuildmypurposearoundthethingsinlifeIwasabletocontrol,andnotburdenmyselfwithwhat
couldhavebeen.ThosewordsweresopowerfulbackthenwhenIneededhertofixme.

The roles have changed. Where I desperately yearned for salivation before, I’d rather suffer an

unendingamountofpainnow.Iwanttodie,becausetheendofmyexistencewon’tmakethisanyeasier
thanitis.It’slikeI’mdrowninginapoolofmyowntears.Icanhidethemfromtherestoftheworld,but
nevermyself.SomemightthinkthisiseasierformebecauseIhaveexperiencewithloss.They’refucking
wrong.

It’s the day of the funeral. I’m not prepared. I’ll never be prepared to tell Brice goodbye. The

churchalwaysseemedlargeuntiloneoftheisland'sdoctorspassedaway.Nowit'sstuffedwithpeople,
andasmuchasI'dliketohideinthebacktosaveface,Imustheadtothefront.

Herparentsaregreetingpeopleastheycomeuptopaytheirrespects.Myfather'shandholdsfirm

onmyshoulder,almostlikehe'spreparedtopushme,needbe.Wewaitinalongline,somepeoplestop
totellmehowsorrytheyareformyloss.Ibitedownandkeepmyjawlockedinordertoholdittogether.
ThecloserwegetthemoreflowersI'mabletosee.TheonesIorderedforheraresomewhereinthemix.
They're her favorite yellow carnations. I've written something special I'm going to put in the casket.
Knowingit'sinmypocketmakesmefeelasifI'mabouttogiveawaymylastpieceofhope.BehindmeI
knowmyfamilystandsunited.They'llbehereformeaslongasIneedthem,butweallknowthevoid
willneverbefilled.

Whenit’smyturntoapproachthecasketIsuckinadeepbreathandtakeinmysurroundings.All

eyesareonme,atleastthepeopleinthevicinityofwhereIstand.Dadcomeswithme,butstopswalking
a few steps away to give me space. I stare at her hands, because the idea of seeing that beautiful face
without emotion, lifeless, it’s too fucking hard. I could break down and cry at any second. There’s no
regardforthepeoplewhomightbewatching,andallthereasonit’sbetterifIholditin.IcanswearthatI
won’t,butit’sprobablyundeniable.Ican’tunloveher.Myheartisn’tgoingtosuddenlyunbreak.Mymind
won’tshutoffthefeelings.

Takingmytime,IscanherfingersandseetheringIplacedononenotlongago.Somanypromises

wentintothatcommitment.WithoutevenconsideringwhatIwasdoing,myhandcomesupandgrabshers.
She’scoldandstiff,butit’sstillBrice.That’smyring,mypromises.Iwasoncelostuntilshefoundme,
and now I’m right back in that same wretched limbo. My eyes fill with warm fluid and the first drop
missesmycheekandhitsherarm.IwatchitslidedownintothefabricofthecasketwhileIfighttogain
thecouragetolookatheronelasttime.Idon’twanttorememberherthisway,butI’llregretthisifIdon’t
doitanyway.

Tucked in my pocket, I pull out the note I so easily wrote the night before. I say it was easy

becauseIwastalkingaboutmyunendingfeelingsforher.Thatwillalwayscomewithouteffort.

I think back to some of the words, and the way it crushed me to put them on paper. If she’s

somewhereouttherewatchingovermeIknowthispieceofpaperisirrelevant.MyBricealreadyknows
theextentofmylove.SometimesIdidn’thavetosayit.Ourconnectiondiditforus.

Ittakesawholelotofpaintoliftmyeyestoherface.She’snotmyBrice.Thosebeautifulcobalt

eyes are forced shut. Her lips the same way, and with some sort of gloss over them Brice wouldn’t be
caught wearing. Not caring if anyone will fuss, I take my hand and wipe it off. Those once soft lips I
couldn’t stop kissing are like the cold skin of a dead chicken. A sob escapes me, but my gaze doesn’t
leaveher.Ipetherhair,styledaroundherface,andnoticeallthemakeupittookforthemtocoverthe
bruisingaroundherforehead.They’vetrimmedherbangstohidemostoftheinjuries,butit’sstillahueof
purple.Isniffleandhearvoicesgettinglouderbehindme.Peoplearewaitingfortheirturn,butIdon’t
leave.Ican’t.IrefusetowalkawayfromthisfinalmomentwithBrice.

“Iloveyou,babe.I’mdyingherewithoutyou.”Irunmyhandoverherstomach.“Youtakecareof

ourlittleoneforme.Onedaywe’llmeetagain,andI’llmakeyoufallinlovewithmeallover.Resteasy,
andtakecareofmyheartuntilwe’retogetheragain.”

I care barely manage the words as a gentle hand comes up and touches my shoulder. It’s her

mother.I’mkindofshocked.She’snevertouchedmeinacomfortingway.“Consideringwhatshewent
throughIthinkthey’vedoneagoodjob.”

Inod,becausetalkingatthispointisimpossible.
“I know you’re hurting, Weston. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but we know Brice loved

you.”

Ijustkeepnodding.
Shepatsmyback.“Doyouwantanotherminutewithher?”
Thistimemyheadshakes.“No.I’vesaideverythingIcan.”
Wehug.Itmakesthisallworse.Myeyesstayclosedasthetearspouroutofthem.Thisisn’thow

Bricewantedustofinallygetalong.“I’msorryforyourloss,Kathy.Bricewaseverythingtome.IwishI
couldtradeplaceswithher.I’ddoanythingtobringherback.”

Idon’tknowifsheunderstandswhatI’msaying.It’snotlikeI’mspeakingclearly.Beforeshecan

answerIwalkaway.Air.Ineedit.IhavetoretreatoutthedoorIcameandtakeafewdeepbreathstobe
abletogetthroughthis.

CalebandCooparewalkingupthepathsharingasmoke.ImeetthemandtakeitfromCoop,the

dragfillingmylungwithasmokyburn.

My head shakes and I squint when the sun peeks from a wandering cloud. “She’s really fucking

gone.”

“Look,bro,Calebbegins.“We’rehereforyou.”
Inod.“Yeah,that’swhateveryonekeepssaying,buttheyaren’tlivinginmyconstanthell.Ineed

togetoutofhereforawhile.It’stoomuch,toomanyreminders.”

“Youwanttoleavethechurch?Needaridesomewhere?”
Ishakemyhead.“Ineedtoleavetheisland.”
“Butthefamilyishere,West,”Coopremindsme.
Runningmyfreehandthroughmyhair,Isighheavily.“There’snothinghereformebutpainright

now.Trustme,nooneisgoingtowanttowatchmedestructagain.Steppingawayistherightdecision.”

“You’re coming back, right? I mean, you’re not going to leave and disappear forever are you?”

Calebinquires.

IwipemyeyesagainasIrespond.“Onlytimewilltell.”

Chapter12
Weston

OneweekafterBriceisburiedinthegroundI’mpackingupthelittleI’llneedandheadingnorth.

I’vemadeacouplecallstoafriendofminewhousedtooysterwithus.Wewenttohighschooltogether,
andwhenhecomeshometovisithegloatsabouttheamountofmoneyhemakescrabbingandfishingin
Alaska. It seems like the right move for me. I want seclusion and it doesn’t get much more lonely than
movingtothefurthestpartofthecountrytoavoideverythingIlost.

Thistriphasalotoffirstsforme.I’veflowninacommercialplanebefore,butneveratinyten

passengercraftthatfeelslikeit’sgoingtofallapartwitheverygustofwind.Itisn’tuntilwelandthatI
wishitwouldhavejustcrashedandendedmyexistencesoIwouldn’thavetosuffer.

Nick Jenson greets me at the small building they call the airport. The wind whips, making the

wintercoatI’mwearingseemlikethinfabric.Nickshakeshisheadwithanamusedgrimace.Hepointsto
hisextrathickparkalinedwithfur.ItremindsmeoftheoneIboughtforBrice,theoneshewaswearing
whensheleftthenightshe’dneverreturnfrom.IwinceatthethoughtandrememberwhereIamandwhy
I’vecomesofar.

Wehalfhuginareunitedkindofembrace.“Goodtoseeyou,West.Youlooklikeshit.”
He’sright.I’veletmyselfgo.Ihaven’tshavedsincetheaccident.Ibarelysleep,andwhenIdo

dreamsofwhatI’llneverhaveagainwakeme.I’mmiserableandit’stakingatollonmybody.“Roomto
talk.Ialmostmistookyouforabear.”

Heguidesmetowardalargefour-wheeldrivevehiclethat’sstillrunning.Snowdriftsoutlinethe

building he’s parked against, and in the distance is the most beautiful landscape I’ve ever set eyes on.
There’ssnowcappedmountainsasfarasI’mabletosee.“Tellmeyouhaveheatatyourcabin.”

“You’llgetusedtoit.Youthinkit’sbadnow,waituntilwe’reoutintheBeringSea,freezingour

ballsoff.IswearminegoupinmystomachandstaythereuntilafewdaysafterI’mhome.”

“Great.Can’twait.”He’sjoking,butthetemperaturesaregoingtotakemeawhiletogetusedto.

It’s not just cold. It’s blistering. My face hurts each time the wind blows. I’ve been outside for five
minutesandmyskinfeelschapped.Thissucks.

Thedrivebacktohiscabintakeshours.We’rereallyinthemiddleofnowhere.I’msurprisedwe

come up to a town with small stores and people around. Every one of them wave as we pass by. I’m
takinginthesurroundings,tryingtogetalayofthelandforfuturereference.I’mnotplanningonshacking
upwithNickforever.Stillunsureifthiswillturnouttobemyforeverhome,Ihavetosetdownroots.

Itwasn’twhatmyfamilywantedtohear,butIdidn’tleavethemwithouthopethatI’dreturnone

day.ThehouseBriceandIsharedwillbethereforme.Wewerebothonthemortgage,andhadpaidextra

everymonthforanunexpecteddeathinsurancepolicy.Thehousewillbepaidinfull,soIonlyhaveto
worryaboutthetaxesuntilIreturn.I’vetoldCoopandCalebtheycouldlivetheretokeepupwiththe
place.Theonlystipulationisthattheycan’ttouchBrice’sthings.AliceandJamiewentoverandpacked
awaymostofherclothesandputthemintheattic.Idon’tknowwhatI’lldowiththem,butforthetime
beingI’mgladtheyaren’tintheclosetcollectingdust.TheytookherparentsafewthingsIthoughtthey
mightwanttohave.Asfarasthewallsfullofpictures,wellthey’regoingtoremaininmybedroomwith
thedoorlocked.CalebandCoopcanusetwoofthethreeroomsonthesecondfloorwithouteverneeded
tostepfootinmyprivatearea.Fornowitseemsliketherightdecision.Bricelovedthathouse.Shewas
rentingitbeforewegottogether,andwhenthelandlordputitupforsalewejumpedontheideaofmaking
itourown.It’sapieceofherI’llnevergetridof,evenifIcanneverbringmyselftolivethereagain.

Nickpullsontoalongdirtroadsurroundedbylargepines.It’sbumpyandwe’refollowingtracks

insnowthat’satleasttwofootindepth.Iplacebothhandsonthedashtokeepfrombouncingaroundin
myseat.“Howfarbackisyourplace?”

“Justaroundthisbend.Itoverlooksthelake.Howareyouaboutusinganouthouse?Imayhave

forgottomentionthat.”

“Areyoubeingseriousrightnow?”
“I’mfuckingwithyou,man.Don’tgetyourlittlepantiesinabunch.Ihaveelectricandplumbing.

Hell,Ievenhaveanicegeneratorincasewelosepower.YouandIareusedtolivinginatownwithlittle
resources. It’s not much different, except for all the rain Chincoteague gets, we double it in snow. The
lakeisfrozenforaboutsixmonthsoutoftheyear,butwecanicefish.Ifwe’reluckywe’llgetputonthe
samecrew,ifnotyoucouldbeawaywhenI’mhome.That’swhyIsaidIdidn’tmindifyoustayedhere.
There’sagoodchanceyou’llhavethisplacetoyourselfhalfthetime.It’llworkout.

I try to be positive. This is a whole new life for me. I want to make it work, because there’s

nothingbackathomeformeanymore,nothingbutheartbreak.

Nick has a couple neighbors, but they’re through the woods a ways. His place is about fifteen

hundred square foot. The upstairs has two matching bedrooms with a bathroom in between. It’s nothing
fancy. The raw materials are the same as the outside. Cedar lines every exterior wall. Paneling that
matchesframesouttherooms.Theopenfloorplanonthefirstlevelmakesthespacelooklarger.Thehigh
ceilings in the living room follow the spiral staircase to the second floor. A woodstove with timber
stacked on either side sits in the corner of the room. A large cast iron kettle is on top of the flat cook
service.Thefurnitureisdated,butlookscomfortable.It’stheoldprintofpheasantswithwhatlookslike
ahandmadeframe.Ithinkmydadhadthesamekindintheeighties.He’sgotaflatscreentelevisionhung
onthewallwithsurroundsoundandagamingsystemunderneath.Thekitchenisonelongwallofcounter
andcabinets.Thegasstoveandrefrigeratoraretogether,whilethesinkoverlookstheonlywindowon
thatsideofthecabin.Madeofwood,thecountersarecoveredinboxesofcrackersandcereal,soIhave
noideawhathekeepsinthecabinets.Thereareacoupledishesinthesink,andasIlookaroundIdon’t
seeadishwasher.That’sgoingtosuck.AssoonaswegototownI’mbuyingeverypaperproductIcan
find,becauseIdon’tdodishes.Ever.

I meet the captain of the ship I’ll be working on and fill out my paperwork. There are loads of

safetywarningsandprecautionarygearIneedtogetfamiliarwithifIwanttocomebackinonepiece.I
rememberwatchingshowsabouttheguyswhodothesedangerousjobsandnowI’mabouttobeoneof
them.Dadwasn’thappyaboutmychoice.IthinkthewholefamilyassumesI’mdoingthistoendmylife.
TheythinkI’vecomeupheretoAlaskasotheycouldn’tstopme.EvenBristolbeggedmestay,notthat
anyone was going to change my mind. The only thing to keep me there is gone, my other half, my
everything.

Myfirstadventure,asI’dliketocallit,cameseveralweeksafterthemove.Inthatamountoftime

I caught up with Nick, met some of his co-workers, and even people from town that hang at the local

tavern. We drink a lot. I’m pretty sure we’re alcoholics, because it beats being cold all the time. The
alcoholhelpswiththememories,thoughIthinkNickwouldbegtodiffer.Whereitnumbsmysoul,hegets
aearful,apparentlysometimeslastingallnightlong.ItseemswhenI’mdrunkItalkabouthermore,and
weeplikeababy.WhenIdenieditherecordedmeonhisphone.AsembarrassedasIwas,hedidn’tgive
metoomuchshitaboutit.HeknowsmydemonsandwhyI’minAlaska.HeknowswhatI’mrunningfrom,
andhowhardI’mtryingtoforget.

Theboatisamassivecrewofeighteen,butthat’snothingcomparedtotheamountofworktheyput

forthinordertomaketheircatchloads.TwodaysinandI’mbeat.Theonlygoodthingaboutthewhole
jobistheamazingscenery.InallmylifeI’veneverseenanythingmorebeautifulthanhugewavesofthe
rollingsea,withapicturesquelandscapebackingit.I’veseencarcassesofwhales,andevenliveones
thatcomeupforair,hugeschoolsofmassivebeastslivingwithinthedarkfrigidwaters.

I’veneverhadtosleeponthewater,notunlessIwastakingagirloutforagoodtime.Thisisa

wholenewballgame.Thereisnocalmontheroughwater.We’reconstantlyrockingbackandforth,andI
swearinallmyyearsI’veneverbeenasseasickasIbecomethatfirsttwoweeks.Whenwearriveback
atthedocksmylegscan’tadjust.ForthenextweekIfeelliketheworldisstillrocking.WhileI’mtrying
toadjusttomynewoccupation,thedifferencesandbeautyofitall,Istarttohearfromfamilywhowantto
knowI’mstillamongtheliving.ImakeapacttospeaktoDadatleastonceamonth.Idon’tthinkhe’s
happyabouttheidea,butmyscheduledoesn’talwayspromiseI’llbenearaphone.

Sixmonthsgoby,andslowlyIfeellikeI’mgettingintoanewroutinewithmylife.NickandIare

assignedtodifferentcrews,soforthemostpartwerarelyseeoneanother.ThegoodthingisthatI’dmet
lotsoflocalsbeforebeinglefttofendformyself.Ittookonebigstormtocomeintoforcemetocleana
dish.Thepaperproductsranoutandtherewasnowayformetodigmywayouttoastore.Iletthempile
upforthreedaysfirst.EachtimeIglancedattheheap,I’dpictureBricemakingfunofmefornotwanting
towashthem.That’snottheonlytimeIseeher.SometimesitseemssorealthatIswearshe’swithme,
especiallywhenI’moutonthatboatputtingmyselfindanger.Ican’tletgo,nomatterhowfarIgetaway
fromtheisland.

Chapter13
Weston


It’s almost summer when I come home to discover mail addressed to me. Since I haven’t

forwardedanythingfromChincoteagueIassumeit’sfamily.ImailedDadacardforBristolonce.Withno
return address, I quickly open the envelope. The handwriting doesn’t seem familiar. I start from the
beginningofthetwopagednote.

West:
I hope this letter finds you well. I wasn’t surprised you left town considering everything that

happened.Wordscan’texpresshowsorryIamforyou,foreveryoneBriceloved.I’mnotwritingthis
todaytoaskforsomekindofforgiveness.Iknowthat’ssomethingI’llneverget.

Istopreading.ThisletterisfromKimber.Whywouldmydadgivehertheaddress?Whywould

anyonethinkI’dbeokayreceivinganythingfromthatfamily?Beforefinishing,Icrumblethepaperand
tossitinto thefire.There isn’tadamn thingIwant tohear fromthatgirl. Sheruinedmy life.Shetook
Briceaway.Shedestroysallthatshetouches.

I’minafowlmoodforthenextfewdays,butdon’tcallhometoreammydadanewass.I’drather

ignorethewholeordealandpretenditneverhappened.

Sometimesasmuchaswethinkwecanpushproblemsunderarug,theyseemtofindtheirwayout

again.

Almostexactlyamonthfromthefirstletter,anotherarrives.ThistimeI'mwisetothehandwriting

andtossitbeforewastingthetimetoopensomethingIhavenointerestin.

Theykeepingcoming.
Everymonthanewletterreplacestheonebeforeit.Sevenlettersintotal,allunread.Mymonthly

talkswithDadnevermentionthem,andhedoesn'tleadonthatthere'sanythingIneedtoknow.Hisonly
concernisthatIcomehomeforThanksgivinginwhichIsadlydecline.I'mnotready.Ithasn'tbeenayear.
I'mnotevensureifthegrasshashadenoughtimetogrowaroundhergrave.

I like being alone, away from landmarks, especially that damn lighthouse we shared so many

memorabletimesin.MaybeI'llgetmyselfadogforChristmas.That'sallIneed.Nickwon'tcare.He'd
probablylikesharingtheresponsibilitywhenI'moutonthewater.Ihaven'tseenmuchofhimlately.He's
beenspendingtimewithacertainsomeoneintown.Hestaysatherplacealotonhisofftime.It'scool
thathe'sfoundsomeone.Everyonedeservestobehappyatleastpartoftheirlives.Ihadmyhappiness.I
experiencedalovelikenoother.Ican'toutruntheneverendingemptinessIfeelonadailybasis.Maybe

I'm torturing myself. Brice wouldn't want this life for me. The shrink in her would tell me keeping my
feelingsbottleduponlymakestheproblemsworse.She'dtellmeIcouldbehappyagainifIletmyself.
She'dtellmetostophidingfromeverythingthathurtsandfacethethingsuntilI'mabletomoveforward.I
know,becausewewentthroughthisbefore.I'mfullyawareofeverythingI'mdoingwrong.Admittingshe
wasrightdoesn'tmakegettingthereanyeasieronme.IfIdon'twanttobehappywithouther,howamI
supposedtomoveforward?

ChristmasinAlaskaiswhite.It'squiet,likeaneeriesilencethat'sbeautifulbutdepressingatthe

same time. Nick is spending the holiday with his local girlfriend’s family. They invited me along, but I
kindlydeclined.I’mnotonetointrude.InsteadImakeplansofmyown.Igoonanadventureinanold
pickupIgotagooddealonafewmonthsback.

A litter of Great Pyrenees pups are ready to go to good homes. Best thing about this particular

breedistheirloveforcoldweather.Thickcoatsprovidethemwithathermallayerthateasilyadaptsto
both frigid and warm conditions. They're huge dogs, with lots of fuzzy white hair and a protective
demeanorI'dwantinaconstantcompanion.

One female stands in a litter of six, all kept in a fenced area outdoors. They're like baby polar

bears,needyeyesbeggingforattention.Icrouchdownandwatchasthefemalewithagraypatchonher
lefteyecomesrightovertome.Iweavemyhandsthroughtherailsandpullherintomyarms.Shelicks
thesideofmyfacewithhersweetpuppybreathandmyheartbeginstobeatagain.It'sthebestmoneyI
thinkI'veeverspent.We'rehalfwayoffthefarm,heronmylap,whenIcomeupwithhername."I'mgoing
to call you Bee, after the other woman in my life. What do you think of that, sweet girl? I think Brice
wouldloveyoutopieces."

HertailwagswhileIfocusonthesnowyroad,sowecanpickupdogfoodandsometoysbefore

goingbacktothecabinandintroducinghertohernewhome.

It'sneverfeltlikehometome.ItmaybewhereIreside,butit'snotreallyhome,anditneverwill

be.

IspendmyChristmaswithlittleBee.Weeatanelkroastandhangoutonthecouchwatchingthe

festivitiesonthetelevisionscreen.I'veoptedtotakeafewmonthsoff.It'sabouttobehalibutseasonand
I'vebankedenoughmoneytobecomfortableforawhile.SomeweeksIclearedoverfivegrand,andsince
mybillsareminimal,I'vebeensavingtherest.Partofmewantstobuymyownfishingboat,andbuilda
househereinAlaskawhereIcanleavemypastbehindinVirginia.ThenIthinkofmyfamily.Imissthem,
everysingledaythatpasses.

Christmaswasdepressing,evenwithapuppytomakemesmile.Beeisagreatcompanion.She

keepsmeoccupiedandfillstheonceemptyspotinthebednexttome,butit'snotthesameascuttingup
withmybrothersorgettingadvicefrommydad.ImissAlice'scooking,andthewayshesetsmydadin
hisplacewhenhe'sbeingagrouch.Imissmysister'ssmartmouth,andthewaythetwinsdrivemebat-
shitcrazy.TheislandholdsmorethanmemoriesofBrice.Mywholelifeisthere,waitingformetoreturn.

Theonlyobstacleisme.
Anothertwomonthsoflivingasolitarylifepassesmeby.IdoonerotationfishingandmissBee

somuchIdecideI’mgoingtotakeanotherbreak,maybeonlyworkwhenit’scrabbingseason.I’mpretty
setwithcash.Forthemostpartwehuntandfishforourmeat.IthinkBeeeatsmorethanIdo,sogroceries
haven’trunmemuch.Forthemostpartwetittlearoundthecabinorgointotownforamealoradrink.
Beewaitsinthebackofthetrucklikeagoodgirl,gettingtheattentionfromanyonethatpasses.Thekids
loveher.Onceshejumpedclearoutofthepickuptochaseafteragroupthatwaspullingasledwitha
four-wheeler. By the time I tracked her down she was a few blocks away, frolicking and soaked to the
bone.

I’vemetsomewomen.Gettinghitonandaskedoutisn’tasbadasitusedtobe.Ideclineallthe

offers. Sure, it would be nice to feel the comfort of a woman again, but it wouldn’t be right. I’m not
interested.Imayneverbe.

Don’tgetmewrong.Ihavefriends.They’rethepeoplewehuntandfishwith.Someco-workers

are cool company as well. I’m not entirely alone. I just find solace in the peace and quiet of being by
myself.Iwanttowatchthebearstandinginthelaketocatchfishanddrink.Iwanttolookoutsideandsee
amoosestaringbackatme.It’snothinglikebeingathomewherewildhorsesrunacrossthebeaches.It’s
surreal.

Since moving it’s been a real bonus not to have to worry about money, and much like my

hometown, Alaska life is completely laid back. People aren’t struggling. Even the folks living off the
land, who some would assume were poverty stricken, are happy. They appreciate the little things, and
respectnatureforwhatitisandhowmuchitgivesback.

Speakingofgivingback,Beeisgettinghuge.She’salreadynearlysixtypoundsinweightandthe

vet says by the time she’s done growing she could weigh nearly one fifty. Her parents looked like
miniatureponies,soIknewallalongwhatIwasgettinginto.Shemaybebig,butshe’sneverintheway.
I’vetaughthertoretrieveandshelovestoplay.NomatterwhereIam,she’sbymyside.Ican’timagine
howsadshe’llbewhenIhavetospendtwoweeksoutonthewater.She’sgottenspoiledwithmebeing
offforwhile.

Myfamilykeepsbadgeringmetocomehomeforavisit.I’mthinkingImighttakethemuponthe

offercomespring.ItwouldtakemeaboutaweekorsoifIdrove,andthatwouldbemyplanifIwanted
tobringBeealong.AfteraniceSundaymorningphonecalltomyfather,Nickwalksinthedoorwitha
packofmailhepickedupfromthepostoffice.Hehandsmetwoletterswithfamiliarwriting.They’ve
beencomingmorefrequently.Itosstheminthetrashandshakemyhead.

“Howmanyofthemhaveyouthrownaway?”Hequestions.
“Ilostcount.”
“Whoaretheyfrom?Didyouhaveahoneyonthesideorsomething?”
Shootinghimadirtylook,Ifeeltheneedtoexplainfurther.“No.NeverwithBrice.Thelettersare

fromhersister.Youknowtheonethatshewaswithintheaccident?Theonewhoiswalkingaroundwith
hersister’sorganinsideofher.That’swhothelettersarefrom.Agood-for-nothing-hoe.”

“Don’tyouwonderwhyshekeepswritingthem?”
“No.Ireallydon’tgiveashit.Unlessit’sacopyofherobituaryIdon’tgiveadamn.Sheruined

mylife.Nothingshecouldsaywouldchangethat.”

“Damn. I can see where you’d be bitter, man. It’s understandable. I just wonder why she keeps

writingwhenit’sclearyou’renevergoingtoreturnanythingback.”

“Because she thinks the world revolves around her. She’s a selfish little bitch. She’s probably

writing to brag about how good her life is without her sister, or how much healthier she is with her
kidney.”

“I’m not taking up for the girl, but I’m sure losing her sister hit her hard. I don’t see anyone

gloatingaboutthedeathofasibling.Ifanyonefeelstoblameit’sher.Imaginelivingwiththatkindofguilt
fortherestofyourlife.I’msureit’schangedherinwaysmostofuswillneverbeabletocomprehend.
Maybeshe’sreachingout.”

Nick sounds exactly like Brice. I almost feel like she’s standing behind him telling him what to

say.

“Idon’tneedashrink,man.”
Hetosseshishandsintheair.“It’syourlife.I’mjustspeakingassomeoneontheoutsidelooking

in.I’mnotsayingyoushouldrunoutandforgivethechick,butmaybeseeingwhatshehastosaycould
giveyouclosure.It’sbeenoverayear,andeventhoughIlikeyoubeingaround,there’sgoingtocomea

timewhereyouhavetogohomeforsomething.Wouldn’tyouratheritbeonyourtermsandnotbecause
someonewassickorhasdied?”

Nickshakeshishead.
“You’reright,butthatstilldoesn’tmeanI’mready.”
“Ready for what, West? No one is giving you a time limit on how long you can grieve. Hell, it

would take me a lifetime to deal with what you’ve lost, but at least face it. Visit the people who care
aboutyou.You’reluckytohavethem.AllI’vegotisadrunkforadadwhoIgoyearswithouthearing
from.Youdon’tknowhowluckyyouare.”

That’strue.I’vetakenthemforgrantedwhenalltheywantedtodowassupportme.Inod,settled

onthefactthatI’mgoingtohavetoreturntotown,andmaybeevendigtheselasttwoenvelopesoutofthe
trash to see what the hell is going on with Kimber. We were never close, so her reaching out to me is
definitelysomethingnew.

Chapter14
Kimber


She’s been gone for one year and two months and one day. Not one of those days have gone by

whereIwisheditwasn’tmedeadintheground.

After my kidney transplant, I went home to a warzone. Mom and Dad have since split up. The

house is for sale. All of our memories are being packed away in boxes. The amount of tears I’ve shed
can’t be healthy, nor will they change all that’s been lost. It’s like one day I woke up and the world
changed before my eyes. I’ve pleaded with God. I’ve begged anyone who will listen. I’d make a deal
withademonjusttoturnbacktheclockandchangethathorriblenight.Whatmakeseverythingcomefull
circleisthepersonIwouldgotoinordertofigurethisoutistheonewhoisburiedinthegroundatthe
localcemetery.She’stheonlypersonwhocouldgivemesomesortofpurpose.Isureashellcan’tfindit
onmyown.

Everythingthat’shappening,allthispain,isdirectlymydoing.I’mtheculprit;thereasoneveryone

looksatmewithdisgust.I’mthatnuisancegirlwhotookthegooddoctorfromthem.I’mselfishandonly
careaboutmyself.

They’rehalfrighttofeelthatway.Iusedtobethatperson,theonewhogrewupintheshadowof

herbigoverachieversister.IusuallygotwhatIwantedbecausemyparentswantedmeoutoftheirhair.I
betiftheyneverhadmethey’dstillbehappilymarried.

SinceIhavesomuchtimetoreflectonlife,I’mawareofwhatacrappypersonIusedtobe.That

allchangedthenightoftheaccident.

Onecan’tcomprehendwhatit’sliketowakeupandlearnthatyou’vekilledyourownsister,or

thatyourparentswillneverbeabletolookatyouwithloveintheirheartsagain.PeoplemightsayI’m
overreacting,butthepeoplewhobroughtmeintothisworldaredifferentnow.They’redistantandcold.

IcouldsayI’msorryathousandtimesbutitwillneverbringBriceback.Forthatreasonmyheart

will constantly ache. I’m the last person who ever talked to my sister. I’m the last person to hear her
gentlevoicecomfortingme,tellingmeeverythingwasgoingtobeokay.I’mthelastpersontohearhersay
thatIwasn’ttoblame,butIam.Ialwayswillbethereasonshe’sgone.NothingIeverdocanbringher
back.Thisismorethanaconstanttorment.

WhenIclosemyeyesIseeherfrightenedface.Irememberhertellingmetoremaincalmandthat

helpwascoming.Iremembereverysecondofbeingbesideherinthatwreckedupsidedownvehicle.

Iseeallofthewonderfulthingssheleftbehind.IseeherunbornbabyandthelifesheandWest

couldhavehadtogether.It’stoomuch.

Shewasmyrock,aconstantwheneveryoneelsecouldn’tgiveashit.Imighthavegottenonher

nervesandmadeWesthateme,butshealwaysmadetimeforme.

MostofthethingsIdidwerebecauseIlongedforattention.IthoughtIwasn’tlovedasmuchas

Brice.Shewasalwaystheonetheyweremostproudof.Adoctor.Yearsofschooling.I’mjustthetown
floosy,oratleastthat’swhatpeoplesay.

IknowIwasoutofcontrolattimes,butthatnightIwasbeingresponsible.Icalledherbecause

my so-called friends ended up ditching me at some stranger’s party, and on top of that he was a drug
dealer. The second I saw someone sit a gun on the coffee table I knew I had to get out of there fast. I
hadn’t driven my car, and it’s not like I could pay for a cab. There are no cabs in the boonies. I hated
wakingherup,butIwasscared,andcallingmydadwouldhavebeenadisasterwaitingtohappen.She
reassuredmeitwasn’tabigdeal.Shetoldmeshe’drathermecallherthengetbehindthewheelaftera
fewbeers.I’donlydranktwo.Tobehonest,Iwasn’treallyinthemoodtoparty.TheguyI’dbeenseeing
endedupbreakingthingsoff.Whatelsewasnew?

IcouldtellBricewastired.Shewasalert,butyawningandsayingshe’donlybeensleepingfora

littlewhile.Ifeltbad.WhenIcalledIthoughtthey’dstillbeout.

Neitherofuscouldhavepredictedadrunkdriverwouldskipacrossthemedianandplowintous.

Therewerenoheadlightsontowarnus,andwedon’thavestreetlightsinthearea.Onesecondwewere
listening to music and the next we were rolling. The crash was so loud I can still hear it like it’s
happeningonrepeat.Itwaslikemylifewasflashingbeforeme,andinthatinstantIknewnothingwas
evergoingtobethesame.Ishouldhavebeentheonetodie.Ishouldhavebeenthepersontogivemy
sister an organ so that she could continue living. She’d made a life for herself. She was going to get
married to someone who loved every single part of her. They were perfect together. I’d always been
jealousofthelovetheyshared.

Knowing I’d broken the heart of Weston Wallace only burdens me more. He’s a good guy who

never got the credit he deserved. Part of my rehabilitation is to reach out to the people I feel I’ve
wronged.He’salwaysbeenatthetopofmylist.Myactionsdidn’tjusttakemysister,buttheirunborn
baby.Ican’tfathomwhatthelastyearofhislifehasbeenlike.Ittookmeforevertogetsomeonetotell
mewhathappenedtohim.Ifitweren’tfortheoldhousekeyIkept,Iprobablyneverwouldhavefigured
itout.

CooperandCalebWallacehavebeenlivingatthehouseWestsharedwithmysister.Ihadtowait

forthemtogotoworkbeforesneakinginside.Everything’sbeenmovedaround.Mystomachknottedup
themomentItookinthespaceandrecalledthewaysheusedtohaveitdecorated.I’msurprisedtofind
thebedroomdoorislocked.IpryitopenwithakitchenknifeandamshockedwhenIfindituntouched.
It’sexactlythewayitusedtobe.Pictureremainonthewalls.Hervitaminsstillsitonthenightstand.Her
phonechargerispluggedinanddanglingacrossthetop.Thebedhasn’tbeenmade,andfromtheamount
ofdustIcantellthisroomhasn’tbeenusedforaverylongtime.Isatonthatbedandbawledmyeyesout.
Isawthesonogrampictureoftheirunbornbabyonthebedsidetable.Thatmadeitevenworse.Somuch
loss.Nopossiblewaytoeverforgivemyself.

WhenI’vemadesureit’slocked,Isearchthekitchenforanysortofmailthatmayhaveaforward

address. As I’m about to give up the mailman drops today’s envelopes in the box. I hurry outside and
search each piece. That’s where I find it. A post office box in Alaska, with his name under the return
address.Ican’tbelieveit.WestmovedtoAlaska.MyhandsshakeasItakeaphotooftheaddressand
slipitbackintothebox.WhenIdriveawayfromthehouseIdon’tknowifI’lleverbebackagain.Iknow
Iwon’tbeinvited.

Followingthedeathofmysister,Istoppedtalkingtomyfriends.Ineededsomeonetoblameand

theyscrewedmeoverthatnightattheparty.

If I’d been more responsible a lot of people would still be around. It’s like I caused a major

dominoeffect.Thatdaychangedmylife.BeforeIhadnopurpose.NowIfeellikeeverywakingsecondis
aboutredemption,andtheharderItrytofindsomethingtolivefor,themoreIlearnI’malone,andwill
diethatwaytoo.Ifeellikeit’stheonlywaytorightmywrongs.

After the accident I didn’t get released from the hospital for several weeks. I missed Brice’s

funeral.Inevergottosaygoodbye.It’sbadenoughIlostmysister,butthefirstmomentIsteppedfootinto
mychildhoodhomeIknewI’dlostmyparentstoo.

Ineveraskedformysister’sorgan.Ipleadedwithmyfamily.Ibeggedthemtoletmediebefore

givingmeapieceofher.It’snotbecauseI’mungrateful.It’sbecauseeverysingledayIknowI’malive
becauseshe’sdead.Howisapersonsupposedtohandlesomethinglikethat?

Riddledwithgrief,Ibecamesomeonetheystillcan’tlookintheeyes.It’ssobadIhadtoleave,

evenbeforeIknewtheyweregettingadivorce.Withoutarealplacetostay,Isleepinmycar,butthat
onlymakesmefeelworse,becauseifI’dhaditthatnightmysisterwouldstillbealive.

I tried to take my own life. I went into the bathroom one day and pulled every pill out of the

medicinecabinet,shovingtheminmymouththendrinkingfromthespigot.Afterafewminutessomething
mademewanttolive.Istilldon’tknowwhyImademyselfthrowup.Itwaslikesomeoneforcedmeto
doit,yetIknowIwasaloneinthatbathroom.

Iwasabletovomitmostofthemedsout,nonetheless,myparentsinsistedonhavingmystomach

pumped.It’sterribletoknowtheycan’tbearoundme,buttheydon’twantmedeadeither.Idon’tknow
what’sworse.

Iwasorderedaseventy-twohourevaluationinthementalfacility.Fromthere,Iwasreferredtoa

shrink.ForsixmonthsIhadtoseethewomanthreetimesaweek.Sheforcedmetotalkaboutmysister,
myparentsandourupbringing.EverysingletimeIsatinthatofficeIfeltlikeIwantedtodieagain.

When the appointments stopped I tried to take my life again. This time I planned it out. I drank

enoughalcoholtonumbthepainandslitmywrists.I’dalmostbledoutinthetubofashittymotelwhen
the maid came in to clean the room. I didn’t know check out was so early in the morning. Once again,
somekindofdivineinterventionkeptmealive.

Thistimemyparentshadmecommitted.
Formonthsfourwhitewallssurroundedmemostoftheday.Iwasallowedtowritelettersinthe

commonarea,butwasconsideredhighrisktohavethematerialsinmyroom.I’mnotgoingtolieabout
myintentions.Istillwantedtodie.IfanopportunityaroseIwasgoingtodoit,becauseeverysingleday
waslikeburningaliveinHell.

I’dsayafterthefirstweekinthehospitalmyfatherstoppedcomingtovisit.Momlastedanother

fewdaysbeforeitbecamelessfrequent.FinallyIstoppedexpectingthem.Onceinawhilemyauntwould
comeby.She’dsneakmetreatsandpromisethatIhadlotsofreasonstowanttolive.Iwasn’talloweda
phoneorcomputertime,soIneverexpectedanyoneelseIknewwouldmakethetrip.I’dgivenuphoping
forthatlongbeforethisanyway.

Theonlythingkeepingmesomewhatsanewaswriting.Ikeptajournalaboutmylifeandfeelings.

I wrote down my fears and the things I’ve never told anyone before. Mostly I wrote about how much I
missed my sister. I know a part of her still lives within me, but it’s not Brice. I’ll never feel her love
again.

MonthsagoIbeganwritingletterstoWest.I’dstaredatthephotographofthatPOBoxsomany

timesI’dmemorizedit.Notexpectinganythinginreturn,IfoundreprievewitheachoneIsent.Sometimes
I’dtalkaboutmyday,andotherlettersI’dwritestoriesaboutBrice.I’dmakeheraprincessandhimthe
stable boy. I’d give them a reason to fight to be together and they’d get the happy ending they both
deserved.ThenIdecidedtochangethingsaround.EverythingIwritenowistheirlifeifsheneverdied.I
gavethemaproperwedding,withallthedetailsshe’dtalkedabout.I’dwriteaboutthemvacationing,and

raisingafamily.I’ddomybesttowriteaboutsomethingthatwouldputasmilenotonlyonmyface,but
West’stoo.Ifthatdidn’tworkatleastitwouldremindhimoftheneverendinglovetheyshared.Iwasn’t
sending them to him for forgiveness. I was doing it to connect to someone who loves my sister just as
muchasIdo.Hemaygetthem.Hemaynot.

If he does, he’ll probably stop reading them. I could be sending them to a stranger, who is

entertainedbymycraziness.Whateverthecase,theyhelpme.They’retheonlythingthatdoes.

Speakingofmail…
Justlastweekmymommetmeanddeliveredsomemailthatwassenttoherhouse.Therewasan

envelopefrommylawyercontainingthefirstinstallmentofanongoingsettlement.Thedrunkdriverlived,
andmyinsurancewentafterhim.Hewaschargedasacriminalformanslaughter.I’mnotgoingtoberich
byanymeans,butitwilltemporarilygetmeoutofthebackseatofmycaratnight.SoonI’llhavetoleave
town to look for a job, because I doubt anyone will hire me. People are too nosey on this little island.
Everyoneknowsyourbusiness.Idon’tbelonganywhere.

It’sfunny.I’veneverbeenthetypeofpersontocontemplatesuicide.Iembracedlifeandliveditto

the fullest, always searching for a good time. I’m in my early twenties and I feel like I’m ninety.
Everythinghurts.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIsmiled.TheonlythingIdoknowisthateventuallywe
alldie,exceptinmycaseI’llbeallalone.

Chapter15
Kimber

It’saFriday.IheadtothebankfirstthingtomakesurethecheckI’vereceivedisdeposited.Since

I’mnotsurewhereI’mgoingtobeinthenearfuture,Iopttostayatamotelontheisland.It’snothing
fancy. Shitty room, with even shittier amenities. They have a bar, and under normal circumstances I’d
avoidit,buttodayIwanttositbackandcelebratetheonlygoodthingIhavegoingforme.TonightI’m
goingtosleepinabedwithfourwallssurroundingme.I’mgoingtobaskinwhitesheetsandthisugly
dated floral bedding and an extremely long hot shower. I’m going to relish in cable television, and
probablyorderapizzathatI’llfinishforbreakfast.Ijustwantonedaytogogood.

Emptyingmycarandfillingmynewtemporaryroomfeelsgreat.Fornowit'smine.Ihaveaspace

whereIcanrestandbealone,butalsoshower.I'vebeenonlygoingtomyparent'shousewhenIknew
neitherwouldbestoppingby.Beingtherebringsbackallthememories.Ioftensinkdowntotheshower
floor and weep. Mom says to go back to my shrink, but she can't bring back my sister, nor can she
magicallymakemyparentsshowmetheystillloveme.I'vebeentemptedtoaskonoccasion,butterrified
ofwhattheywillsay.

SinceIdon'thavemuch,itonlytakesthreetripstoemptymycar.DadkeepsmentioningthatIneed

topayinsurance.IguessIcanafforditnow.

Sittingontheharddoublemattress,Itakemyjournalfromtheknapsacknexttomeandstareata

blankpage.

I'vebeencountingthedayssinceBricehasbeengoneinsteadofusingadate.Istareatthenumber,

feelingasiftimeisskippingby.

Whenthepenpressestothepaper,Iwantwordstocome.Theydon't.Nothingcomestome.I'm

drawingblank.It'slikeI'mnumbandunableexpressanything.

MaybeIneedtobecommitted.It'sprobablythesmartthingtodo.AtleastthenI'dhavepeopleto

talkto.Someofthemmightevencareaboutmywellbeing.

Truthbetold,Ithinkmyparentsneedprofessionalhelpaswell.They'relostintheirownmisery

andwithoutbeingabletocommunicatethey'veturnedbitteragainstoneanother.I'dgiveanythingtohave
someonetosharemyfeelingswith.Anyone.I'dtalktoacompletestrangerifIwasabletofindoneinthis
smallgodforsakentown.

Goodthingformethereisamotelbar,withenoughalcoholtoensureI'llgetagoodnightsleep.
It'sfunny,Iusedtodrinkforthefunofit.Nowit'slikemedicationformysoul.Afewglassesof

wineandI'mreadyforbed.Mentallythepainremains,butforalittlewhileitshieldsmefromdwelling

onit.

I no sooner step into the bar when I'm carded. Five years younger than my sister, I've always

thoughtwelookedtobecloserinage.BeingtwentyfourjustmeansIcouldbegraduatedfromcollegeby
now.IcouldhaveadegreeandmakesomethingofmylifeifIputforththeeffort.Droppingoutofschool
mademyparentsangrier.AftertheaccidentIcouldn'treturn.Myfocuswasn'tthere.Itstillisn't.

Thebartendertakesmyorderandpoursaglassofred.Iraiseit."Fiveo'clocksomewhereright?"
It'snotevenlunchtime,butI'msotiredallIwanttodoissleepuntiltomorrow.
WithafreshheadI'llbeabletolookforjobsandfigureoutwhatI'mgoingtodowithmylife.
I'mlookingaroundtheplacewhenInoticeahelpwantedsign.AsmuchasIloathetheidea,thisis

thelastplaceanyonewhoknowsmewouldhangout.Thisisn'twherethelocalscomeforadrink.They
gototheWallacebarandrestaurant.Thisplaceisforpasserby’swhocan'taffordtostayinanicehotel.
It'scheapandwithinwalkingdistanceofAssateagueislandwherethewildponiesandbeachesare.It's
also where the local lowlifes reside. I suppose I'm one of them now, minus the addictions, criminal
records and a general lack of morals. I might have a chance at getting hired here. Against my better
judgment,Iwavetothebartendertogethisattention.He'sanolderman,probablyinhissixties.Hislarge
belly shows off the wording on the Harley Davidson shirt likes it's popping out. The guy is covered in
tattoosandthey'repoorlydonetoo.They’renotlikemine;theonesthathidemyscars.He'sgotaneagle
onhisforearmandacrossaboveit.Hisbushyfaceissaltandpepperandwhenhesmileshe'smissinga
couplebottomteethinthefront."CanIhelpyou?"

Ipointtothesign."Thejob.Isitstillavailable?DoIneedtoseethemanager?"
"Iowntheplace.Evertendedbar?"
"Notprofessionally."
Hepointstome."You'dbegoodforbusinesswiththoselooks."
Irollmyeyes."Seriously?Youcouldn'tpaymetothankyouforthatcrapcomment.YouandIboth

knowthisplaceisashithole.I'velivedheremywholelife.Webothknowthekindofvisitorsyoucater
to.I'mstayingatthemotel.I'vepaidforthemonth.Transportationwon'tbeanissue.Icanworkallhours,
andnotthatyou'llneeditforthisplace,butIhaveacleanrecord."

Imayhavebeentakentothestation,butmydadgotmeoffofanytroubleIusedtogetinto.
"You'vegotasmartmouthonya."
Ifinishthefirstglassofwine."OnlywhenIneedit."
"Tomorrow.Behereateleven.Ifyoucanhandlethatcrowdyou'vegotthejob."
Ifinallysmile."Deal.Howaboutarefill?"
Just as I suspected, the two glasses of wine does me in. In the time it takes me to consume the

beverages,IlearnthattheownerisnamedOtis,andifIdecidetostickaroundforlongerthanamonth
he’lltakemoneyoffmyrentforbeinganemployee.Healsotellsmethereareacouplecleaningladiesin
the building, but no maintenance man. Otis says he does all the repairs himself, which explains the
horrible,outdateddécorandlacklusterappearance.Sayinggoodbyetothisguyisn’teasy.Hewon’tshut
up.Thankfully,Ispotacouplecominginthatsoontakestheattentionoffofme.Iscurryoutofthereand
findmyroom,whereIquicklylockboththedeadboltandchain.Then,becauseI’mbeingparanoid,Istart
checkingtheroomforhiddencameras.WhenIcomeupwithnothingIfallonthebedandlaughatmyself.
Nowtired,Istareattheceilingandletthewineworkit’smagic.Iwon’tsleepthroughthenight,butafew
hourswillbeagreatachievement.

Maybethingsaregoingtolookup.Ihavesomemoney,aplacetostay,andanewjob.Noneoff

thiswillmakemyparentsproudofme,butatleastI’mmakingprogresswithmylife.

Chapter16
Weston


I’ve been staring at the two envelopes for several days. There’s not much else to do when the

cabiniscoveredinsnow.There’snotellingwhenthismadnesswillend.Theonlyonehappyaboutthisis
Bee.She’dstayoutinthewhitestuffforhoursifIlether.NickisoutsomewhereontheBeringSea,and
theonlythingheaskedmetodowhilehe’sgoneiscutsomefirewood.I’vedonethatforeverydaysince
heleft.Nowthesatelliteitout,andI’mgettingsickofplayingvideogameswhileBeerollsaroundlike
she’sattentiondeprived.“Whatdoyouthink,girl?ShouldIreadthem?”

Ofcourseshebarks.LeaveittothedogtoguidemetodosomethingI’mtryingtotalkmyselfout

of.

Takingoneoftheenvelopesintomygrasp,Iprythesealandretractthepaperfromwithin.The

familiarwritingcatchesmyeyeasIunfoldthecontents.Idon’tknowwhythisgetstomethewayitdoes.
Changingthewayyoulookatthingschangeshowtheyactuallyappear.

When I received the first letter I reacted the way anyone would have, put in the same situation.

I’ve never liked Kimber, so for her to write me a letter rubbed me the wrong way. Now I’m sort of
melancholy. I don’t have any feelings but curiosity. Maybe it’s because the letters have become
monotonous.It’spossiblethatmygiveashitbuttonbrokeawhileback.Atanyrate,I’mlookingdownat
thehandwritingandseeingmorethanthenoteitself.

Ibeginthefirstone.

West:
I don’t know if you’ll get this. These letters are more for me than they are anyone else, but

you’retheonlyotherpersonintheworldI’deversharethemwith.Ihaven’tgottenresponsetoanyof
them,soyou’reprobablynoteveninAlaska,andsomestrangerisreadingtheselettersthinkingI’m
somecrazykidwithavividimaginationforstorywriting.

ThisisthestoryIworkedonthisweek.Istarteditmonthsago,butitbecametooemotionalto

finishatthetime.

Title:
TheWeddingofWestonWallaceandBriceCarpenter

Thecoolspringbreezesendsachillupherlongoffwhitedresswithpearltrimmings.Luckily

it’ssoheavyitdoesn’tshowofftheflatssheinsistedonwearing.Brice’shairisupinabraidedand
curledup-do,withseveralspiralcurlsescapingfromthefront.It’squiteobviouswhoeverstyleditfor
thedayaccountedfortheheavywindsonthesmallcoastalisland.

Acongregationoflovedonessitsinwhitefoldedseatsoneithersideofamanagedaisle.Soft

musicplayswhiletheonlookerstakeinherbeautyforthefirsttime.Sheresemblesaporcelaindollin
allherglory.She’sglowingwithanticipation.Thisisthedayshe’sbeenwaitingforeverfor.It’stheday
she’sgoingtomarrytheloveofherlife,WestonWallace.

Theaudiencelooksupwhentheyhearhiscall.He’ssayinghernamefromatopthelighthouse.

She’shisJuliet,andheherRomeo.Theirloveisinfiniteandtodaythey’llpledgeitinfrontofeveryone
inattendance.

Weston disappears in the lighthouse. While the crowd waits, the music begins to change. The

Wedding March begins and Brice begins to make her way to the front doors of the lighthouse where
she’llmeetthemansheloves.

He’s out of breath and sweaty, but never looked more handsome. He’s wearing the charcoal

tuxedoshepickedoutforthisevent.Eventhoughhehatesgettingdressedup,Westwoulddoanything
to please his beloved. Taking her hand the moment he’s close enough, a gentle kiss is placed on the
back of Brice’s hand. It’s a simple gesture she finds beautifully romantic. He’s always doing little
thingsthatmakeherswoon.Nowbacktofacingoneanother,thepreacherapproachesandwelcomes
everyonetothismemorablecelebration.

Brice and Weston know that in a short amount of time they’ll be wed. They’ll be one. Their

hearts forever bonded by law. The baby growing inside of her belly will be a symbol of their never
endingloveforeachother.Whenheorsheisbornthey’llhavethefamilytheyplanned.

Mouthingthewords‘Iloveyou’WestholdsontobothofBrice’shandsandpreparestosayhis

ownvows.

I have to stop reading. My hands are clammy and shaking, and as I rescan the beginning again I

can’thelpbutthinkKimberhadtalkedtoBriceaboutthisday.Thedetails.Whatshehasmewearing.The
designoftheoffwhitedressthatBricepointedouttoJamieinoneofherweddingmagazines.Beingatthe
lighthouseandhavingmecomedownfromabove.It’sallthere.

Ibringmyhandagainstmystressedgrimace.
Whywouldshedothis?Whywouldshewriteastoryabouthersister’sdreamweddingandsend

ittome?Isshebeingcruel?IsthistoremindmeofwhatI’llneverhaveback?

BeforeIcanoverreactandstartmakingthreateningphonecalls,Itearopenthesecondletterand

lookitthrough.

West:
Ireallyhopethesearebeingdeliveredtoyou.Iknowyou’llneverwriteback.Idon’texpectto

hearfromyou.LikeIsaidinmypreviousletters,Ijustwanttosharethesestorieswithsomeonewho
missesBriceasmuchasIdo.WhenIwriteaboutheritalmostmakesmefeellikeshe’sstillhere.My
lifeisinshambles.Idon’thavefriends.Iknowyouhateme.It’sneverbeenasecret.Webothshareone
thingincommon.

OurloveforBrice.Imisshereverysecondofeveryday.That’swhyIcan’tstopwriting.Ineed

her to live on through the words. This keeps her close. I hope you can understand, and hope that at
leastoneoftheselettersI’vesenthavegivenyouahappymemory.Shealwayswentonandonabout
yoursmile.

Mystorytodayisaboutthat.

Title:
Brice’sBadDay

Herpatientswereinrareformthroughouttheafternoon.Herstresslevelwastothemax.She’s

strokingbothtempleswhenherhusbandwalksthroughthedoor.Whenshedoesn’tnoticeheclearshis
throat,whileapproachingthedeskwithahotcupofherfavoriteflavorlatte.Inhisbackpocketisa
pairoftickets.Whenthey’replacedonherdesksheglancesthenlooksbacktohimwithahugesmile.
“Really?”

“TwoticketstothesoldoutconcertcourtesyofthebestoystermeninChincoteague.”
“Howdidyougetthese?”
Westshrugs.“Probablymycharm.ItcouldalsobehowhandsomeIam,orthefactthatI’mall

aroundawesome.Takeyourpick.”

Shetapsonherdesk,tryingdesperatelytofigureouthowWestevenknewaboutthisparticular

musicgroup.“YouspokewithKimberdidn’tyou?Shecouldn’tkeepitasecret.”

“Shewantedyoutohavethemforyourbirthday,soImighthavewentonlinethesecondthey

wereonsaleandsnaggedthem.Youcanthankmelater.”

Briceshovesthefilesoffherwoodendeskandgesturesforhimtocomecloser.“No,I’mgoing

tothankyourightnow.”

Istopreading,eventhoughIcanalreadytellshe’sleftnodetails.Thisoneisn’tasemotionalas

the one before it. It makes me smile and blush, because in a lot of ways it’s really how our life was.
Before I know what’s happening I’m picturing the scene out in my head until it ends with Brice and I
tangledineachother’sarms.

Bee’sbarksnapsmeoutofit.Iscantheroomuntilmyeyesfallbackontheletters.Ionlyhave

two. She’s probably sent fifty by now and I trashed every one of them. I could have thrown away fifty
morestoriesaboutmylifewithBricebecauseIwasbeingastubbornprick.

HowcouldIhaveknownthey’dbethissignificant?Kimberwasalwaysaselfishlittlebrat.She’s

thereasonBriceisgone.I’veblamedherthiswholetime,neveronceconsideringwhatitmustbelikefor
everythingtofallapartforher.

Idon’twanttotalktoher.Irefusetowriteherback,butIknowthenexttimealettercomesI’m

readingitimmediately.Theymaybeafantasy,buttheybelongtome.It’swhatmylifewouldhavebeen
like.It’sabitstrangeKimberisbehindit,butatthesametimeI’mglad,becausesheknewBriceenough
togetthedetailsright.ForjustafewminutesIgottobewithheragain,atleastintheory.

Ireadtheweddingsceneinit’sentiretyatleastfivetimes.
An hour later I’m still obsessed with the heartfelt story. Kimber gave me something I’ve lost. I

knowthey’renotreal,butit’sascloseasIcangettobeingwithBriceagain.

InsteadofwaitingforNicktogetback,Iventureintotownoncethesnowletsup.I’veneverbeen

moreeagerformailinmylife.AtfirstI’mdisappointed.Thepostofficeboxisempty,butjusttobesureI
goinsidetheofficetomakecertainIhaveeverythingthey’vereceivedfortheday.

Low and behold the carrier comes back with two articles. One of them is a personal envelope

addressedtome.

Idon’twaituntilI’mbackatthecabintotearitopenandreadit.Whilestillsittingintheparking

lotwithBeeintheseatnexttome,IripthepaperuntilIcanpulloutthefoldednote.

Skippingoverthebasicgreetingastheothers,Igettothenextstory.


Title:
BriceandWestGetaPuppy

Todayistheday.Bricehasbeenupsincethecrackofdawnbecausesheknowshowfarsheand

Westwillhavetodrivetopickuptheirnewfamilymember,whichhappenstohavefourlegs.They’ve
picked out the larger breed because both of them love to be active. The St Bernard has always been
Brice’sfavoritebreed.Shedidn’tknowitwasgoingtohappenuntilWestoncamehomefromworkthe
daybeforewithasurprise.Hefoundherinthekitchenstirringapotofpastawithheroppositehand
holdingherlargebabybump.Hisarmswraparoundthatroundabdomenuntilhe’sholdingontoher
andabletokissthesideofhernecktenderly.“Hey,babe.Imissedyoutoday.”

Brice stops what she’s doing and gives him her full attention. Her arms come up behind his

back and they kiss passionately, like it’s been weeks since they’ve seen one another. When she pulls
awayherlipsareshinyandsheallsmiles.“Imissedyoutoo.”

Westwastesnotimewiththesurprise,becauseheknowsBricehatessecrets.Shehasahabitof

spoilingsurprisesandthenfeelingbadforitafterithappens.

WestonpullsouthisphoneandbringsupapictureofaSaintBernardpuppy.“There’sonemale

left,babe.Itoldthemwecouldbetherebylunchtimetomorrow.It’saboutafourhourdrive.”

Hereyeslightupwithexcitement.“Areyouforreal?”
“Youknowit.Whatdoyousay?Wanttobringthislittleguyintoourlivesandspoilhimwith

loveandalittlekidtoplaywith?”

She’snodding.Tearsarefallingdownhercheeks.“Yes.Definitelyyes.”
WestontakesBriceintoanembracewhereheplacessoftkissesontopofherhead.Shenestles

her face under the nape of his neck and breathes in the scent of his body wash. It’s musky and
masculine,likesomekindofwoodandmahogany.It’sanunmistakablecombinationthatremindsher
oftheoutdoorsandbeinginlove.“Whatshouldwenamehim?”

“WhataboutNelson?”
Herfacescrunchesasshebeginsshakingit.“No.That’llneverdo.Heneedsastrongname.”
“Tyson?”
“Soundslikeabiter,”shesayswithagiggle.
“Yeah.WhataboutTitus?”
Shesnickers.“WhataboutTitan?Likeafterthesea?That’spowerfulandcute.”
“Titansoundslikeagoodmatch.IknewIcouldcountonyou,babe.”
“Keepcallingmebabeandwe’llhavetoleaveabitlater,”Bricetaunts.
“Youdon’thavetothreatenmetwice.Comeon.”
I’mlaughingasthestoryends.It’slikeKimbergetsmyinputwhenshe’swritingthese,because

she knows what I’d say. I may be crazy. It’s possible being alone for some time after a great loss has
cloudedmyabilitytothinkrationally.MaybeI’mgluttonforpunishment.Whateverthecase.IfeellikeI
needthesestoriestokeepcoming,becauseIhaven’tlookedforwardtoanythinginthepastyearlikeIdo
whenIreadthem.

Chapter17
Kimber

Alotcanchangeinaperson’slifeintheblinkofeye.Peopleassumethingsaboutme,andmaybe

theyweretrueinthepast,butnottoday.TodayIstareintoamirrorandseesomeoneIbarelyknow.My
faceisalittlefuller,probablyfromallthejunkIputintomybody.Mylittleefficiencykitchengivesme
the creeps. I’m afraid if I turn on the stove I’ll burn the whole place down. My hair is longer now, the
streaksIusedtohaveareallfadedaway.Ican’taffordtogotoastylistlikeIusedto,soIkeepitmy
naturaldarkbrown.Myskinseemspale,andIknowit’sbecauseI’vebeenlivinglikeavampire.Isleep
duringthedayandventureouttoworkatnight.It’snottheidealsituation,butitkeepsmeoutofthepublic
eye.Inolongerfindmyselfrunningintolocalswhoknowmystory.Thingshavesettledinthepastcouple
monthsI’vebeenbartendingatthemotel,andI’veevenmademylittlespacefeelhomey,likethebedsetI
purchasedattheDollarGeneral,ortheflannelsheetsIhadtohavefortheirsoftness.Iliketosleepwith
theloudair-conditioningcrankeduptokeepfromhearingmyneighborsfight.They’vebeenknowntogo
at it for days. Usually I fall asleep with my ear buds jammed in and at a volume that won’t ruin my
hearing.Isleepwiththetelevisionon.Itmakesmefeellessalone,andIamalone,ineverysenseofthe
word.

Ibarelyspeaktomymother,andmyfatherisawholeotherstory.Hehasn’tgivenmeasinglecall

sincehemovedofftheisland.Momsayshe’sseeinganex-coworker,butshelikestogossipforsomething
toappeasehertime,soItakeitwithagrainofsalt.WhenIdoseehershetellsmeIlookterrible.Istill
haven’t told her where I live or what I do to make money. Knowing her she probably assumes it’s
somethingelicit.It’sfunny.Imayservedrunksforaliving,butthey’renicetome.They’reeasytotalkto,
mostly because they don’t know me and won’t remember the conversation the next day. It’s the closest
I’vecometohavingfriends.

I know it’s sad. I cry a lot when I’m alone. Since I can’t afford health care, I’m unable to buy

medicationfordepressionorevencontemplategoingtotalktoaprofessional.Timesaretoughforme,but
I’m making it work. I’m doing my best with what I’ve been handed. Maybe this is the punishment for
being a spoiled brat my whole life. Maybe this is my torture for ruining my sister’s future. If that’s the
caseI’llgladlytakeit.I’velearnedthislifeI’mlivingisbetterthansomehaveeverhad.Iusedtofeel
entitled,butnowI’mgratefulforeverysinglehardearnedpennyImake.I’mabletopayformyroomand
mycarinsurance.Mymini-fridgeisstockedwithmyfavoritefoods,whichmayormaynotallbefrozen
mealsthatIletthawsotheycookfaster.

DuringmyofftimeInormallysitforhoursandwrite.Sometimes,ifI’mupwhenit’sdaylight,I’ll

drivetothebeach,whichisonlyamilefromthemotel,andspendtimesittingonthesandwhilethinking

ofnewideastowriteabout.Theweatherhasgottenwarmer.Soonthetownwillbefilledwithtourists,
and I’ll make more tips than the scrawny amount I manage now. I’ve already decided I’m going to surf
again.I’llneverforgettheyearBricegottheboardforChristmas.Shewantedtotakeitoutrightaway,in
thefrigidoceanwateralone.Wecouldn’twaituntilspringcame.Momgotusmatchingwetsuitsfromthe
localShoalShop.Weputthemonandtookturnsuntilweeachfiguredouthowtostandwithoutfalling.It
tookmanyattemptsandlotsofweekendswheremymothersatprayingwewouldn’tkillourselves,butwe
eventuallygotit.Iwasfirst,whichsurprisedthem,becauseIwasfiveyearsyounger.

BricetoldmeIwasanatural.ShesaidIcoulduseherboardwheneverIwanted.Iknowit’sstill

in the shed where she and West kept theirs. One day I’ll go over and get it. I’ll spend a morning out
beyond the waves, reminiscing of the way life was when we had everything to look forward to. Just
thinking about her that way causes me to cry. God I miss her. I need her more than I’ve ever needed
anything.There’saconstantholeinmyheart,andachethatwillneverbefilled.I’vegottenusedtobeing
sad. There comes a point when giving up is the only option. I’ve reached that point and gone beyond.
There’sablackcloudhangingovermeandIwouldn’tdarewanttobringanyoneunderitwithme.Thisis
myburden.MaybeonedayI’llhaveapurposeagain.Fornow,Ijustkeepmoving.It’stheonlythingIcan
do.

Chapter18
Weston

It’stimetomakethetrektoVirginia.I’vehadthetruckserviced,packedupmythingsI’llneed,

and prepared Bee for the long adventure. Mapping out the route first gave me a lot of choices for our
stops.Thefourthousandmilejourneywilltakemeatleastaweek,probablymore.I’mgoingtosightsee
onmyway.There’snotimelimit.Ihaven’ttoldthefamilyI’mreturning,becausefranklyI’mnotsureit’s
whereIwanttobeyet.AllIknowisIoweittomyselftovisit.Theydon’tdeservetobeshutoutbecause
I’mhurting.Livinginanotherstateisn’tgoingtochangethefactthatBriceisn’tevercomingback.I’ve
hadtimetoadjust,andinmyownwayI’vehandleditbetterthanthefirsttimearoundwhenIlostMom.
Sure,thebottlehasbeenadearfriend,andI’mcertaininmylifeit’salwaysgoingtobe.Sometimeswe
allneedtoforget,oratleastnumbtheneverendingdesolatepainthatcomeswithloss.

Weatherpermitting,IhopetoleaveAlaskabytheearlypartofnextweek.Nickhastakenmeout

twice,becauseaccordingtohimIwon’tbereturning.Hethinksit’stimeIgetbacktomy‘real’lifeand
stophidingoutatthefarthestendsofthecountry.Maybehe’sright.Ihavemissedeveryone,andasmuch
asIfearbeingclosetothecherishedmemorieswithBrice,Ican’thideforever.

It’sunknownhowBeewillbeonacross-countryventure.Shelovestorideinthetruck,butthisis

taking things to extremes. We leave bright and early on a Monday morning. Snow still remains on the
peaksofthemountains,butmostoftheareahasbeguntothawout.SinceIflewmostofthewaytoAlaska,
IwasneverabletoexperiencethebeautyofCanada.Idriveforagoodtenhoursbeforewestopforthe
night.Oncewe’recheckedintoapetfriendlyhotel,BeeandIgetcomfortableinakingsizedbed.Idon’t
knowhowshesleepssomuch,butthedogisoutthesecondshehitsthesheets.Ireachintooneofmybags
andpulloutsomeofthelettersfromKimber.I’vekepteveryonesinceIrealizedwhattheywere.Iknow
it’scrazy,butapartofmeappreciatesthemmorethananysortofsupportI’vegottensincetheaccident.I
mayneverknowwhyshesentthemtome.MaybeIdon’tevenwanttoknow.Forwhatit’sworth,they
helped in a small way. I wouldn’t be making the trek home if not for the ability to smile about what I
sharedwithBrice.Kimbermayhavebeenthereasonshewentoutthatnight,butIcan’tblameherforthe
drunkdriverwhohitthem.RegardlesshowIfeelabouther,IknowBricewouldn’twanthersisterbeing
blamed. According to her letters the girl has lost everything. I was surprised to learn her parents were
divorcing. I never pegged them wanting to go their separate ways, so it’s most likely a result of losing
Brice. She was special to so many people. Going home will be hard. People are going to want to talk
abouther,andIthinkafterayearandahalfI’mpreparedforit.Imissher,andmaybeinordertokeepher
aliveinmyheartIneedtobeabletocommunicateaboutit.

WhenIfirstleftAlaskaitsaiditwouldtakeroughlyseventyhoursofdriving.Thirteendayslater

I’mfinallyatthebridgethattakesmeintoChincoteague.Thelargebillboardsontheleftsidedisplaythe
businessesontheisland.OneevenmentionsDad’srestaurant,namedaftermylatemother.It’shumblingto
be somewhere I would know without sight. Instead of heading down Maddox Blvd in the direction of
OysterCove,ImakearightonMainandtakeitthroughtown.MyhouseIsharedwithBriceisonlyafew
streetsin.Imakealeftandparkinfrontoftheoldtwostoryhome.Mybrothershavebeenmowingthe
lawnandkeepingupwiththeexterior.Theoutsideshutterslooklikethey’vejustbeenpaintedafreshcoat
ofblack.Thenauticalbluesidingwereplacedwhenweboughttheplacestilllooksnew.Thematching
mailboxsitsattheedgeofthesidewalk.Irememberitsittingonthekitchentablewhilewedecorateditto
match.ShelaughedbecausewhenwedrewinthewindowsIwantedtoputlittlepeoplestaringout.The
thoughtdrawsasmiletomyface.

Beeisanxioustogetoutandrelieveherself,butI’mnotreadytowalkthroughthedoorsofthis

houseyet.IpullawaybeforeI’mspottedlurking.Insteadweventuretothebeach.Normallyshewouldn’t
beallowed,butIknowtherangersandit’stoocoldfortourists.Besides,I’lltakehertothesidewhere
therearen’tmuchrulesorlifeguards.

Beehasneverseentheocean.Atfirstshestandsonamoundofsandandtakesinthescenery.She

studies the water, watching each wave come in and trickle down to nothing. The sun is peeking out of
some heavy clouds making it glisten against the water in the distance. While I take in a place I missed
being around, she makes a beeline for the water. At first she seems to struggle, but finally times it just
right.Isitdownandwatchherfrolicintheshallowparts.Shejumpsaroundandthenrunsout,onlytogo
backandrepeatthesteps.I’mlaughingatherenjoyingherself,reminiscingonthelasttimeIcamehere
withBrice.

We used to surf on the weekends. We’d get up before daybreak and be out when the sun rose

against the skyline. We’d also come in the evenings and cook on a campfire right near this spot on the
beach. Knowing the park employees has it’s perks. We spent a couple nights curled up in one sleeping
bag, doing things that could probably get us arrested if the right authorities stumbled upon us. Another
smileexhibitsatthethought.

“Imissyou,babe,”Isayasthewindwhips.“Everysingleday.”
Afistofsandkeepsmeoccupied.Iballitupandthenletitfall,overandover,likeBriceusedto

dowhenshewaslisteningtometalk.Iusedtoaskherifshesomehowusedittotimeourconversations,
likeashrinkwouldnormallydo.She’dtossthesandatmeandI’dendupchasingherarounduntilwe
tumbled and started making out. Those were the days I’ll cherish. Even before we were officially a
couple.

Beeissoakedwhenwegetbackinthetruck.It’snottoocold,soIdecidetoputherintheback

untilshe’sabletoshakeoffanddry.ItakemytimeleavingAssateagueandheadbacktoChincoteague.As
soonasI’moffthebridgeIcometothelocaldinerandtheoldmotelwithabar.SinceBeesmellslikea
seacreature,andthelocalhotelsdon’twelcomepets,myoptiontocleanheroffbeforegoingtoOyster
Coveistogetaroom.IfigureIcanshower,andgiveherabath,thengrabafewbeerswhileshedriesin
theroom.Afatburlymanisatthefrontdesk.Hehastoclearhisvoicethreetimesbeforehe’sableto
welcomeme.Itreeksofstalecigarettesmokeandeitherasteaksub,orbadbodyodor.I’mnotcertainI
wanttoknow.

Hegivesmeasecondfloorroomandtellsmethetimeofcheckoutinthemorning.IdoubtI’llbe

sleepinginthisshithole,soIdon’treallypayattention.

BeeandIentertheroomandimmediatelyheadtothebathroom.I’dcarriedinmyknapsackfullof

achangeofclothesandsomeessentialsliketoiletries.Beefollowsmeintothebathroomandproceedsto
joinmeintheshower.Pictureanowhundredpounddogandagrownmaninashowertubcombination.
I’m wedged in a corner while she wags her thick tail around that’s still caked with sand. Deciding it

wouldbeinbothourfavorsifIwashherfirst,Istartthetask.Shehasalotofhair.It’stoughtowashher,
andittakeswaymorethansamplesizeshampoostogetitdone.LuckyformeIplannedahead.Ipullout
thelargebottleofmen’sscentedshampooandlatherherup.ThenItakemytimerinsingherandmaking
sureIdon’tfeelremnantsofsandthatmightitchherlater.Wesleepinthesamebed,soIappreciateher
beingascleanaspossible.It’sprobablywhyshelovestogetbaths.Shegetsthemoften.

Whenshe’sdoneIdryheroffwithatowel,closethebathroomdoorandlethershakewhileIhop

backintheshowerprayingthewaterstayshot.IknowI’mnottechnicallyatOysterCove,butI’mbackon
the island. It feels nice. A part of me is eager to see my family. I understand subjects are going to be
touchy,andI’mgoingtohavemomentswhereIneedtostepawaytogathercomposure.I’vehadayear
andahalftoprepare.It’ssortoflikeIwentonasabbatical.InmanywaysIlefttofindmyself.MaybeI
did.MaybeI’mstillthesameexactpersonwholeft.Itdoesn’tmatter.I’mback.Onlytimewilltellifit’s
permanently.IcouldgobacktoAlaskaandbuildthatcabineasily.I’dhavetoworklessandwouldhave
afreshstart,orIcouldbeherewhereeverymemorywasmade.

Showeredanddressed,ImakesureBeehasbeenfedbeforewalkingovertothemotelbar.Iknow

Icoulddrinkforfreeatmystep-mother’stavern,butIsortofneedtoprepareforseeingthem.Planningon
sittingalone,Iwalkinandimmediatelytakeaseatatthebar.Thereareseveralpatronsalreadyspread
out.IscantheroomandtakeinthecharactersI’msharingtheroomwith.Mostprobablylivehere.It’snot
thebestplace.WhenIwasyoungerwe’dsneakinhereandgetserved.They’vesincechangedhands,soI
have no idea what kind of crowds they attract, but from what I can tell it’s not the locals who frequent
Alice’sbar.

Afemalebartenderisshufflingaroundacoupleboxesfrombehindaseethroughdoor.Icantell

they’re full of cases of beer from the clanking of the bottles. While she’s preoccupied, I check out the
selections on tap to see if they offer any local brews or lagers. I’m not surprised the selections are
limited.ReservedtodrinkwhateverisavailableIwaittobeserved.

I’mstaringdownatmyphonewhenherpalmsflattenonthesurfaceinfrontofme.Myeyeslift

untilI’mlookingataghost.

Thiscan’tbe.Theresemblanceisuncanny.Iclosemyeyesandlookagain,thinkingthestressof

mytripmixedwithfearhasgotmeseeingthings.

Thefemalesmouthopens,hereyesaswideasmine.“Noway.Itcan’tbe.”
Iknowthatvoice.AsitpiecestogetherIcometogripswithwhatI’mseeing.She’schangedher

appearance,butthensohaveI.MyfaceiscoveredinabeardandIcoulduseahaircut.It’sobviousshe’s
justasshockedasIam.“Kimber?”

“West?”
Shetakesastepbackandseemstobeworried.“Whendidyougetback?”
“Acouplehoursago.”
“Howdidyoufindme?”
OfcourseshethinksI’minthisbarbecauseI’mlookingforher.WhyelsewouldanyonethinkI’d

avoid the one my own family owns. “I wasn’t looking for you. Just wanted a drink before the big
reunion.”

There’s an awkward silence. It’s weird, because for the past year I’ve been getting letters from

this girl, but she’s acting like a stranger. “I just assumed…” she says while looking away at the other
patrons.“WhatcanIgetyou?”

“Gotanythinglocal?”
Shenods.“Ihavesomestuffintheback.”Withthatshedisappears,onlycomingbackwithacold

bottlewithafamiliarlabel.“Isthisgood?”

“Yeah,thanks.”
She nods, but walks away, almost like being around me makes her uncomfortable. I snicker to

myselfandstartdrinking,becauselet’sfaceit,Ihavenoideawhattosaytoher,andtalkingaboutBriceis
offlimits.

Kimberstaysattheoppositeendofthebar,talkingtothepeopleasifsheknowsthempersonally.

Twooldmenseemtobeflirtingwithher,whilesherefillstheirdrinkswithafriendlysmile.

Eitherherentireappearancehaschanged,orI’mseeingthings.Shelookslikehersister,butatthe

sameshedoesn’t.Herhairismuchlonger,andshe’swaytoothin.Shecouldstandtoputonsomeweight.
Where she used to have an olive complexion is now almost as white as the Alaskan snow. She’s got
circles under her eyes, and I swear she seems melancholy. Maybe it’s because I’m here, but something
tellsmethisisherlifenow.

ThereweretimeswhenItreatedherlikeshit.ShewasalwaystryingtointerferewithplansI’d

makewithhersister.She’dcallwhenwewerehavingamoment,orgivemeoneofherfamouseyerolls
whenI’dmakeacommentabouthergrowingup.It’slikeI’mstaringattheshellofthatperson.Asmuch
asI’mstillbitteraboutthenightoftheaccident,IpitythepersonI’mlookingat.She’sstillattractive,but
thepastyearandahalfhaven’tbeengoodtoher,I’dbetmylifeonit.

Chapter19
Kimber

This isn’t happening right now. Weston Wallace isn’t sitting at my bar having a drink. He’s not

lookingatmerightnowwithskepticisms.I’mimaginingallofthis.Ihavetobe.

Theletters.AllthosestupidstoriesIsenttohimwereamistake.Ishouldn’thavepouredmyheart

outtoamanwhonevergavetwoshitsaboutme.NowI’mforcedtostandbehindthisbarembarrassed.
HeprobablythinksI’minsane.It’sbadenoughIknowhedoesn’tlikeme.Nowit’stentimesworse.

When he waves for another drink I saunter over and grab the same beverage before sitting it in

frontofhim.“Didyouwantsomepeanuts?”

“Haveguyslikethathadtheirhandsinthem?”
Alightlaughescapesme.“Um,no.I’dgetyouafreshpackofthem.They’rebagged.”
“Thenyeah,that’llbegreat.”
Ihavetoremindmyselftoremainprofessional.He’sheretodrink,nothaveaheartoheartwith

me.WhenIdeliverthebagofpeanutsIstarttowalkaway.It’sbetterifIkeepmydistance.Hereaches
overandtakesmebymywrist.“Kimberwait.”

OureyesmeetandIcantellthisisjustasuncomfortableforhim.“Doyouneedsomethingelse?”
“Areyouokay?”I’msurprisedhewantstoknow.Hehasnoreasontocare.
“Sure.Justpeachy.”
Westshakeshishead.“Comeon,kid.Berealwithme.Whyareyouworkinginthisplace?”
I lean forward so others won’t hear. I never know when my perverted boss is listening on his

cheapassblackandwhitecamerashe’sgotpostedineverycorner.“Ishouldn’thavetospellitoutfor
you,West.Icanworkhere,orleavetownforajob.Everyonehatesme.Thisisasgoodasitgetsforme.”

Hisfacecontortslikehe’sdisturbed.“Youcandobetterthanthis.”
“Thispaysthebills.Iworknightsandsleepduringtheday.It’snotsobad.Ikeeptomyselfand

everyonegoesonwiththeirlives.What’sthebigdeal?Didn’tyoumovetoAlaskatoavoidwhat’sleftfor
youhere?”

MywordscomeoutbeforeIcanthinkofthedamagethey’lldo.Heclencheshisjaw.Irecognizeit

immediately.Whilehepaidlittleattentiontomeinthepast,Iusedtowatchhimlikeahawk.Hestolemy
sister’sheart,soIwantedtoknowwhy.Ofcourseitwasobvious.He’sagreatman.Hewasdevotedto
making her happy. I’m jealous of the love they got to experience, especially because I know I’ll never
havethatinmylife.

Ishakemyheadbeforehecananswer.“I’msorry.Ididn’t…”
Hecutsmeoff.“No.It’sfine.Isupposeit’strue.Thetownistoosmallsometimes.”

“Yeah.Don’tIknowit.”
“Sowhereareyoustaying?”
He’stryingtobeniceandtalktome.It’skind.Ihaven’thadaconversationwithsomeoneIknew

foralongtime.Avoidingpeoplehasbecomemyspecialty.“Ilivehereatthemotel.Ievengetadiscount
forbeinganemployee.”

“Bullshit.There’snowayyourfatherwouldallowit.”
Ismirkandmanageahalfsmile.Hedoesn’tknowthehalfofit.“Ihaven’tspokentothatmanfor

months.AfterItriedtotakemylife,goodoldDadgaveuponme.”

ThisseemstoreallyaffectWest.Hisgrimaceissympathetic,andwhilehesearchesforwhatto

saynextIhaveasuddenurgetocloseupshopandlockmyselfinmyefficiencyapartmentuntilIknow
he’sgone.

“Whywouldyouthinkkillingyourselfwouldsolvethings?”
“Whywouldlivinginthishellbebetter?”I’mfrankwhenIsayit.“Iliterallyhavenothing.Ihave

acar,whichIlivedoutofuntilIhadenoughmoneytostayhere.Myfamilystoppedcaringaboutmea
long time ago. They blame me for everything. My own mother doesn’t even ask what I do for a living.
Thisjobismylife.Imindmybusinessandkeeptomyself,becauseit’sbetterthanbeingstaredatand
talkedabout.Bricewasthetownshrink.I’mjusthernobodysister.”Tearsforminmyeyes.Westlooks
awayforasecond,butwhenhisexpressionreturnsit’scalm.“Thankyoufortheletters.”

I’m speechless. The address was right. He’s gotten them. When West walked in here today he

already knew I’ve been struggling. I suppose he didn’t know how bad it was. “I shouldn’t have sent
them.”

Hefoldshishandsashecontinues.“I’vegottobehonest.Ithrewthefirstfortytofiftyaway.”
WhenhesaysthenumberIcringe.It’sembarrassing.Iwassodesperateforsomeonetotalkto.Of

coursehedidn’twantanythingtodowiththem.LittledoesheknowthateverystoryIsenthimisalsoin
myjournal.IkeptacopytobeabletoremindmeofthehappytimeswithBrice.It’slikeI’mwritinga
memoirofherpreciouslife.“Thatmany,huh?”

“Ittookmeawhiletoopenone.YouneedtounderstandI…”
Iholdmyhandup.“Igetit.Wewereneverfriends,West.Itwasastupidmove,butwritingthem

helpedmerememberher.Theybringmeasenseofpeace,andIwasonlysendingthemtoyouinhopes
thatthey’dhelpyoutoo.InevermeanttobeoffensiveorseemlikeIwasstalkingyou.”

Helaughs.“Howdidyougettheaddress?”
Ishrug.He’sgoingtoflip.“Isortofusedmykeytogothroughyourmail.”
“I’llbeneedingthatkeyback,youknow.”
It’snotwhatIwanttohear.Itwouldbenicetohaveanally,butI’mcrazytothinkitcanbeWest.

“Sure.I’llputitintheyourmailbox,unlessyouwantitnow?Icanrunandgetit.”

“Norush.”
“Nowthatyou’rebackIguessInolongerhaveapen-pal,notthatyoueverwroteback.”
“Yeah, I still don’t know what to say. This is pretty awkward. I was mad for a long time. I left

becauseIcouldn’tdealwithit.I’monlybackbecauseIpromisedmydadI’dvisit.They’reworriedabout
me.”

“You’relucky,West.Youhaveabigfamilytocomehometo.”
I turn away from his lingering gaze. I can feel my throat tightening up and my palms becoming

sweaty.I’malone.Completelyalone.

“Youknow,yoursisterwouldn’twantyoulivinglikethis.”
Inod,thetearswellinginmyeyes.WhenIlookupheseeswhatthisconversationisdoingtome.

“Imisshersomuch.”

Henods.“Yeah.Igetit.”

SuddenlyIfeeltheneedtoexplainthings.“Thatnight…”Someoneattheotherendofthebaris

callingforme.“Hey,sweetthing,getmeanotherround.”

Iexcusemyselffromtheconversation,wipemyeyesandstarttogetthemenrefills.They’vebeen

hereforhours.Oneofthemhashadatleasttenbeers.He’sslurringhiswordsandbeingverbalaboutthe
thingshe’dliketodotomeifIgavehimthechance.Histwofriendsaren’tmuchbetter.Theyeyemeup
asIservethem,andwhenthelastglassofdraftbrewslidesacrossthecounterhegrabsmyarm,forcing
metostill.Iattempttojerkawaybuthe’smuchstronger.“Givemeonenight.I’lldothingstothatlittle
bodyofyours.Ibetyoutastelikehoney.”

BeforeIknowwhat’shappeningIhearWestfromtheoppositeendofthebar.“Getyourhandsoff

her.”He’swalkingintheirdirection,andfromthelookonhisfacehe’sgoingtomakesuretheylisten.IfI
knowanythingabouttheWallacecrewit’sthattheylikegettingintofights.Thejerk’stwofriendsstandup
toblockWestfromgettingcloser.“Mindyourbusiness,”oneofthemsays.

West glances at me, and then back at the two guys. “You really want to do this, because I can

promiseIwon’tbetheonehurtingtomorrow.”

“Takeyourassoutofhere,boy,”theotherthreatens.
“Lastchance.Takeyourhandsofftheladyandwalkonoutofhere.”
OneofthemenlungesatWest.Heslidesoutofthewayandwatchestheguystumbleandtripto

thefloor.HisfriendreactsbyshovingWest.Herecoversandtakesthesamedudebythecollar,cocking
hisarmbackandjabbinghimdirectlyinthenose.Thesnapcanbeheardoverthemusicplayingatalow
volume.Theguygrabshisfaceasthebloodbeginstopourout.Westturnstoaddressthefriendwhois
thinkingaboutgettingrevengeforhisbuddy.Westgiveshimanotherwarning.“Whydon’tyoutakeyour
friendoutofherebeforeImakeyoutwins?”

“Fuckyou.”Hecrackshisknuckleslikeit’ssupposedtoscareWest.Icantellitonlyamuseshim.

Heseemstolikethis.

Finallythejerkwhohasaholdofmeletsgo.HestandsupandheadsinWest’sdirection.It’sgoing

tobetwoonone.Itakethebatwekeepbehindthebarandwhiparoundthecountertohelpout.Inthat
amountoftimeWesthastakenoutthefirstguyskneesandsenthimtotheground.Then,asthejerkwho
hadmeapproaches,hekicksthekneelingoneinthefaceandpunchesthejerk.Brokennosedudehelpshis
friend stand with his one free arm. West waits and watches, like none of them are any kind of threat. I
makemywayovertothemanwhostartedallofthisandpointthebatathisface.“Getyourassoutofmy
bar!”

Hecurses,butleaves,withoutpayingthetab.It’satleastsixtydollarsthatI’llhavetomakeup

for.Ifthatcouldn’tbebadenough,themanagercomesbarginginwithfireinhiseyes.“Whatthehellis
goingonhere?”

Westshakeshishandandpointstowardwherethemenexited.“Thosemenwerethreateningher.”
Helooksmeover,thenmotionstowardthedoor.“Ithinkit’stimeyoupaidyourtabandleftoutof

here.”

I’monlyabletoquicklyglancebackatWest,whoisnotpleasedwiththewaythingsareheaded.

I’m getting yelled at for losing customers, all while Weston Wallace watches and judges me for the
catastropheofwhat’sleftofmyfuture.

Ican’tfightthisman.Ihavetolistenandapologize.Alotisridingonmebeingcompliant.
Hetakesmeinthebackroom.“Howmuchwasthattab?”
“I’llpayit.”
“Iknowyouwill.Don’tthinkyoucanthintheamounteither.I’llgobackandcountthebeers.”
“Igetit.Iwon’tstiffyou.”
“Gocountoutforthenight.Whateverisshortcomesoutofyourpay.I’llclosetonight.”
“ButIneedthehours,”Iargue.

“Kimber, I just lost three customers. They came to the desk and told me I needed better help.

You’reluckyyoustillhaveajob.”

“Theywerethreateningme.Thatguywastakingupforme.”
“Businessisbusiness.You’vegotabatifthingsgetoutofhand.Youcouldhavebuzzedmeatany

time.I’dtakecareofthemisunderstanding.Goonandgetoutofheretonight.Tomorrowisanewday.”

I’m pissed, but resolved I still have a job and a place to live. After counting the register in the

now empty establishment, I say my goodbyes to my asshole of a boss and walk in the direction of my
room. Across the street I see a guy resembling West with a huge white dog. They’re walking in the
directionofthebridgetoAssateague.Iwatchthem,firsttomakesureit’sreallyWest,andthenbecauseI
wanttoapologizeforruininghisfirstnightback.IntheparkinglotIseeatruckwithAlaskaplates.He
musthavedrivenhere,whichIknowisoneheckofalongdrive.BeforeIknowitthey’rewalkingback.
Westseesme beforeIcan duckinmy roomandhide. Ireturn thewaveand waitforhim togetcloser.
“Sorry,West.”

“Shit,itfeltgoodtopoundonsomefleshagain.It’sbeenawhile.Itwastherapeutic.”
“Iappreciateyoutakingupforme.”
“BricewouldkickmyassifIdidn’t.”
Whenhesaysitwebothrealizehe’sspeakinglikeshe’sstillherewithus.Thenit’squiet.Idon’t

knowwhattosay,soIusethedogasawaytochangethesubject.“Isitagirlorboy?”

“Girl.HernameisBee.”
Iimmediatelylaugh.“Iwroteastoryaboutadogonce.”
“Iknow.Ihavethatone.”
“Youhaveit?Youkeptthem?Iwasn’tevensureyouweregettingthem.”
HekneelsdownwithBeeandwatchesasIpether.“IkeptalltheonesthatIread.You’reagood

writer.”

I’m not used to compliments. “Thanks. It’s more like therapy though. I write what my heart and

mindtellmeto.It’showIkeepherclose,yaknow?”

Henods.“Yeah.”
It’s weird again. I swing my arms around as I stand. “I better let you get back to your life. I’ve

beengiventhenightoff.”Imotiontotheroombehindme.“Thisisme.”BeforeIturntoleaveIsayone
morething.“Itwasnicetoseeyou,West.Takecareofyourself.”

“Kimber,wait.”Myhandletsgoofthedoorknobwhenhesaysit.
“Youdon’thavetosayanything.Igetit.Wewereneverclose.I’mthereasonshe’sgone.Ireally

dogetit.”

“Iwasn’tgoingtosaythat.”Heshakeshishead.“Look,Ididn’tthinkI’drunintoyoulikethis.

Areyousureyou’reokay?”

“LikeIsaidbefore,I’mpeachy.Ihaveajobandaroofovermyhead.”
“That’snotwhatImeanandyouknowit.”
Ishrug.“Iwokeuptoday.That’sasgoodasitgetsforme.”
Hescratcheshishead.“Imisshertoo,Kimber.Imisshersodamnmuchitkillsme,butIhaveto

keepliving.”

Thementionofmysisterhasmeallchokedupagain.“Thanksforwhatyoudidformeinthebar.It

wasgoodseeingyouagain.”

Ihavetogoinside.It’sbeenmonthssinceanyonewantedtohavearealconversationwithme,one

thatdidn’tinvolveadrunkperson’sproblems.Idon’twanthispityortolookhiminthoseeyesandknow
heblamesmeforallofthis.

Chapter20
Kimber

I’mcryingbythetimeIhitthemattress.MylifeisinshamblesandI’veonceagainbeenreminded

ofit.“Why?Whydideverythinghavetobesomessedup?”Iasknoone.

Ittakesawhiletocalmdown.WhenmystomachrumblesIrealizeIshouldprobablyeat.Myonly

optionsaresomethingfromaboxorMcDonaldsacrossthestreet.Iwipethesmearedmakeupoffmyface
beforeventuringoutsideformynextmeal.IeatheresofrequentlythatImightbetheonekeepingthemin
businessduringtheoffseason.Godknowsit’slikeaghosttowntonight.It’seerilyquiet.

Histruckisstillintheparkinglot.It’sparkedinaspotforadesignatedroom.Ilookupandsee

thelightsonwherethenumberislabeledontheoutsidedoor.Whywouldhecheckintothiscrapplace
whenheownsahouseontheisland?

Igetmyfoodtogo,becauseIcan’tbeartoeatatatablealone.WhenIwasyoungerIusedtofeel

sosorryforpeoplesittingbythemselves.I’dpicturethemhavingnoonetosharetheirlifewith.NowI’m
thatperson.

With a large drink of Coke in one hand, and a bag of food in the other, I make my way across

Maddox toward the motel. I see the dog before he comes into view. That canine is hard to miss. She’s
humongous.

Westclimbsdowntheflightofstairsandarrivesintheparkinglotinfrontofme.Hehasabag

overhisshoulderandherleashintheoppositehand.“Don’ttellmeyou’restayinghere.”

“I’m not. We got sandy, and to be honest I wasn’t exactly ready to go to the house. I tried.” He

peersinanotherdirectionasiftokeepmefromseeinghispainexpression.

“ItwashardwhenIwenttheretheonetime.”
Hesearchesmyfaceforasecond.“Bricewouldn’twantthis.”
“What?”Iquestion.“Ustalking?”
He shakes his head with a guffaw. “No. She’d probably want that. I’m talking about the way

we’vebeenliving.Itriedtostartover.Noteventhedistancehelps.”

“Idon’thavethemeanstoleave.IwishIdid.”
Hepointstomyroom.“Sothisisyourlifenow?”
“It’s what I deserve, West. You don’t have to stand here and pretend you care. You and I both

knowwewereneverfriends.I’mthereasonshe’sgone.Iwalkaroundeverysingledaywithaapartof
herinsideofme.Iruinedthelivesoftoomanypeople.Itshouldhavebeenmethatnight.”

Henodslikehe’sagreeing,butwhatcomesoutofhismouthissurprising.“You’reright.Iusedto

blameyou.Ifyouhadn’tcalledthatnightshe’dstillbehere,butshedidn’tdiebecauseofyou.Bricedied

because a drunk driver drove his vehicle into yours without headlights. It’s not your fault.” He pauses.
“Look, a part of me will always wish she never left that night. I wish you didn’t call, but if the
circumstancesweredifferentandyouwereoneofmysiblings,Iwouldhavedonethesamedamnthing.
That’swhatyoudoforyourfamily.”

“Yeah,wellmaybesomeoneshouldtellthattomyparents.”
“That’sbullshitthatthey’vepushedyouaway.You’retheironlylivingchild.”
“I’maconstantreminder.”
“Yeah,maybe,butsometimesremindersareimportant.WhenIsawyouatthebarearlierIfeltlike

youwereBrice.Youremindedmesomuchofher.Withoutallthatblackshitaroundyoureyesyoureally
lookalike.Ittookmeoffguard,becauseIneverexpectedtorunintoyou.”

“Again,I’msorry.”
“Kimber,Idon’thateyouanymore.EvenifIwantedto,Ican’tbecauseofBrice.Shemaynotbe

here,butIlivemylifelikesheis.Idon’twanttodisappointher.”

“All I am is a disappointment,” I manage with a sniffle. “I’d do anything to change things. I’d

gladlytakeherplace.”

“Metoo.”
It’s quiet again. Not a single car has passed since it’s gotten dark. The town is quiet, because

touristshaven’tbegunrollinginyet.Wehaveafewmoreweeksbeforethingsbecomehecticandourlittle
townstartsmakingmoneyagain.

“Doyouplanonstaying,West?”
He’squicktoreply.“Idon’tknow.It’sbeenonedayandI’malreadystruggling.”
Idon’tknowwhyhedoesit,butWestturnsandfollowswheremyeyesjustwent.Thelighthouse.

Thelightcaughtmyattention,andbeforeIrealizedthesignificancehe’dlookedforhimself.

Hisbackistomeforafewseconds.Hestares,likehe’sremindedofallthegoodtimesheshared

withmysister.Theirspecialplacecanbeseenfromalmostalloftheisland,sohewon’tbeabletoavoid
it.IsighandsaythefirstthingIthinkwillhelp.“Shelovedthatlighthouse,West.”

Hekeepshiseyesonthegroundinfrontofhimasheanswers.“Ihadnoideashetalkedtoyou

aboutourlife.UntilIgotthoselettersIthoughtyouonlystoppedbywhenyouhaddrama.Bricewasso
good about keeping conversations to herself. She had a habit of forgetting she could tell me anything.
WhenIstartedgettingyourlettersandreadingthosepersonaldetailsIunderstoodhowimportantshewas
toyou.Ithoughtyouwereaselfishkid,butyou’dbeenlisteningallalong.”

“She was my idol. I looked up to her. I hung on her every word, and when the two of you got

together I was jealous. I knew she loved you from the beginning, because I got pushed to the side. It
wasn’tyourfault.Youdeservedtobehappy.IguessIwishedonedayIcouldhavewhatthetwoofyou
did.Maybeinanotherlifeitcouldhavehappened.”

“You’restillyoung,”heremindsme.
“I don’t need your pity, West. My heart can’t take anymore. It’s permanently broken. Even if

someonewantedtoloveme,Icouldn’tlovethemback.It’stooprecious.Whetheritwasmyfaultornot,I
stillholdmyselfaccountableforthatnight.Thisismypunishment.”

“Igetit.”
“Yeah,”Ipatthesidesofmypantsandcontinue.“Ihopeyoucanstayhereandbehappyagain,

West.I’mgladyouwereabletoappreciatethestories.Theymeanalottome.”

“IwishI’dreadthemall.I’msuretherewasalotmoreIwouldhaveenjoyed.”
“Well,whenyougetalargeamountofspamfromsomeoneyoucan’tstandit’sacceptabletotoss

itinthegarbage.”

“Orburntheminthefire,”hecorrectsme.
“Wow,burned.That’sprettymean.”

“IneversaidIwasaniceguy.Maybeyourdadwasright.”
Icackle.“Shutup.He’sanasshole.”
“Wecanagreeonthat.”Hisdogistryingtogosomewhere.She’stiredofsittingstillwhilewe

talk.

Iholdupmynowcolddinner.“Ibettergetgoing.Mystomachisreadytogiveuphopeonbeing

fed.”

HewatchesasIwalkaway,butsaysnothingmore.There’snothinglefttosay.BeingaroundWest

islikestabbingmyselfintheheartoverandoveragain.Itkillsmetoseewhathelookslikenow.He’s
brokenandit’sallbecauseofme.

I pick at my food, while peeking through the crack in the curtains to watch him pull out of the

parking lot. West is gone. It was good to see him again. He’s like a burly lumberjack now, but it looks
okayonhim.He’sbetterlookingwithoutit,buthe’sneverhadtoworkhardforit.Hiswholefamilylooks
like they belong on the cover of magazines. From their tan skin to those shining white teeth, they know
howtodrawintheladies.Nowondermysisterplayedhardtoget.Sheknewshe’dhavecompetitionand
didn’twanttodealwithit.Westprovedtobedifferent.Hestilllovesher.It’sbeautifulandsad.Itmakes
mecryagainwhenIthinkaboutit.Unlikeme,heleftthislifebehind.Nowcomingbackaftersolong,it’s
like he’s going through the devastation all over again. I’m sure seeing me first didn’t help. If I’m not a
reminderthenIdon’tknowwhatis.

ThecoldfoodsitsonmylapasIflipthroughthechannelsonthetelevision.Notfindinganything

to occupy me, I pull out my journal and start to write. I need to get some thoughts on paper, especially
aftertonight.WithallthattranspiredwithWest,Ifeeltheneedtowriteanotherstory.Asthepenstartsto
glideacrossthelinedjournalIletmymindtakecontrol.ThisiswhereIfindsolace.It’stheonlyplaceI
canescapeto.

Chapter21
Weston

MyruninwithKimberhasleftmeallsortsofdisturbed.Ifhersistercouldseeherlivinginthat

fleabagmotelshe’sturnoverinhergrave.Itsaddensmetoknowherparentsturnedtheirbackonher.I
getwhyshewantstohideawayfromthetownsfolk.Peoplecanbemeanandjudgmental,especiallywhen
theyalllovedBricesomuch.Shewasabigpartofthecommunity.Shedonatedmoneyandhertimeto
everyeventorfundraiser.Shevolunteeredforwalksandotherwaystohelpthelocalkids.Shemadea
nameforherself,andbecauseofthatKimberhasalwaysbeeninthelimelight.It’sunfortunatehowlife
goessometimes.

I’m not going to lie. I hated the girl for a long time. She was selfish and spoiled. When I think

aboutitnowIfeelsorryforher.Ifherparentshadpaidmoreattentiontohershewouldhavemadebetter
decisions.Shemaynothaveevenbeenoutthenightoftheaccident.

Looking into her blue eyes and seeing nothing but heartbreak was tough. I’ve spent every day

hurting. I know from experience how difficult it is to move forward. There’s a hard line between
forgivenessandcompassion.BeforeIwouldn’thavegivenashitifsomeguywasroughingKimberupat
abar.NowIhavetoconsiderwhatshe’sbeenthrough,andhowBricewouldwantmetohelpher.She’d
wantmetofindawaytoforgiveher,butit’snotaseasyasI’dlikeittobe.

There’saholeinmyheart,andgettingclosetoKimberforanyamountoftimeonlyremindsme

it’sthere.Returningtotheislandwasn’tsupposedtostartthisway.

I’m agitated when I pull up at Oyster Cove. The lights are on so I know at least one person is

home.Judgingbytheamountofvehiclesparkedoutside,I’dsaythere’sahousefull.

Beegetsoutandbeginssmellingaround.Ihavenoideaifshe’llgetalongwiththeotherdogs,but

we’reabouttofindout.Withmyfocusonher,Iwatchthefrontdooropen.Dadpeekshisheadoutandone
ofthelabsdartsthroughtheopening.Beetuckshertailbetweenherlegswhentheymeet,butsoonbegins
waggingitagain.Theysniffeachother’sbuttsandinstantlybecomefriends.Ifonlyhumancontactwasso
easy.

Dadcomesoutontheporchandcrosseshisarms.“Lookwhatthecatdraggedin.Youlooklike

shit,West.Getyourassinthishouseandshavethatcrapoffyourface.”

Irubthehaironmychin.“I’malumberjacknow.Livewithit.”It’sajoketoshowhimIstillhave

asenseofhumor.Infact,I’malotbetterthenthewayIwaswhenIleft.ThethingsIcouldn’tfigureout
formyself,ItalkedtoNickabout.Heofferedgoodadviceandwasneverpartialtosugarcoatingthings.If
Iwasbeingastubbornasshole,hewasthefirstpersontoletmeknow.

“Haveyoubeenhomeyet?”

Igivetheoldmanastronghug.“Iamhome.”
“YouknowwhatImean.Haveyoustoppedbyyourhouseyet?”
“Idrovepast.”PointingtoBee,Icontinue.“Itookhertoseetheocean.She’sfamiliarwithlakes,

butnothingwithwaves.Shewentalittlecrazy.Igaveherabathafterwards.”

“She’sabiggirl,”Dadsayswhenshecomesuptomeethim.“Andfriendlytoo.”
“Shelikespeople.HernameisBee.”
Dad gets it. He knows what the B in her name stands for. He understands how much her

companionshipkeepsmegoing.“It’srealgoodtohaveyouhome,son.I’msureeveryoneisgoingtobe
gladtoseeyou.”

“Who’sinside?”
“Your beautiful step-mom, your sister, and your stepbrother. They’re actually playing a board

game.”

“What?”Ican’tbelieveit.ChrisandBristolusuallyfightabouteverything.
“Alice is trying to get us to have a weekly game night. We make them partners so they have to

worktogether.”

“Soundslikecruelandusualpunishmenttome.”
“Yeah, well it makes your step-mom happy so I go along with it.” He puts his hand on my

shoulder as we walk inside the house. “You hungry? We can heat up some leftovers. Alice made pork
chopsandhomemadestuffing.”

“I’mgoodfornow.Imightgrabsomethinginabit.”
Assoonasmysisterhearsmyvoiceshe’sracingtowardme.“OhmyGod,West.It’sreallyyou.”
Weembraceforalong,muchneededhug.“Imissedyoutoo.”
“Tellmeyou’rehomeforgood.Theguysaregoingnutswithoutyou.”
Ichuckle.“Ibet.”
Chriswaves,whilehismotherwaitsherturnforahug.Shepullsatmyfacialhair.“Ilikeit.”
Dadshakeshishead.“Shewould.”
“I’llprobablycutittomorrow.It’scoldinAlaska.Theextrahairpreventsalotoffrostbite.”
“Youshouldjoinus,”Bristoloffers.
“I’llpass.I’mkindoftired.”
Dadtakesmydefense.“Whydon’tyouguysfinishwithoutus.Wehavesomecatchinguptodo.”
He leads me into the kitchen where he pulls two beers from the refrigerator. “How was the

drive?”

“Long.Beautiful,though.”
“Howlongdidittake?”
“Almosttwowholeweeks.”ThecreakoftheoldchairsbringsmebacktothetimesDadgotonus

aboutleaningbackinthem.It’sgoodtobehereagain.I’mnotusedtobeingsurroundingbyahousefullof
people,butI’msureI’llreadjust.

“I’massumingyoumadealotofstops.”
“Everynight.Ididn’twanttomakeittooroughonBee.Sheneedstobeabletorun.”
“Iseeyou’vefoundyourselfaloyalcompanion.”
Aguffawthrusts.“She’sabedhog.”
Dadgetsakickoutofthecomment.“Youplanningonstayingatyourhousetonight,ordoIneedto

putyouinoneofthevacantbedrooms?”

Ishrug.“I’mgoinghome.I’mjustworkingmywaythere.”
“It’sgoingtotaketime,West.”
If anyone knows about losing the person he loves it’s my dad. I believe him when he says it,

becauseifhecandoit,socanI.“Yeah,Igetit.”

“Wheredidyougotowashthedog?”
“Thatmotelrightoffthebridge.Figureditwouldn’tmatterifwemadeamessthere.Itwasn’tas

badasIfigured.She’susuallygoodaboutgettingabath.”

“Youcouldhavebroughtherhereinsteadofpayingforaroom.”
“Iknow.Itwaseasier.Trustme.She’snoteasytowashinsmallspaces.Prettysurethatwhole

roomsmellslikewetdognow.Ifeelbadforthemaids,butit’snothingagoodcleaningcan’tfix.Ipaid
fortheservice.Theroomcostslessthanthedanggroomerfees.”

“Ibet.She’sawholelotofanimal.Dotheychargeyouextraforher?”
“Mostofthedogsarebig.Theyneedallthathairinthewinter.”
Dadfoldshishandsacrosshissmallbelly.He’sbeeneatinggoodfromwhatIcantell.“Lookat

us, sitting here talking about washing dogs. I’d rather talk about you. Are you good? I know you didn’t
driveallthiswaytodiscussanimals.”

“I’mokay,Dad.Iwasn’tforalongtime,butit’sgettingbetter.”
Icantellthenextquestionmakeshimuncomfortable.“Youthinkyou’llstickaroundforawhile?”
“We’llseehowthingsgo.”Ichangethesubjectquickly.“Speakingofthat,how’stherestaurant?

Youreadyforthecrowds?”

“Alwaysready.We’vebeendoingwellconsideringthecoldwinter.Icouldusealittlemorehelp

withserversifyou’reinterestedinstayingbusy.”

“It’sfunnyyousaythat.Imightknowsomeonewhoislooking.”
“Aretheylocal?”
Ishrug.“I’llletyouknow.NowthatIthinkaboutit,theyprobablywouldn’tbeinterested.”
“Letmeknow.”
It’sbotheringmethatIcan’tstopthinkingaboutKimberandherawfullivingconditions.Ithink

abouthowmuchherlettershavehelpedmeconnectwithBricewhenmissingherfeltlikeitwaskilling
me.Ishouldn’twanttobeherfriend,butIfeelsodamnsorryforhersituation.She’sblamingherself,and
ontopofthatthereisn’tonepersonintheworldtellinghershe’swrong.Bricewouldbedevastatedifshe
knewhersistertriedtokillherself.Shemadeacareeroutofhelpingpeopleavoidsuchactions.

Isitandtalktomydadforawhileuntilhebeginsyawning.SinceIknowhehasabreakfastshift

inthemorning,Iexcusemyselftoheadtomyhouse.It’stimeIfinallymadesomeprogressofmyown.

After collecting Bee from her new boyfriend, we head out. Pulling up into the driveway feels

okay.I’mhome.AsIlookintothewindowsofthedarkfirstfloorItakeadeepbreath.“Youcandothis.”

ExceptI’mnotsureIcan.
I’mdrivingbacktoOystertospendthenight,becausethethoughtofgoinginsideandseeingany

remnantofmylifewithBricewastoomuchtohandle.MaybeI’lltryagaininthemorning.FornowIneed
tocalmdownandrethinkthewholesituation.

Themorningsunshinesinthroughthesheercurtainsofmyoldbedroom.Sincemovingoutthey

mostlyusethisroomforAlice’ssewingmaterial.Shemakesdressesinhersparetimeandsellsthemata
littleboutiquehereontheisland.Dadsaysit’sjustahobbyshedoeswhenshehasthefreetime,much
likehislittleprojectshegetsintoaroundthehouse.It’sfunny.Hedidn’tdoshitforyears,butonceAlice
cameintohislifehereallygothisassbackingear.

ThehouseisemptywhenBeeandIclimboutofbed.Igetwashedupwhilesheusestheoutside

facilitiesanddecidetotakeherforalongwalkonthebaysideofAssateagueIsland.Whilewe’redriving
thereIpeeroverandnoticeKimber’scarisnolongerparkedatthemotel.SinceIknowsheworksnights
Iwonderwhereshewouldhavegonesoearlyinthemorning.

AfterourwalkIdiscoverexactlywhereshe’sgone.Ifindhercarparkedintheoceanlot.It’soff

byitself,andforsomereasonitmakesmeworried.SuddenlyI’mwonderingifshecamehereafterIsaw
herandendedherlife.MyheartracesuntilIseealonewomansittingwithherlegscrossedlookingatthe

crashing waves. Her hair is blowing with the breeze as I approach. From the back she looks just like
Brice. For a minute I pretend it’s her. “I miss you so much, babe,” I whisper. “I’m going to help your
sister.Iknowit’swhatyou’dwant.”

If someone would have told me I’d be friends with Kimber Carpenter I would have laughed in

theirfaces.Thethingis,likeitornotwehaveacommoninterest.Webothneedhelp,becausetheperson
welovedthemostisgone.InsteadofblamingherIneedtoappreciatethatapartofBricewillalways
remain.MaybeI’mbeingalittleselfish,butatleastI’mmakinganeffort.It’sallIhavetoofferatthis
point.

Chapter22
Kimber

I toss and turn, more than usual, and it’s all because of the run in I had with Weston Wallace. I

don’tknowwhyitmademesoupset.Hehaseveryrighttohateme,butforsomereasonshowedsympathy
whenIdidn’texpectit.

WhenIwroteaboutmysisterlastnightIcouldn’tfinishthestory.Wewereatthebeachwiththe

hotsunshiningoverouroilcoatedskin,thesoundsoftheguyssurfinginthewater,whilethedistantneigh
of ponies reminded us they were near. We shared a pack of raisins and talked about the time I got one
stuck in my ear. We were laughing. It was a great memory, until it wasn’t. I began bawling. It’s been a
while since I’ve lost control like that. I sobbed until my eyes burned, and my throat felt like something
wasclawingit.WhenIhadnothinglefttoletout,Ifellasleep,havingnightmareafternightmare.Ikept
seeingthecrash.Ifeltthestabbingpainasthecarrolledoffthehighway.Isawthetearsinmysister’s
eyesandthewayIthinksheknewnothingwasgoingtobeokay.I’dwakeupoutofbreathandsweating,
andwhat’sworseiswhenIclosedmyeyesithappenedagain.

Morning came and I woke with two puffy eyes and the sniffles. I don’t have work until the

evening,andsinceIknowIneedrestIdecidetogosomewheretohelpclearmyhead,andnowthesinus
congestion.

Theoceanairhastohelp.Thetemperatureissupposedtobeintheuppersixties.It’snotwarm

enoughtoswim,andIdoubtanyonewillbearound.WhenIarriveIspotseveralpeoplecollectingshells.
Most locals keep them in their front yard for sale. Tourists love to buy them. A full conch can make
someoneaneasyfivebucks.

Iadmirehowlittlethingslikethismakespeoplehappy.Isupposewritingdoesthesameforme.

Rightnowit’sallIhave.

I’mdonefeelingsorryformyself.Istoppedworryingwhatpeoplethoughtawhileago.IfIcaredI

wouldn’tbeslummingitupatthemotel.Idon’tneedcrappyfriends,oraboyfriendwhocouldn’tgive
two shits about me. I’m alone. It’s my reality and it’s okay. As far as I’m concerned I’ve become
unlovable.There’snooneplayingtheviolinatmyside.Notasinglepersoncaresenoughtothrowmea
pity party. I fucked up my life. I’m here because of me. I chose to push my so-called friends away. I
decideditwasbesttogetawayfrommyparentsandhowtheyweretreatingme.

InordertorespectmyselfIhadtobreakfreeofitall.
SohereIsit.Aloneonthebeach.It’sbeautifulandadisasteratthesametime.
A seagull whips down on the sand next to me looking for a handout. I don’t know about the

seagullsinotherplaces,butthesebirdsaregreedy.They’lltakeasandwichoutofyourhandifyougive

themopportunity.They’relikeflyingninjas,swoopinginandcatchingyouoffguard.Ishoothisoneaway,
andasI’mdoingitIspotsomeonewalkinginmydirection.

Igotostand,butWestmotionsformetostaywhereIam.“Don’tgetup.”
“I’vebeenherelongenough.”
“It’sapublicbeach,Kimber.I’mnotexpectingyoutoleaveonmyaccount.”Hegivesmeagood

onceoverandI’mshockedatwhathesaysnext.“Haveyoubeencrying?”

“SowhatifIhave?It’snothingnew.”
“Youshouldtalktosomeone,Kimber.”
“Don’tdothat.”Ipointathim.“Don’tsaywhatshewould.”
“I’msayingitbecauseit’sthetruth.Youcan’tcontinuelivingyourlifewithoutpurpose,andI’m

onlysayingitbecauseI’minthesamesituation.Iwantareasontowakeupeverymorning.”

“Imightneverhaveareason,West.MaybeIdon’tevenwantone.”
Hestickshishandsinhispocketsandlooksbackatthetruck.“I’mheadedtobreakfast.Haveyou

eaten?”

“Idon’teatbreakfast.”
Heshakeshisheadwithasemi-annoyedgrin.“Whyareyoubeingsostubborn?”
Icrossmyarms.“Don’tyouremember?Thisisme.”Imotiontowardhistruckwherehisdogsits

waiting.“Whatareyouevendoinghere?”

“Wecameforanearlywalk.Itookherontheothersideofthedunessoshedidn’tgetsosandy.

WewereleavingwhenIspottedyourvehicle.”

“Youshouldhavekeptdriving.”
Heshakeshisheadatmeandthrowsuphishands.“BacktobeingtheoldKimbernow?Youknow

what,forgetIevenasked.Youcan’thelpsomeonewhodoesn’twanttobehelped.”

IlethimgettohistruckbeforeIrunafterhim.“WhywouldIwanthelpfromsomeonewhoisjust

asbroken?”

“IfIhavesomethingincommonwithanyoneinthisworldrightnow,it’syou,Kimber.YouknowI

triedtogohomelastnightandcouldn’tmakeitinsidethedoor?Doyouhaveanyideawhatit’sliketo
ownahousethatyou’rescaredofwalkinginto?”

Ibiteonmylip.“I’msorry,West.Ithoughtyouweredoingbetter.”
“Iknewitwouldbehard.I’mjustgladmybrothersweren’texpectingme.”
“Sowheredidyousleep?”Iaskoutofcuriosity.
“Mydad’shouse.Itwasbetterthanthemotel.Nooffense.”
“Nonetaken.Igetit.It’snothinggreat.Itbeatslivinginacar.”
Hiseyeswiden.“Didyoureallyliveinyourcar?”
“Foratime,yeahIdid.”
“Thatsucks.”
Imanageasortofhalfsmile.“Weren’tyoutheonewhoalwayssaidIwasawasteofspace?”
“Comeon.Youwereabigtimecockblock.”
Igiggle.“Shewasmysister.Ihadeveryrighttowanttohangoutwithher.”
Henods.“Yeah,youdid.”
It’s probably out of line to say it, but I have nothing to lose. “I’m not a charity case, West. You

don’thavetospendtimewithmebecauseyoufeelsorryforme.”

“Kimber,I’maskingyoutobreakfastbecauseIthinkyouandIshouldfigureouthowtobefriends.

Ithinkit’swhatyoursisterwouldwant,andtobehonestwhenI’maroundyouIfeelclosertoher.”

Immediatelymyeyesfillupwithtears.It’snotnecessarilythewords,butmorethetruthofitall.I

thinkbacktoherlastwordsandfeelthatstruggleagain.Myemotionsareallovertheplace,buttheidea
ofhavingafriend,anyfriend,istheonlythingIwant.MaybeIshouldhavegottenadog.Heseemstocare

alotabouthis.Shekeepshimcompany.I’dlovetohavesomeonetocuddlewithatnight.Butthere’salso
theresponsibilitiesthatcomewithitandI’mnotreadytomakethatkindofdecision.

“I’dreallyliketohavebreakfastwithyou.”
“Thoughtyoudidn’teatbreakfast?”Heteases.
“Ithinkit’stimetolookatlifedifferently.”
“I’llmeetyouatmyDad’splace.I’mgoingtodropBeeoffathishousefirst.”
“Okay,”Ireply.“Seeyouthere.”

I’mwaitingintheparkinglotwhenWestpullsupbesideme.I’mnotsurewhyIfeelnervousabout

beingseenwithhim.Everyoneknowshewasgoingtobemybrother-in-law.

Ifollowhiminsidetherestaurantandnoticeit’sprettyfullconsideringit’sprobablyonlylocals.

Thesmellofcoffeeandpancakesfillsmynostrils,andnotlikeitdoeswhenIwalkintoMcDonalds.This
isamorehomemadesmell,probablybecausethere’sahintofsomethingelsebakingandrealbaconfrying
onagrill.MystomachrumbleswhenItrytoimagineallthegoodthingsI’llhavetochoosefrom,likereal
potatoesinsteadofahashbrown.Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovemesomefriedformedsemiresemblanceof
whatwasonceapotato,butnothingbeatsrealhomefriesorbetteryet,potatoeswithonionsandpeppers,
whichhappenstobeonthefirstperson’splateI’mabletosee.IfIwasn’ttryingtobediscreetI’dlickmy
lipstokeepmysalivafromdrippingout.It’slikeI’machildgoingintoacandystoreforthefirsttime.
AllmylifeIhadamotherwhocookedusthreemeals.Bothofusgirlswerespoiled.Wegoteverything
weaskedfor,especiallymebeingtheyoungest.IprobablytookadvantageofitmorethanBrice,butthey
seemed happy to oblige. I’m thankful for my car. It’s the only big thing I have, and it’s been a blessing
whenIhadtospendthenightinittoavoidgoingbacktomyhouse.

Westwalksrightupandbeginsspeakingtohisfather.IrecognizehisbrotherDanestandingbehind

thehostessstation.Helookslikehemightbechangingupasetofmenuswithnewones.Hegivesmea
second’s glance like I’m familiar, but goes back to what he’s doing. Maybe I’m just overreacting about
feelingasifeveryonewilljudgeme.

WestleadsusovertoabooththatlooksoutonMainStreet.Hehastwooftheoldermenusinhis

handandslidesoneinmydirection.“Whatwouldyouliketodrink?”

Ishrug.“Idon’tknow.Coffeeisfine.”
“Well,youcanhavethecoffee,butyou’regettingsomejuicetoo.You’retoothin.”
“Ifeelfine.”
“Youlooklikeyoucouldwearchildsizedclothes,Kimber.Foroncelisten.”
Istilldon’tunderstandwhyhe’sbeingnicetome.Assumingit’sbecauseofthestoriesIsenthim,

andthisisasomewhatthankyou,Idoashesuggests.“Orangejuicewouldbegreat.”

“Orangejuiceitis.”Hestandsup.“I’llberightback.FigureoutwhatyouwantsoIcantellthe

guysintheback.”

Iwatchhimwalkaway.He’sdifferent,yetthesame.He’sdefinitelychanged.Thesmartmouthed

boyfriendofmysisterisnowaforlornman.He’semptyinside,andit’seasyformetosympathize.Icould
probablyforcemywayintomyparent’slives,butit’snotthesameasfeelingwanted.WestmissesBrice,
justasmuchasIdo,maybeevenmore.Perhapsthat’swhyhewantstobemyfriend.I’mthepoorexcuse
ofaconsolationprize.I’mallthat’sleftofher.

Agiantglassoforangejuiceisplacedinfrontofme,withabowloffreshcutfruit.Hetakesa

strawberryoffthetopbeforegoingbacktohisseat.“Didyoudecidewhatyouwant?”

“AmIallowedtochoose,orshouldyoudecidewhathasthebestnutrients?”Isayinasmartway

togetariseoutofhim.

Hesmirks.Atleastit’ssomething.“Pickwhateveryouwant.Themenuchangestodaytoprepare

forthetouristseason,soyou’regettingthefullselection.Takeadvantageofit.AsidefromMr.Paul’sthis

isthebestbreakfastontheisland.”

“Don’tyouthinkit’sweirdyourfamilystillgoesthereforbreakfastontheweekend?”
Heshakeshishead.“Haveyouhadtheirfood?It’slikeanoldmagicianlivesinthatkitchen.Plus,

wedon’toffercreamedchippedbeef.”

Momusedtomakegoodchippedbeef.NowIdoubtshecooksatall.LasttimeIspoketohershe

was going on a cruise with her church friends. Her new apartment is a one bedroom within walking
distance of the church she belongs to. Apparently when she left the island she changed congregations.
Momneverreallydidanythingonherown,soinalotofwaysthisisherfirsttimebeingindependent.In
some ways I’m happy that she’s able to move forward with her life. I know she’s burdened by the
memories,butshedoeswhatshecan.I,ontheotherhand,remaininlimbo.

“I’ll have the chocolate chip pancakes with scrapple and a side of potatoes with onions and

peppers.”

Westalmostchokesashetakesthefirstsipofhiscoffee.“Thatwaseasy.Doyouneedashovel

whileyou’reatit?”

Iflashhimawickedgrinandsneerlikehe’sannoying.Thenasmileformsacrossmyface.We’ve

neverspenttimealonetogether.Ialreadyknewhewasagreatguy,butnowI’mseeinglittlereasonswhy
Bricelovedhim.“I’msureaforkwillsuffice.”

Hegetsbackupandheadsintothekitchentoplaceourorder.It’scutehowhe’sourwaiter.When

hereturnsheslidesbackintotheseatoppositemine.“Order’sin.”

“Yousayitlikeyouworkhere.”
“Ido.WhenI’maround,”hecorrects.
“You’veonlybeenhereadayandalreadyyou’rethinkingofleavingagain?”
Heshrugs.Icantellhe’sconflicted.“It’sbeenharderthanIanticipated.”
“Youmustbetalkingaboutthehouse.”
Westnods.Hefoldshishandsonthetableandstaresdownatthemashespeaks.“Itriedtogoin.”
I shouldn’t interfere, but I feel as if maybe we could help each other. “We could try again after

breakfast,that’sifyouwantcompany.Imean,it’shardformetoo,butIdiditonce.Maybeyoujustneed
somesupportthefirsttime.”

Heeatsanotherpieceoffruit,buttossesagrapeatmebecauseIhaven’ttouchedthem.“Let’ssee

ifwecanmakeitthroughbreakfastwithoutwantingtokilloneanother.”

Isnicker.“You’vegotyourselfadeal.”
It’s awkwardly quiet for a few minutes. I snack on the fruit, while West gets up and chats with

people who haven’t seen him in forever. I notice Dane and one of the twins giving him a hug and once
over.They’reteasinghimaboutthefacialhairhe’syettototallyremove.

He’s getting on me about losing weight, yet I’m sure he’s down at least twenty pounds. He’s

skinny.Itmakeshimlookyounger,notunhealthy.

Isipatmycoffeeandfinishmyorangejuicebythetimehebringsbreakfasttothetable.Staringat

theamountoffoodIhavetoeat,Igulpandbringmygazetomeethis.Hissmileletsmeknowhe’sgoing
tomakemeeateverything.“It’salot.”

“Digin,kiddo.Saveroomfordessert,”hesayswithawink.
I’malmosttooqueasytostart.

Chapter23
Weston

Iknowshe’snotBrice.Kimbercouldn’tbeBriceifshetried,andIdon’tmeanthatnegatively.I

justmeanthey’redifferentpeople.Bricewasanoverachiever,whileKimberismorelaidback.Shejust
goeswiththeflow,evenifsheendsupatacrapmotelwaitingonassholesfortherestofherlife.

After breakfast, where Kimber purposely stuffs herself until she can barely move, I make a big

decision.BeeisatOysterCovehavingthetimeofherlifewithanotherdog.BrantandJamiewillbeover
fordinnerlater,andthey’rebringingtheirtwodogs.Whileshe’sinheaven,Ihavealottoworkthrough.
First on the agenda is getting the nerve to go into my house again. With the twins both working in the
kitchenattherestaurant,IknowI’llhavetheplacetomyselfanditterrifiesme.

Kimber’soffertogowithmeisalmostablessing.Ifanyonecanunderstandwhatit’sliketosee

Brice’s things, it’s her sister. Besides, I think it would be good for her to see I’m not holding her
responsibleanymore.Itwasaterribleaccident.She’ssufferedmorethanmeinherownway.She’slost
more.Herwholelifeisinshambles.

Weleavetherestaurantandarriveatmyhouseafewminuteslater.Ipullintothedrivewaybehind

my Virginia registered truck that my Dad went and got from the airport after I left last year. It’s been a
while,andItakeinthesightlikeit’sanoldfriend.Kimbergetsoutofhercarandwalksupthesidewalk
tothefrontentrance.She’swatchingme,waitingtoseeifIcanmanagethissmallfirststep.

Iclimboutandstickmynervoushandsinmypocket.WhenImakeittowhereshestandsIthink

it’sclearI’mnotpreparedforwhat’sinside.“Idon’tknowwhythisissodamnhard.Iknowshe’snotin
there.”

Kimberjinglesherkeys.“Youcandothis.Areyouready?”
Isimplyshrugandwatchassheworksthelockonthedoor.Itcreaksopenbutshedoesn’tenter.I

watchherhandextendformine.“It’sgoingtobeokay,West.”

Reluctant,Itakeherhandandallowhertoguideme.Myeyesstayfixedonthefloorasweenter.

Itstillsmellsthesame.Breathingindeeply,Iexhalewhileraisingmyeyestotakeinthesight.Kitchen.
Livingroom.Okay,it’snotsobad.MostpictureshavebeenputinboxesbecauseJamieandAliceknewI
couldn’thandleit.KimberletsgoofmyhandandwatchesasIsitonastoolatthebreakfastbar.Ifeel
likeI’mhyperventilatingandI’vebarelymadeittwofeetinside.Mygazegoestothekitchensink.Above
isawindowwhereamosaicpieceofglasshangs.WefounditatalocalantiquestoreandBricefellin
lovewithit.I’veneverbeenonetowearmyheartonmysleeve,butthisistorturous.Myeyesarestinging
asIfightbacktearsIdon’twanttocome.“It’shard.”

Kimbertouchesmyback.“Iknow.Babysteps.Wedon’thavetostay.”

Istandabruptly.“No.Ineedtodothis.OtherwiseI’mpathetic.”
“You’renot,’sheassuresme.“You’rehuman.”
Myhandisonthebackofthecouch.FromthisangleIcanseethedoortomybedroom.“When

youwereheredidyougoinmyroom?”

Ithinkshe’shesitanttotellmethetruth.“Well,don’tbemad.”
“I’mnot.Howbaditisinthere?”
“It’sjustasyouleftit,minusherclothes.”Kimberstepsinfrontofmeandforcesmetotakemy

eyesoffthedoor.I’mlookingatherandforthefirsttimesheseemssostrong.“Iwanttobefriends,West.
Idon’thaveanyoneelse.”

“Whyareyoutellingmethisrightnow?Don’tIhaveenoughgoingon?”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying it. You can pretend you’re okay with everyone else, but I know

you’renot.Neitherofusare.I’mnotsayingweshouldbebestiesandhang,butlet’sfaceit,weneedhelp.
Rightnowyouneedme.Youcanhatemelater.”

When she goes to turn around I stop her by grabbing her wrist. “I’m sorry for the things I said

aboutyou.”

“Why?Theyweretrue.”
Inod.“Maybe,butitwasn’tfairtojudgeyou.Everythingyoudid,Ididworse.Youjustgotmore

shitaboutitbecauseyou’reagirl.”

“IregretthewayIwas.”
Shepullsoutofmyhold.Iwanttoapologizeforgrabbingher,yetshedoesn’tseemoffended.“Me

too.Icouldhavebeenwithyoursisteralotsooner.”

“Webothneedtostopwishingwecouldgoback.It’sdepressinganddoesn’thelpmoveforward.”
“Yousoundlikeyoursisteragain.”
“Sorry.”Shescanstheroomtoavoidlookingatme.
“Don’tbe.It’snicetobereminded.”
Sheshrugsandoffersherhandagain.“Youcandothis,West.”
“Inahurrytogetawayfromme?”Iask.
“No.Imean,Ihavetoworktonight,butwe’vegotthewholeafternoonforthis.”
Idon’twanttoadmitI’mhappyaboutthat.ApartofmeknowsI’musingher,butit’snotlikeshe

can’tusethecompany.Iletherguidemetothedoor.There’salotofemotionsbuildingupwhenIpullthe
keyoutofmypocketandgiveittoher.“Howdidyougetin?”

“Screwdriver.”
There’snotimetoquestionit.Thedoorslowlyopens,abrightnesshittingmeimmediatelylikean

angelisstandingintheroomwaitingforus.Forasecondit’sthemostbeautifulthingI’veeverseen,buta
cloudmustcomeandhidethesunbecausethebeamoflightdisappears.ThenI’mleftlookingataroom
fullofmemories.

IhavetoturnaroundbeforeIcanmanagetowalkinside.Tearsarewellingupinmyeyes.WhenI

wipethemawayandtwistaroundIseethatKimberhasalreadygoneinside.Shesitsdownonthesideof
thebedandwaitsforme.“It’sokay.”

Ishakemyhead.“Notreally.”It’shard,butItakeitonestepatatime,focusingonherfaceinstead

ofalltheremindersaroundme.Itaketheseatbesideherandclosemyeyestocalmmybreathing.“Idon’t
thinkIcanbehere.”

Herhandcomesovermineandsheleavesitthereasshetalks.“KeepyoureyesclosedandI’ll

walkyouaroundtheroom.Howdoesthatsound?”

It’sthebestofferever.“Thatmightactuallyhelp.”
Herholdremainsasshebegins.“We’resittingonthebed.It’shalfmade,hersideisstillpulled

down.Thereareacouplethingsonhernightstand,butnothingtoopersonal.Thecurtainsaretheonesshe

got at that home show you went to. The flowers sort of match the bedding. There’s a hairbrush on the
dresser.Itstillhassomeofherhairinit.”Shesqueezesmyhandlikeshe’sstrugglingherself.

“Youokay?”Iquestion.
“Yeah.Icandothis.”HervoicecrackswhenshesaysitandIhearasniffle.She’scryingandI’m

beingapussy.Iopenmyeyesandlookather.Ican’tbelieveIdidn’thearitinhervoice.“I’mokay,”she
manages.

“Thisisstupid.”Ipullawayfromherholdandstand.BeforeI’mabletosayanythingthepicture

onthewallgrabsmyattention.I’mstandingfrozenintimelookingatthelifethatusedtobemine.

ThenIloseit.
Kimbercomesupbehindmeandofferssupport.Iturnandweweeptogether.There’stearsand

snotandlotsofhugging.Eventuallywepartandtrytocalmdown.“I’msorryforthat,”Isay.

“It’sokay.Reallyit’sfine.”
Kimber reaches up and touches one of the photo collages. “I remember this trip,” she mentions

withalingeringsniffle.“We’dneverbeenskiingbefore.”

“Thatwasafunweekend.Youbroughtthatlittledickheadwiththenosering.”
Welaughinbetweenthesadness.“Hewasadouche.Wow.Don’tremindme.”
BeforeIknowwhat’shappeningI’mstandingbesideherlookingateachphoto.It’sgettingeasier,

andIknowIwouldn’tbedoingitifshewasn’twithme.“Shewasalwayshappy.Shecouldfindthegood
inanything.”

“Shecould.IwishIhadherfocus.”
“There’sstilltime.”
Sheburstsintolaughter.“Yeahright.Haveyouseenmycurrentsituation?”
“Ididn’tsayitwouldbeeasy.”
Kimbermovestothenextframe.Shetouchesaphotoofmekissinghersister.“Ihaveacopyof

thisone.ItwastakenthatoneThanksgivinginouroldbackyard.”

“Itwasyoursister’sfavoriteofus.”
Mystomachfeelslikeit’sinknots.Itwasprobablyamistaketoeatbeforewecamehere.While

Kimbermakesherwayaroundtheroom,Ifocusonthehairbrush.It’sinmyhandbeforeIcanbeginto
considerwhatitwoulddototouchapartofBriceagain.Herhair.It’ssuchastrangethinghowitremains
thesameforever.Istrokethespokesofthebrushandrememberthewayitsmelledafterafreshshower.
WhenIraiseittomynosethefamiliarscentleavesmebreathless.It’sstillthere.

I’msittingonthebedwithahairbrushagainstmychest,fightingbackanotherboutoftearsIrefuse

toletout.Ican’tkeepdoingthis.Ican’tliveeverydayandnotbeabletomoveforward.It’sbeenayear
andahalfandI’mstillreeling.“Idon’tknowifIcanstayhere.”

Kimberturnsandflashesaworriedlook.I’veonlybeenbackforaday,butIknowwe’vebeen

bonding. We’re connected through Brice so the idea of me leaving again must hit a nerve. She’s so
differentthanIrememberher.MaybeIwasinmyownselfishlittlebubbleandneverrealizedtherewas
anotherpartofher.Ifeelbadforthat.IsaidalotofshittythingsaboutKimber,evenbeforeBricepassed
away.

“WouldyougobacktoAlaska?”
Ishrug.“Idon’tknow.”
“Takemewithyou,”shepleadswithoutthought.“I…”
“Iwaslivingwithsomeoneelse,Kimber.”
“Oh.”ShelooksawayandIrealizeshehasthewrongidea.
“Awaterman.He’sfromtheisland.”
“Ofcourse.Igetit.Ishouldn’thaveasked.IjustthoughtIcouldstartovertoo.”
I sigh. How long can I run? My whole family is on this little island. If I leave again I’m

abandoningthem.“I’mgoingtotalktoCalebandCoopwhentheygetoffworktonight.Ithinkyoushould
moveyourthingsintothethirdbedroomupstairs.Yoursisterwouldn’twantyoustayingatthatmotel.It’s
notsafe.”

“YouactlikeIserveabunchofcriminals.”
Iholdupmyhands.“Ijustthoughtyou’dwanttobehereinyoursister’shouse.”
“Ido,”shecorrectsme.“I’dneveraskthough.Iknowhowyoufeelaboutme.”
“Stopit,Kimber.I’mtryinghere.”
“Iknow.Sorry.It’shabit.”
Ithinkforasecondandcomeupwithagoodidea.“Youcantaketheofficeifyou’dratherhave

yourownspace.We’dhavetoaddabathroom,butthere’salreadyplumbingoutthereforthelittlekitchen
area.”

Hereyeslightup.“Why?Whywouldyoudothisforme?”
“BecauseIneedtodosomething.”
“No.Youreallydon’t,”sheremindsme.Kimberbeginstocry.“Youneedtohatemeforruining

yourlifethatnight.Iwantyoutohatemeforlivingwhenshedied.Iwantyoutoloathemeforgettingone
ofherorgans.Youcan’tbenicelikethis.It’snotright.YouandIwereneverfriends.Iknowthisisn’t
whatyouwant.”

She starts to leave the room, but only makes it to the kitchen before she crying too hard to

continue.

She’sfragileandscared.She’sconfusedandbroken.Wehavesomuchincommonit’ssickening.I

approach,butkeepagooddistancebetweenus.“You’rerightaboutalotofthings,Kimber.Weweren’t
friends. For a long time I hated you. You were always doing stupid shit. I blamed you for that night. I
blamedyoufortakingherfromme.Itmademesicktolearnyougotherorgan.Iwantednothingtodowith
you.ForawhileIwantedtodie.”

She’snolongercrying.She’spantingandlookingatmelikewe’reabouttofight.“Finally.”
Iholdmyhandsup.“ButIwaswrong.”
Shepushespastme.“I’moutofhere.Thiswasamistake.”
InsteadofchasingafterherIwatchassheleaves.Thesoundofhercarpullingawayleavesmeto

realizeI’maloneinmyhouse,surroundedbyalifeInevergottohave.

Chapter24
Kimber

I’msostupid!
Why would I think he’d be different? Did I really assume my stories would change the way

WestonWallacelookedatme?

Ispendtherestoftheafternooncryinginmycar,whileit’sparkedinaneighborhoodsohe’snot

abletotrackmedown.Imadeafoolofmyself.Iallowedsomeonewhohatesmetomakemefeelwanted
again.I’mmorepatheticthanIthought.

Whenit’stimeformyshiftIheadhome,changeoutofmyregularclothesandpreparetogotothe

jobIdon’treallymind.Mybossgivesmeawarningtorememberthecustomerisalwaysright.Ipretend
tocareuntilheleavesmealonetodomything.

It’sstillearlyandthebarisprettyslow.I’mleaningagainstthecounterwatchingthetelevision

whiledryingsomewashedmugswhenIhearthesoundofapatroncomingthroughthedoor.Westextends
hishandandholdsuptwofingers.“Icomeinpeace.”

“IfmybossseesyouhereI’mgoingtolosemyjob.”
“I’msorryaboutearlier.”
“Ifyou’renotgoingtodrinkyouneedtoleave.”
“Givemesomethingthen.WhiskeyandCoke.”
Imakehimaheavydrinkandslideitinhisdirection.“That’llbesixbucks.”
“Can’tIrunatab?”
“No.LasttimeyouwerehereIwasstiffedfromthefoolsyoubeatup.Thathadtocomeoutofmy

pocket.”

“Damn.Sorryfortakingupforyou.”
Igetbacktothemugswhiletalkingtohim,eventhoughIwishhe’dleave.I’mnotinthemoodfor

morepity.“Whatdoyouwant,West?”

“IwanttobethemanBricewouldexpecttobe.”
“Sodoingthingsformewillgetyouthere?”
“No.”HeshakeshisheadasifI’mnotunderstandinghim.Hisfacescrunchesupandherubsthe

bridgeofhisnose.“WhatIsaidearlier,Iwasbeinghonest.”

“Noshit.That’swhyIleft.”
“You’renotgettingit,Kimber.Yeah,IfeltthatwayaboutyouwhenIlostBrice.Ineededsomeone

toblame.Evenyousaidyoublamedyourself.”

“That’sdifferent.”

“Maybe.Youaskedmetobehonest.Iknewitwouldhurtyourfeelings,butIalsoknowthatpart

ofhealingisgettingeverythingoutonthetable.”

Ileanmyhandsagainstthecounter.“Youwanteverythingoutonthetable?”
Henods.“Giveittomestraight.”
I huff. He has no idea what he’s in for. “She was always too good for you. That’s why my dad

hatedyou.Youdidn’tdeserveher.”

RightawayIknowI’vehitanerve,buttheproblemisIdon’tmeanawordofit.Ineveragreed

withmydad,becauseIalwaysfeltlikeWestwastheperfectguy.He’sgreatlookingwiththebestsenseof
humor.He’scaringandpatient.Heputmysisterfirstandlovedhernomatterwhat.Hestilldoes.I’vejust
rippedhimapartformyownpersonalamusement.

BeforeIcanretractthoseawfulwordshestandsandtossesmoneyonthecounter.Oureyesmeet

forasecondandhehalfsmilesbeforewalkingout.

Ittakesmeafewminutestostopcrying.Itriedtorunoutside,buthewasalreadypullingaway.

WhenIgobackinsideIfindahundreddollarbillisonthecounter.He’spaidforthetabthemenleftand
thensome.NowIfeellikeacompleteasshole.

Watchingtheclockislikeholdingaguntomyheadandpullingthetriggerrepeatedly,prayingit

won’tblowmybrainsout.I’mstressedtothemax.Idon’tknowwhattodo.It’sonlynineandIcan’ttake
itanymore.IremovetheapronIweartoservedrinksandringthebellfortheboss.Hecomesinlooking
likehewassleeping.“Whatdoyouneed?”

“Ihavetogo.”
Hecrosseshisarms.“You’renotgoinganywhereuntilyourshiftisover.”
“It’s officially over now. I quit. The tab I owe you is in the register. I have a family emergency

that’smoreimportantthanthisjob.I’msorry.”I’malreadywalkingoutthedoor.I’llfiguresomethingelse
out.FornowIhavetotrackdownWestandapologize.I’manidiot.

He’snotatOysterCove,andI’vealreadydrivenbyhishousetwice.ThelastplaceIcheckisthe

restaurant.Sureenoughhistrucksitsinthelot,buttherestauranthasbeenclosedforhours.Ilookupand
seethetavernisopen.Ofcoursehe’dendupdrinkinghimselfintoastupor,becauseit’sexactlywhatI
woulddo.

I make my way up the stairs and take a deep breath. This isn’t like finding him in a public

establishment.ThisisWallaceterritoryandI’mgoingtobeintruding.There’snotellingthekindofhell
I’mgoingtogetforsteppingfootinside,especiallyifhe’stoldthemanythingIsaidabouthimearlier.

Ienterwithfear.Themusicisloudandthebarispacked.Everysingletableisoccupied.It’snot

hardtofindWest.IscantheroomforaWallaceandcomeupwiththemall.Theymustbecelebratinghis
returnandI’minterfering.Quicklyrealizingheprobablydoesn’tcarewhathappenedearlier,Itrytoleave
beforebeingspotted.I’mhalfwayoutthedoorwhensomeoneisgrabbingmyshirt.It’sWest.“Wheredo
you

think

you’re

going?”

He

asks

with

slurred

words.

It’s

sound

more

like

‘wheredayooothinkyooorgoinnng’.

IspinaroundandcomefacetofacewiththeguyIsaidsuchawfulthingstoearlier.Hepushesme

outonthedecksowe’realone.“You’relate.”

“Iwasn’tinvited.”
“You’remysister.Ofcourseyou’reinvited.”
We stand for a second staring at each other. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I want to beg him to

forgiveme,butIdoubthe’scoherentenoughtounderstand.“Why’dyoudragmeoutsidethen?”

“Youhavetosaythepassword.”
“Thewhat?”
Hewaves.“Ohforgetit.Comeon.Everyone’swaiting.”

He drags me along until I’m standing surrounded by his whole family. The twins and I go way

back. We went to high school together and hung out with the same group of friends. They both
acknowledgeme,butIcantelleveryoneisabitconfusedwhyI’mthere.It’sobviousWesttoldthemwe
didn’tgetalongbefore.

Idomybesttokeepfromfreakingout.“Hi!”
Westhandsmeadrink.It’sgreen.IhavenoideawhatI’mabouttoconsume,buthetipsthecup

and helps it along. It’s apple flavored. A Washington Apple. It’s sweet and strong at the same time. He
wavestoAlice.“Canwegetanother?”

BrantandJamiearebothlaughingathim.“Haven’tyouhadenough,bro?”
“It’sneverenough,man.Stopbeingsuchalightweight.”
OutofthecornerofmyeyeIseeBristolandherfatherlookingatme.Ismile,butdon’tgetthe

sameinreturn.Finallyshewalksovertowardme.“DidWestinviteyou?”

“Sortof.”
“Areyoufriendsnow,becauseifyou’renotyouneedtogo.Wejustgothimback.Hedoesn’tneed

reasonstoleaveagain.”

“Iwouldn’t…”ThenIrealizeIgavehimatonofreasonsearlier.NowIfeelworse.
“Don’tmessthingsupforhim,Kimber.Weallwanthimbackhomeforgood.”
ItakeherwarningandsiponthenextdrinkI’mhanded.I’llbedrunkinnotime,becauseInever

getintothehardstuffandthisismixingseveral.Afterthethirdonemylipsgonumb.Ihavetostoporelse
I’ll be walking back to the motel. Jamie and Brant are the first to leave. The twins go next, which
surprisesme.TheywerewithtwowomenI’veneverseenbefore.BristolstartshelpingAlicebehindthe
bar,whileDane,BuckandChrissitatatableinadeepconversation.Westcomesbackinsidefromseeing
hisbrothers’offandgivesmeaonceover.“Whendidyougethere?”

“I’vebeenhere.”SuddenlyI’mveryuncomfortable.It’sobviousIshouldn’thavesteppedfootin

thisplace.“I’mabouttogohome.It’saprettylongwalk.”

“Nottomyhouse,”hemumbles.
“I’mnotgoingtoyourhouse.Iliveatthemotel,remember?”
“Itoldyoutomoveintothehouse,remember?”Thewayhesaysitalmostmakesmelaugh.He’s

gettinghardertounderstand.

Buckcallsovertous.“West,doyouneedaridehome?”
“No,Briceisgoingtowalkme.”
Ifreeze.WhileWesthasnoideawhathe’ssaid,hisfatherheardwhatIdid.HecalledmeBrice.

Thenheproceedstoputhisarmaroundmeforsupport,whenI’mbarelyabletoholdmyselfup.Ilookto
hisdadlikeIhavethingsundercontrol,becauseIdon’twantthesepeopletohateme.“It’sokay.I’llmake
surehegetstothehouse.Ihaveakey.”

“Areyousure?Idon’tminddriving.”
“It’safewblocks.Ithinkthecoldairwilldohimsomegood.”
“Makesurehetakessomepainkillersanddrinkswaterbeforebed.It’llhelptomorrow.”
He’swavingtothem,adrinkstillinhishand.“Thanksforthememories!”
HowIgotmyselfintothissituationisastounding.Ontopofthat,I’mtipsyasshitandwondering

howlongit’sgoingtotakemetogethiminsideandsafebeforeIcanstartonmywaytothemotel.We
makeitdownthestepsbeforehepinsmeagainstthebuilding.Hishotliquorfilledbreathisagainstmy
face.“AbouttimeIgotyoualone.”

HislipshitmineandIfreakout,shovingwithallmymight.“West,stop!I’mKimber.”
It takes a few seconds for it to sink in. He puts his hand over his mouth and chuckles. “Oops.

Sorry.”

Ituckmyarminhisandpullhimalong.“It’sfine.You’redrunk.”

“I’mnotthatdrunk.Iknowwhoyouare.You’restillprettyeventhoughIhateyou.”
“Ihateyoutoo.Justkeepwalking.”
“Don’ttellyoursisterItriedtokissyou,”herequests.“She’llbepissed.”
“I’msureshe’llforgiveyou,”Iplayalong.
“It’slonelywithouther.”Onesecondhegetsitandthenexthe’scrazy.Ikeepputtingonefootin

frontoftheotherandpraywemakeittherewithouthimpassingout.

“Iknow.Imisshertoo.”
“It’sbetterwhenIdrink.”
“Seemslikeit.”I’malittleannoyedatthispoint.
West stops me when we’re almost to his street sign. He takes his finger and runs it across my

cheek.“Ihavetotakeapiss.”

Imotioninthedirectionofanearbybush.“Gooverthere.”
“Canyouholdmydrink?”
WhenItakeitIknowhe’snotgettingitback.IstarttotossitbeforethinkingImayneedittostay

warm.I’malreadysweatingoutthefirstones,soonemoreisn’tgoingtohurt.Iswallowbeforehe’sable
toreturn.Whenhedoeshetakestheglassandtipsitupsidedown.“Whathappened?”

“Itevaporated.”
“Evaaapoureighted,”ishowthewordgetsrepeated.
“Yep.Nowletskeepmoving.Icanalmostseethehouse.”
“Ican’tfeelmyfeet.Makesurethey’rethere.”
WestopagainsoI’mabletoreassurehim.“Yourfeetarefine.Comeon,you’repissingmeoff.”
Hestopsusagainandtakesmebythehanduntilhe’spulledmeupagainsthim.Idon’tknowwhat

todo,soIstandtherepreparedtokickhimintheballs.“Didanyoneevertellyouhowmuchyoulooklike
her?”

Inod.Mystomachisinknots.I’muncomfortable,butatthesametimeIhaven’tbeentouchedby

anyoneinaverylongtime.It’swrong.Idon’twanttobeherewithhim.I’veneverevenconsideredbeing
withhiminanyway.Hewasgoingtobemybrother.“Occasionally.”

Hecupsmyfaceandnarrowsinonmymouth.“Imissherlips,”hewhispers.
Mybodyisshaking.Thisiswrongineveryway.“West,pleasedon’tdothis.You’redrunk.I’m

notBrice.”

“Youcouldbe,justforalittlewhile.Pleaseletitbereal.”
I feel so terrible for him that I let him kiss me. His whiskers tickle my face at first. I’m not

experiencedwithkissingbeardedmen.Therearenoemotionsonmyend.I’mstandingstilllettinghiswet
mouthcourseovermine.It’sreallysloppyandawfulandmyheartbreakswhenIthinkabouthowmuch
thismeanstohim.ThenIgiveinandsayscrewit.Thismanwantstobelievehe’skissingBrice.I’llnever
beher,buthewon’trememberthis,soitwon’thurt.Whatstartsoutassomethingawfulsuddenlybecomes
amutualembrace.Hishandswandertothesmallofmybackwhileourtonguesminglelikeoldlovers.
The alcohol is making this happen. I keep telling myself it’s the liquor. There’s no way I’d do this
otherwise.MaybeinmyoldlifeI’dmakebadchoiceslikethisone,butI’mdifferentnow.

Westdoesn’tpullawayuntilheleavesmebreathless.Hemaynotbecoherent,butafterthatkiss

I’mseeingthingsentirelytooclear.Iwipeawaytheremnantsandtrynottomakeeyecontactwithhim.
“Let’sgetyouinside.”

Hepullsmeagainsthimagain.“Imissedyousomuch,Brice.Iloveyou,babe.”
My bottom lip trembles as I manage to get him moving again. Tears fall down my cheeks and I

praytheguiltwillgoawayonceI’mhomesafeinmybed.Wegettothefrontdoorandhewaitsformeto
open it. He’s stumbling through the living room, pulling me along with him. My plan is to take off his
shoes,gethimcoveredup,andgetthehelloutofthereasfastasIcan.Iwashopingthetwinswouldbe

here,butthehouseisdarkandquiet.TheonlysoundsareWesttrippingoverhisowntwofeet,theoneshe
thoughtweren’tthereafewminutesago.

We make it into the bedroom and he plops down on the bed. At first I think this will be easy. I

untie both shoes and tug them off his feet, one almost flinging me across the room when I have to pull
hard.I’mjustabouttostandupandbackawaywhenhetakesmebythewaistandpullsmeontopofhim.

Istruggletogetfree.“West,pleasestop.I’mnotBrice,I’mKimber.Lookatme.I’mKimberyou

fool.Youdon’tevenlikeme.We’renotfriends,remember?”

Ittakesacouplesecondsandthenhe’scrying.
Ihatedrunkpeople.
I’mstuckinhisarmswhilehe’scryingbecauseI’mnotmysister.Shootmenow.
WhenhissnifflesfinallystopItrytofreemyselfagainwithnochange.“West,pleaseletmego.I

needtogetbacktothemotel.It’sgettinglate.”

Hehugsmetighter.“Pleasedon’tgo.”
“You’rebeingridiculous.”
Heloosenshisholdandstaresatmeforasecond,andIhonestlybelievethistimehe’sstartingto

soberupenoughtorealizeI’mKimberandhe’sholdingmehostageinhisbed.ButI’mwrong.“Ikissed
you.”

“Yeah,youdid.”
“Youlikedit.”
Irollmyeyes.“OhJesuspleasegetmeoutofhere.”
“I’mnotJesus.I’mWeston.”
Alaughescapesme.Itossmyarmsaroundwhilestillinhisconstraints.“Igiveup.”
Westnestleshisheadagainstmychestandcloseshiseyes,likehe’scomfortableenoughtosleep.

I’msidewaysonahalf-madebedwithadrunkman.“CanIatleastgetup?Ineedtopee.”

“Promiseyouwon’tleave.”
Isighandshakemyhead.Assoonashe’sasleepI’mgoingouttothecouch.“Yes,Ipromise.”
I’mfinallyfreedandmakeadashforthebathroom,whereIlockmyselfinside.I’mleaningagainst

thevanitylookingmyselfinthemirror.“WhathaveIgottenmyselfintonow?Brice,Ineedyourhelp.I’m
so sorry I let him kiss me. I’d never do that to you. It just …” I can’t even explain my way out of it,
becauseforafewsecondsIcontributedtothatkiss.

I sit on the toilet and wipe my face with my hands. My heart is racing and I’m freaking out.

Growing up I always had a boyfriend or admirer. It was nice always feeling wanted. Then, after the
accident I took myself off the market. I stopped responding to messages and gave up hope that anyone
couldwantmeagain.KissingWestwaswrong,butitfeltnice.Itwasnicetobetouched,tofeelwanted,
evenifitwasn’treal.

Ijumpwhenhesaysmyname.Myname,notBrice’s.
“Kimber!Where’dyougo?”
Itakeadeepbreath.“Thisisn’thappeningtome.It’snotreal.I’mdreamingthis.”
Myfaceisnumb.IflickmylipstoseeifIcanfeelthem.Negative.Everythingismessedup.I’m

screwed.

“I’mcoming.”
WhenI’mbackinthebedroomhe’ssittingupwaitingforme.“Ican’tsleep.”
“You’rebeingababy.It’sbeenthreeminutes.”
Istandoverthebedforafewsecondshopinghe’llletmetakeapillowandgoouttothecouch.

Heextendshishandformetotake.I’mdeterminedtopullawaybeforehecangetmebackinthatbed,so
Ileanmyweighttothebackwhenmyhandgoesintohis.Hisfacecomesdownandhekissesitgentlythen
letsgo.“Ijustwantedtofeelitagain.”

Inod.“Iknowyoudid.I’msorryI’mnotBrice.”
“No.You’renotBrice,”heagreesinaweirdway.“You’resomeoneelseentirely.”
It’shardformetonottakeoffense.I’vealwaysbeencomparedtoBrice,andthisfeelslikehe’s

doingthat.ApparentlyIcan’tkissasgoodasher.I’lladdthattomylistoffailures.

Idon’twaitformoreofhisbullshit.InsteadItakeapillowandwalkoutoftheroom.
AssoonasI’msnuggledunderathrowcoverIhearhimcryingagain.It’ssoannoyingIfeelthe

needtocheckonhim.NosoonerdoIflickthelightondoeshesitup,nowshirtless.“Areyouokay?”

Heshakeshishead.“Beeisn’there.Shealwayssleepswithme.”
“You’recryingbecauseofyourdog?”It’sactuallyquitecute.
“No.”Hewipeshisface.“Ifuckedup,Kimber.I’msorryIkissedyou.It’sthealcohol.Imixeda

lotofshitbeforeyouarrived.”

“It’sokay.I’moverit.”
Hestands,theblanketfallingoffofhim.I’mtryingreallyhardnottopeekathistonedchest.His

armsspreadandhepullsmeintoahug.“You’reallIhaveleftofher.”

Iwrapmyarmsaroundhisback.“You’reallIhaveleftofhertoo.I’msorryforwhatIsaidto

you.Ididn’tmeanit.”Iclosemyeyesandtakeinthewarmthcomingoffofhim.“Icametoapologize.”

“ThenIkissedyou.”
“Well,firstyougotmebuzzed.”
Hepullsawayandtakesmein.Ireachupandwipethetearawayfromhisfaceandheleansinto

it,closinghiseyesforasecond.Hespeakswhilethey’restillshut.“Ihaven’tbeentouchedsincethenight
oftheaccident.”

Ihatethinkingabout.“Ihaven’tbeentouchedsincebeforethat.”
Whenheopenshiseyeshe’sstaringintomine.It’sunexpected.Thisdrunkenconnectionmakesme

uncomfortable. His next kiss is unprovoked and consuming. His hands come up around the back of my
neckandthenthroughmyhair.Iholdontohisstrongshouldersandstopfightingit.It’sjustakiss.Wehad
too much to drink and we’re emotional. It happens. It’s not like we’re cheating. We’re both lonely. It
doesn’t have to mean anything. His whiskers tickle their way around my mouth, as his skilled tongue
matchesmygroove.ForjustafewminutesIforgetwhoweareandgowithit.

Onekissturnsintoafewmore.Hedoesn’tpresstogofurther,notthatI’dlethim.Whenhe’sdone

he presses his head against mine and we both close our eyes. “You must think I’m a real piece of shit
now.”

“Nomorethanme.”
“She’sbeengonealongtime,butbeinghomemakesitfeellikeitjusthappened.Icouldreallyuse

afriendwhogetsit.”

“I do get it,” I say as I open my eyes to find his. I lick my lips and consider kissing him again,

because unlike the first time they were pretty fantastic, but then I restrain. “You should try to get some
sleep.”

“Kimber,”hecallswhenIpullaway.“Willyoujuststayinheretonight?I’llsleepwithseparate

coversandyoucanputpillowsbetweenus.Ijustneedtoknowsomeoneisnexttome.”

It’saterribleidea.
“Okay.”
Fiveminuteslater,afterI’vegottenhimTylenolandsomewater,I’msettingupapillowmountain

inthecenterofthebed.Westrollssohisbackistome.He’skeepinghiswordandgivingmeprivacy.I’m
tooconfusedoverthekissingtounderstandanythingthismansays,butI’mexhausted.It’sbeenalongday.
OntopofeverythingelseIquitmyjob.Rockbottomwashard,butnowI’mbeyondthat.I’mprettysure
I’mdiggingmyownpersonalpathtoHell.

Chapter25
Weston

Iwakeandfindthatmyhandisstucktosomething.It’sahand.Afemalehand.Ijerkuprightand

lookoveralargemoundofpillows.AtfirstIthinkI’mdreaming.Thatresemblancegetsmeeverydamn
time. Flashes of last night come crashing back, some good and some unforgivable. “Shit,” I whisper to
myselfwhiletryingtounlaceourhandswithoutwakingher.Idoaquickchecktomakesureshe’sclothed.
Sheis.

Thankgoodness.
Inthemirror,whilebrushingmyteethIstarebackatsomeoneIbarelyrecognize.Thebeardneeds

togo,andIcoulduseashowertowashawaythefunkofthenightbefore.Istartthewaterandtakethe
scissorsfromthevanitydrawer.Ineedtoatleastcutitshortenoughsotherazorwilldotherest.Itrim
thelongpartsandpulloutmyelectricrazor.Itbuzzesonandstartstoerasethemonthsofgrowthonmy
face.Whenit’sallsaidanddonethereisashapedbitofhairstillleft,buttherestisniceandsmooth.I
flushthehairandthenjumpintheshowertowashtherestaway.WhenIgetoutIwrapatowelaroundme
andgointothebedroomtofindsomeclothes.Ihaven’tbeenhomeinalongtime.I’mnotevensureifthe
clothesneedtoberewashedbynow,butIfindboxers,aT-shirtandapairofjoggers.Istayinthecloset
and dress since Kimber is still in the bedroom. There’s no way to know what will happen when she
wakesup.Shedidn’tdrinkenoughtoforgetwhathappened,andI’mkindofgladsinceshe’llwakeupand
be in my bed. God, I feel like a terrible person. She was there and I was messed up. It just happened.
Thenithappenedagain.ThesecondtimeIknewwhatIwasdoing.That’swhatisreallykickingmeinthe
ass.IactuallywantedtokissBrice’ssister.

She’sshufflingthecoversoffwhenIcomeoutofthecloset.Kimberwipeshereyesandscansthe

room.“Whattimeisit?”

“Stillearly.”
“Howdoyoufeel?”
“Physically,fine.Otherwise,prettystupid.”
Shenodsandsmirks,likeshesawthishappening.Kimberstandsandstretchesoutherarms.She

passedmeandgoesintothebathroomlikeit’snotbotheringher.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed when she comes out. “Stop being weird, West. It’s only a big

dealifyoumakeitone.”

“Soyou’renotmad?”
She sighs while pulling the covers up to make the bed. “We’ve said and did things that were

hurtfulanduncalledfor.Thetruthis,Ihavenooneelseinmylife.I’maloneandprettyfuckingdesperate.

Ididn’texpect…”Shestopsandcoversherfaceforasecond.“Ithappened.Wemadeout.Sowhat?I’ve
made out with plenty of people. It’s just kissing. We were drinking and emotional and it happened. I
remindedyouofmysister,andthenyoumadeitclearIwasnothinglikeher.I’mfinewithit.”

Shesaysshe’sokay,butshe’sclearlyoffended.WhileItrytofigureoutwhattosay,shepassesby.

“I’mgoingtoheadbacktomyplace.LikeIsaidlastnight,I’msorryforwhatIsaidatthebarearlier.It
washurtfulandIdidn’tmeanit.”

“Yeahyoudid,”Ichallengeher.“Andyou’reprobablyright,atleastaboutsomethings.”
“Well,thesamegoesforyou.”
Irubmyface.“Canwejusttakeasecondtofigureouthowtobefriends?”
“Itriedthatlastnight.IwascomparedtomysisterandthenaskedtostickaroundeventhoughI’m

apparentlyaterriblekisser.”

Ishakemyhead.“Imayhavebeendrunk.Thingsarefuzzy,butIneversaidyouwereabadkisser,

Kimber.Don’tputwordsinmymouth.”

“OhI’msorry.Thatwasmytongue.Ialmostforgot.”
She’sbeingflipwithme.It’showshedefendsherself.I’mstartingtofigureheroutandshe’snot

goingtolikeit.Istandandfaceher.Whenshetriestoturnawayandmoveinfrontagain.“Ineversaid
youweren’tagoodkisser.”

“Whatdoesitevenmatter?Idon’tcare.”
“Itmattersthatyou’reputtingwordsinmymouth.Ihatethat.”
“YousaidIcouldneverbeBrice.”
“Did you expect to kiss like your sister?” I scrunch up my face and throw my hands in the air.

“Pleasedon’tanswerthat.”Ican’tbelievewe’retalkingaboutthis.“Itwon’thappenagain,okay?”

Kimbercrossesherarms.“Finebyme.Itwasn’tgreatformeeither.”
It’s a kick to the balls. At least in her eyes. I snicker and shake my head, which is obviously

enoughtogetherbloodboiling.“Whyareyoulaughing?”

“Becauseyou’reridiculous.”
“Aboutwhat?”Sheplaysstupid.
“I’magoodkisser.”
“Noyou’renot!”Kimbermakesherwayintothelivingroom.She’satthekitchendoorbeforeI

catchup.“You’renotandwe’renevertalkingaboutthisagain.”

“Whereareyougoing?”
“Home.”
“Tothatmotel?”
“It’swhereIlive,West.”
Isigh.It’shardlythetimetobringuphermoving,butwhatthehell?“Youshouldbringyourthings

overhere.”

“What?You’rekiddingright?YouthinkI’llwanttojustmoveinherewithyouandyourbrothers

nowthatwemadeout?”

Ichuckle.“Ithasnothingtodowiththat.Iaskedbeforewekissed.”
There’sarumblingupstairsandthenIseeCaleb.“TherewaskissingandImissedit?”
Kimbercoversherfacewhileherheadshakeslikeshe’sneverbeensoembarrassed.
“Itwasadrunkenslip,”Iexplain.
Nowshe’stheonelaughing.“Whichtime?”
Mybrotherwillneverletthisgonow.“Okay,thekissisofflimits.”
“Kisses,”shecorrects.“Itwasmultiple.”
Isurrender.“Igiveup.Stayatthefleabagmotelforever,Kimber.”
“Good,Iwill.”ThebackdoorslamsshutandI’mstandingacrosstheroomfrommyverycurious

brother.

“So,youkissedKimber?”
Inod.“It’snotlikethat.”
“Ithoughtyoucouldn’tstandher.Youtoldusnottogoanywherenearher.”
“She’sdifferentnow.She’sbeenthroughalot.Itjusthappened.It’snotabigdeal.Getoffmyback

aboutit.”

“Touchy!”Calebtaunts.“Ifit’snobigdealwhyareyousosensitiveaboutit?”
“Because.It’sKimber.”Isitonastoolandtrytoclearmyhead.
“Didshesleepherelastnight?Didyouhookupwithher?”
“No!”I’mdefensiveforareason.He’shasthewrongidea.“KimberandImissBrice.We’reboth

stillhurting.ComingbackhasbeenharderthanIthought.WhenIwasawayitwaseasier.Ididn’thave
reminders everywhere I went. Man, I can’t drive down the road without thinking of a conversation or
circumstance.ThisislandislikeatimecapsuleofmylifewithBrice.Itsucks.Youdon’tknowhowhard
it’sbeentonotturnaroundandleaveagain.”

“Wedon’twantyoutogo,bro.”
Ithurtstothinkaboutleavingthemagain.“Iknow.”
“Look,wedon’tcareaboutwhatyouandKimberdo.Iwasjustgivingyouahardtime.”
“She’slivinginthemotelacrossfromMcDonalds.Herparentssplitupandthey’veprettymuch

writtenheroff.Shecouldusesomefriends,andifBricewashereshe’dwantustodowhatwecouldto
helpher.”

“Man,thatsucks.”
“Itoldhertomoveintotheroomupstairs.Ievensaidwecouldmaketheofficeaspaceforher

untilshegetsbackonherfeet.She’sfamily.”Ishakemyhead.“Iknowhowawfulthatsoundsafterwe
madeout,butyougetwhatImean.”

“Oh,nowyoumadeout.”Mybrotherhasnofilter.
“Igiveup.”
Calebmakesuseggsandwichesandwewatchalittleofthesport’snetworkbeforeheheadsout

toworkforDad.Itdoesn’ttakelongformetorealizeI’malonesurroundedbywallsthatfeellikethey’re
suffocatedme.Ichangeintoapairofjeansandhaulassoutofthere.AfterpickingBeeupfromOyster
Cove,Idecidetoheadtothebeach.WhenIpassthemotelIseeKimber’scar.Atleastshe’spredictable.

Thebeachisalwaysagoodplacetoreflectonlife.It’ssoothing,andhelpsmefocus.Foraslong

asIcanremembermyhearthasbeenbroken.I’mlost,andcominghomehasn’tchangedthat.Idon’tknow
if I’ll ever get over Brice, or even if I want to, but what I do know is that when I kissed Kimber the
secondtime,Iwantedittohappen.

I’mnotsayingI’minterestedinKimber.It’snotlikethat.Ijustwantedtoconnectwithsomeone.It

wasamistakeandnowsheprobablywon’tletmehelpher,whichisashame.

OnthewayhomeIstopbythemotel.Ican’tforcehertomove,orchangejobs,butIatleastwant

hertoknowshehasotheroptions.Iknocktwiceandwaitforhertoanswer.WhenthedoorcracksBee
pushes her way inside. I remain where I am until I’m invited to enter. She waits until I turn around to
speaktome.“Whatdoyouwant,West?”

“Doyouworktonight?”
SheshrugsandlooksatBee.“Iquitlastnight.”
“What?Didsomethingelsehappen?”
“No.Well,itwastheargumentwithyou.IfeltterribleandknewifIleftI’dbefired,sowhenthe

bosscameinIquit.”

“Youquityourjobsoyoucouldcomeapologizetome?Howdidyouknowwheretolook?”

“Ididn’t.Iwentlookingeverywhere.”
Ileanagainstacrappydresserandtakeinthesightoftheroom.It’snotmuchdifferentfromthe

ones upstairs. “You need to get out of this place. Come stay at the house. We’ll make the office your
personalspace.Youwon’tevenhavetoseeanyofus,andyou’llbemorecomfortable.”

“Youdon’thavetodothis,West.Yousaidityourself,youdon’tevenknowifyou’llstay.”
“Allthemorereasonforyoutomovein.Thehouseneedslifeinit.Thetwinsarehardlyhome.”
Kimberfidgetswithherfingernails.“Itwouldbenicetonothavetotakemylaundryanywhere.”
Ichuckle.Iknowthat’snottheonlyperk.“Doyouhavealottomove?”
Shepointstothedresserandasmallcloset.“EverythingIownisinthisroom.”
It’sverydisheartening.Thisoncespoiledwomanhasnothingleft.
“Whendoyouwanttobringeverythingover?”
Shefallsbackwardsonherbedwithherarmsspreadout.“Mylifeissuchamess.”
“I’mtryingtohelp.”
“You’redrivingmecrazy.”
AguffawescapesmewhenIsitdownonthemattressbesideherandfallback.We’restaringat

thesameoldstainedceilingnow.“Ididn’texpecttocomehometothis.”

“Towhat?You’regirlfriend’ssisterlivinginfilth?”
“No.Iwasn’tlookingforsomeonewhocouldunderstandwhatI’vebeengoingthrough,someone

whocouldbemyfriend,arealfriendthat’snotarelative.”

Kimberleansonherelbowandlooksatme.Ileanuptoosowe’refacingoneanother.“Ilovedmysister
morethanmyselfmostofthetime.Don’teverforgetthat,West.”

“Iadmireyouforit.”
“I’mgoingtomoveintothehouseuntilIcangetbackonmyfeetwithabetterjob.”
“Okay.”
Shesitsupandsighs.“Andnokissing.Friendsdon’tkiss.”
“Gotit.Nokissing.”
“Good.Letmegetmystufftogether.”
WhenshemovestotheothersideoftheroomIseeapictureonthenightstand.It’sherandBrice

huggingwithbigmatchingsmiles.It’sagreatpictureofbothofthem.IleanoverthemattressuntilI’m
abletoreachitandpullitcloser.IwonderwhatBricewouldsayifsheknewI’dkissedherlittlesister.I
trytothinkifshe’dbeupsetwithme,orunderstand.It’sweird,butIthinkshe’dunderstand.

“Thanksforgettingmehomelastnight,Kimber.Iapologizeforbeingoutofline.”
“It’scool.Youwerefunnyforthemostpart.”
“Calebthoughtweslepttogether,”Iadd.
Shestopswhatshe’sdoing.“Youmean,likewe…”
“Yeah.”
“Eww.Gross.Didyoutellhimwedidn’t?”
“Heknows.”Isitthepicturedownandstarthelpinghercarrythingsoutoftheefficiency.Things

areweirdbetweenusandthat’smyfault.I’llbebetterfromnowon.Ihavetobe,becausethisgirlneeds
allthehelpshecanget.

Chapter26
Kimber

I moved into the house with West and his brothers a month ago. I have to say, I’m enjoying the

comforts as well as amenities, not to mention living with three good looking guys, who happen to love
beingshirtless.WestsaidIcouldworkasaserverattherestaurant,butItoldhimIwantedtotakesome
timeoff.I’vespentthepastyearandahalfstrugglingandIjustwanttohavesometimeadjustingtothe
newchangesbeforejumpingintoanewjob.Pluswe’veyettocleanouttheofficeandI’mnotlooking
forwardtoiteither.

CalebandCoopdecidedtogoawayfortheweekendbeforethecrowdsstartcomingtotheisland.

Wehaveroughlyonemoreweekleftofpeaceandquiet.ForthepastsevendaysI’vebeenplantedtothe
sofabingewatchingtelevisionwithagiantfurrycompanionatmyside.BeeandIarebesties.Wesnuggle
andplay,andIevenpainthertoenails.Westdidn’tseemthatexcitedaboutitwhenIshowedhim,butat
leasthedidn’tgetmad.

Westspendshisdaysoutonthewaterwiththeguysjustlikeoldtimes.Ithinkhemissedworking.

Hetoldmehowmuchhe’dmakeintwoweeksinAlaska.It’sprettyamazing,butfromwhathesaidit’s
hardworkanddangerous.

Everynightthetwoofussitacrossfromoneanotherandhavedinner.HetalksabouthisdayandI

borehimwithbingeworthyshowsheneedstocatchupon.It’sweirdlivingtogether.Wegetalonglike
old friends and seem to enjoy each other’s company. I don’t feel uncomfortable around him. It’s the
opposite.IlikeknowingI’mnotalone.InalotofwaysWestistakingcareofme.TopayhimbackIclean
thehouseandattempttocookediblemeals.He’sbeenteachingsomethingstoimprovethewaythingsturn
out.Beeneverseemstocomplainaboutmycooking,butshe’sadogandIdorubherbellyforhoursata
time.

Whenit’stimeforbedWestandBeeheadintohisroomtogether,whileIgoupstairstomylittle

bedroom.MycomfortersetsitsontopofamuchmorecomfortablebedandIdon’thavetoworryabout
bugsorcreepypeopleknockingonmydooratnight.

If someone would have asked me where I’d be several years ago, it wouldn’t be here with the

guys. They’ve made me feel like I belong. We all kid around and get along. I actually think they like
havingme,especiallywhentheyhavetheirclotheswashedandfoldedwhentheygethome.

Withthehousetomyself,IsometimeshavemomentswhereIgetemotional.Itwasespeciallyhard

thedayItoldMomI’dmovedinwithWest.Ofcourse,shedidn’tknowhe’dreturned,andthenIhadto
hearabunchofshitabouthowinappropriateitlookstobelivinginhomewiththreegrownmen.

I’msureatsomepointmyfatherwillhearthenews,notthatIcare.Iowehimnothing.Atworst,

he can take my car back. I’m not too upset about it. West has two trucks, and I can ride Brice’s bike
anywhereontheislandIneedtogo.

Onthedaythetwinsaresettogoawaytheguysarehomeearly.Westyanksmeoffthecouchand

dragsmetothesteps.“Gochangeyourclothes.Hurryup.”

Iplacemyhandstomyhips.“I’mnotgoinganywherewiththishair.”
“Notevensurfing?”
Istoptalking.“Seriously?”
“Thewavesaregoodtoday.Ifiguredwecouldgobeforesunset,likeoldtimes.”
“Areyousure?”He’sbeenreluctanttogo.There’salotofthingsthatareofflimitswithWest.The

lighthouseisandwillprobablyalwaysbeoneofthem.Surfingwasanother,sothisisasurprise.

Hecloseshiseyesandsmiles,amellowtonedanswercomingwithit.“I’mcertain.Areyougoing

tocomewithme?”

I’malreadyrunningupstairstofindmywetsuit.“Bereadyinfive.”
We’rerushingtobeatthesettingsun.Wehavehours,butsurfingisn’tsomethingthat’sfast.It’sa

lot of waiting. My wetsuit is loose, but it’ll work. I grab the board out of the truck and freeze for a
moment as I look it over. The last person to use this was my sister. I run my hands down the base, the
stickywaxscrapingmyfingertips.“Youokay?”Westasksfromtheothersideofme.He’sgothisboardin
hishandandhiswetsuitpulleduptohiswaist.Hisbarecheststaresmeintheface.Iaccidentallytaketoo
longofapeekandhearhimclearinghisthroat.“EarthtoKimber.”

“Sorry.Badhabits.”
Helaughsandstartsrunningtowardthewaves.ImakesureI’mzipperedbeforefollowinghim.

Hestandsatthewater’sedgeandfinisheswithhissuitbeforecounting.Thenwetakeoff.

Thecoldwaterisrefreshing.Ibattletheriptidetomakeitpastthebreakingwaves.Westmakesit

looksoeasy,buthe’salotstrongerthanme.OnceI’mpoisedontheboard,andoutofbreath,Ilookover
tomyleftandseehimsmiling.“Yougood?”

“I’mfine,”Itellhimtoplayoffthestruggle.I’moutofshape.
Ileanforwardandrestmychinontheboardwhilelookingupanddownthecoastline.Therearea

fewothersurfersawaysdown,butnoneclosetous.Thewavesaren’tspectacularbutwe’reabletoride
several in before the sun starts disappearing beyond the horizon. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was to
watch.Welayonourbacksfloatingwhileseagullsflyaboveourheads.Ipointtothesky.“Doyouthink
she’supthere?”

“Yeah,Ido.”
“Ithinkshetriedtostopmefromkillingmyself.Iswearsomethingmademestop.Doyoubelieve

itcouldhavebeenher?”WestistheonlypersonItalktoaboutBrice.It’seasynow.It’ssomethingwe
sharebetweeneachother.He’sbecomethebestfriendI’veeverhad.Itrusthimandknowhelooksoutfor
me.

“Ithinkshe’ddojustaboutanythingtokeepyousafeandalive.Kindaliketheorganthing.”
I look over in his direction and see he’s staring at me. “I appreciate you, West. You know that

right?”

Hechuckles.“Sometimesyousaytheweirdestthings,butyeah,Igetit.”
Idon’tknowwhyIfeellikegivinghimahardtime,butanideapopsinmyheadandIgowithit.

“SoIranintothisguytheotherdayatthegrocerystore.WedatedafewtimesandheaskedifIwantedto
havedinnerwithhim.”

Westseemscurious.“Whatdidyoutellhim?Whoisit?”
He’sbeingprotectiveasusual,butlatelyIfeellikethere’ssomethingelsegoingon,andI’mnot

about to ask for another kiss when the last ended the way it did. “I said sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m
seeinganyone,right?”

“Yeah,sure.Ifit’smakesyouhappythenyoushouldgooutandhaveagoodtime.”
Ikeepatit.“WhatifIwanttobringhimhome?Wouldthatbeokay?I’mjusttryingtofigureoutif

you’regoingtoactallprotectiveoverme.”

Helooksaway,butkeepsactinglikeI’mamusinghim.“I’mnotyourdad.”
“Ineversaidyouwere.”
Thewindwhipsandcausesgoosebumpstocovermyskin.Ishiverabitandnoticehe’srubbing

thesidesofhisarms.“Weshouldheadin.”

We’resittingsidebysideinthesandwatchingthelastremnantsofthesun.Westlightsasmallfire

infrontofusaswecoverupintwooversizedtowels.He’sbroughtacoolerofrawhotdogsandbeer.It’s
not exactly spectacular, but I happen to love it. We search the dunes for sticks we can use to roast the
meat.Iremovemywetsuitwhilehestartsgettingthehotdogsreadytocook.Mysmallbikinistickstothe
suit fabric and starts to not cover certain private areas. Before I can turn to hide myself I catch him
lookingatme.Everypartofmybodyisinstantlyhot.He’snevermademefeelthiswaybefore.Idon’t
knowhowtotakeit.QuicklyIdiscardthewetsuitandthrowonanoversizedsweatshirtIgrabbedfrom
the laundry room. When I’m back at the campfire he refuses to look in my direction, even when he’s
handing me a cooked hotdog. I burn my arm from his neglect and suck in a breath of air as I try not to
scream.“Shit!”

“Sorry.Iwasn’tpayingattention.”Hetakesmyarminhishandandlooksitover.It’stoodarkto

evenseewhereittouchedmeandtobehonestitscaredmemorethanitdiddamage.

Ipullaway.“I’mfine.”
Now his eyes are on mine. I don’t get him. We can’t keep doing this. Every single time we’re

alonelikethismystomachfluttersandpartsofmetingle.Ihavetobedesperate.That’sallthisis.Irefuse
toacceptthatIcouldbeinterestedinWestonWallace.

“So,”hestartswhilestillstaringintomysoul.“Yougoingtoacceptthatdate?”
Ishrugandaccidentallylickmylips.“Idon’tknow.It’snotlikeI’vebeenseeinganyone.”
West does this thing where he tightens his lips and squints his eyes when he’s frustrated. He’s

doingitnowasIwaitforhisresponse.“Youknow,youprobablyshouldn’tdatesomeonefromyourpast.
Weren’tyoutheonewhosaidyouhungaroundwiththewrongpeople?”

Isnicker.We’reinchesapart,butit’snotinawaywhereitseemslikewe’reintoeachother.It’s

moresowe’reabletohearoverthecrashingwavesinthedistance.Ibitethetipofmyhotdogandchew
as I answer. “I was just messing with you. No one asked me out. Guess you’re stuck with me forever,
loser.”WhenIsayitItakeoff.

Hecomesafterme,sendingmefallingintoapileofsand.Isquirmfromhisholdanddashawayas

fastasIcan,screamingthewholetimebecauseIknowhe’scomingafterme.Imakeitabouttwohundred
yardsbeforehelatchesontothelargesweatshirtandpullsmetothegroundwhereIfallalmosttotallyon
topofhim.We’rebothlaughinguntilwerealizethisisinfactacompromising,verycomfortableposition.
“Whatarewedoing,”heaskswhilebrushingloosehairoutofmyface.

“We’rehavingfun,right?You’remybestfriend.Ilikespendingtimewithyou.”
Hishandcomesupandtakesholdofmyhips,whereheadjuststhewayI’montopofhim.Now

it’s more like a straddle. I sit up so our faces aren’t so close. My hands come down and hold onto his
arms.“Ifeelthesameway.Icouldn’thavestayedifitwasn’tforyou.”

Iplayfullysmackhischeek.“Aww,you’resosweetwhenyou’rehonest.”
Since I’m no longer holding onto him, he takes me by surprise and rolls us over. Now he’s

hoveringoverme,thoselipsIrememberareawfullyclose.“HowbadwoulditbeifIwantedtokissyou
again,Kimber?”

Ishrugandpretendit’snotabigdeal.“Likealittlekiss,orfullblownmakeout?Imeanoneis

prettycasual.It’snormaltokissyourfriends,right?”

He’s already coming in for it before I’m finished. It’s very slow. His lips brush over mine like

he’stestingthewater.Ileancloserandfallintoit.Iknowweshouldn’t.It’sprobablywrongtowantthis.
We’rejustsoclose.Ilovebeingwithhim,evenwhenwe’rehangingout,whichwedoeverysinglenight.
There’sneverbeenanythingmore,notuntilthisverymoment.Histongueteasesmine,soItakecontrol.I
pullawayanddrawhimbackjusttointensifytheneedformore.Hesucksonmylipandletsgo,onlyto
repeattheprocessagain.Ourtongueslightlybrush,enoughtomakeeverysingleinchofmybodytingle.I
dragmyhandthroughhisthickhairandactlikeI’mnotkissingsomeonewhodoesn’tbelongtome.Just
foronceIwanttopretendthiscouldbemylife.

WhenhefinallypullsawayIsaythefirstthingthatpopsinmyheadsoit’snotawkwardlysilent.

“Youmademedropmywiener.”

Helosesit.“Ohyeah,we’llI’vegotoneyoucanhaveinstead.”
Wesitupnexttooneanotherandbrushofthesand.“Ibetyoudo.”
Hestandsandholdsouthishandformetotake.AfterhelpingmeupIrealizeitwasn’ttoleadme

backtothefire.I’mbackinhisarms,hislipscrashingagainstmineagain.Istophalfwaythroughanother
greatmoment.“Ibetyoutakeallthegirlshere.”

Heleansforwardagain.“Pleaseshutup.”
MyarmscomearoundhisneckandbeforeIcanprotesthe’spickingmeupandcarryingmeback

tothefire.

Thisisbad.It’ssobadweshouldbeashamedofourselves.I’llstopwhenhedoes.I’llstopwhen

andifitstartstogoanyfurther.Imeanit.Ihaveto.

Chapter27
Weston

I’vetriedtofightthisfeelinggrowinginsideofme.I’vetoldmyselfit’swrongandthatitcan’tbe

real,buteverysingledayIspendwithhermakesmecertainthisisn’tpity.

We’resitting by thefire, her onmy lap, our kissingbecoming more thanwe both bargained for,

and all I can think about is if she wants to stop. I’d never push her do something that makes her
uncomfortable.Irefusetotakeadvantageofourfriendship,andthat’swhatwehave.EversinceIcame
home she’s been there for me. Kimber has helped me to see I could live again. It’s been slow, and
sometimesIhavemomentswhereIbreakdownfornoreason,butshe’salwaystheretopickmebackup.
ShekeepsmegoingwhenIfeelasifallislost.

I don’t know how this happened. All I wanted to do was offer her a better life. I had plenty of

roomtospare,anditmademehappytodosomethingforBriceevenwhenshe’snotheretoseeit.Ifelt
like she’d be proud of our newfound friendship, but now I’m not so sure. What was once innocent is
clearlymore.RightnowI’mnotthinkingaboutBrice.MyhandsareholdingKimber.Mytongueandlips
arekissingKimber.IwantKimber.It’swrong,butIcan’tstopit.I’mtiredofholdingitinandquestioning
howit’spossible.

Kimberbreaksourkissandbringsherthumbuptotraceovermywetlips.Istareintothoseeyes

andgetlostinanotherwaveofemotionsI’mtryingsodamnhardtocontain.Myhandcupsthesmallof
herassinthosetinybikinibottomsandIimaginehoweasilytheywouldbetotakeoff.Shebringsherlips
closeagainandImeetthem.ThistimeI’mguidinghertogrindoverme.Iwanthertofeeltheeffectshe
hasoverpartsI’mnolongerabletocontrol.Asoftmoanvibratesaswepartagain.Thelidsofhereyes
are heavy as she bites down on her bottom lip and smiles. “We should slow down, West. We wouldn’t
wantthistogotoofar.”

I feel defeated, but refuse to give up. When she tries to stand I keep her still. She gives me an

unsureglance.“WhatifIcan’tstop?”

“Youcan.Webothcan.”Shecupsmyfacewhenshe’ssaysitlikeitwillsinkineasier.
“Fine.WhatifIdon’twantto?”
Kimber attempts to stand a second time, but I keep her on my lap where she belongs. “West,

seriously.Kissingisokay,but…”

“Butwhat?”Iaskwhiletracingthosewetlipswithmineagain.Onehandcomesupandcupsher

rightbreastandasIdoitIhearhersoftlymoanagain.“Iwantyou.”

Andagain,herlipsbrushovermine.“Youcan’t.Wecan’t.”
We’restillkissing,andnowmyhandisunderthesweatshirtandtouchingbareskin.Ipinchather

hardnipple.She’sfightingalosingbattlenow.Herhipsarebeginningtomoveagain,andIdon’tthinkshe

evenrealizesit.Ikeepgoing,venturingaroundwithonehand,lowertoherabdomen,thendownbeneath
herbottoms.Irunthebackofmyhandoverthefabricwhereherpussysits.Herheadfallsbackwitha
gasp.“Havemercy,West.”Ourmouthscrashforanothergo,whileIcontinuetopetherthere,whereshe’s
sowarmandwetalready.

AssoonasIfeelthatassmovingaroundIknowI’vemadeprogress.Shestoppedfightingme.I’m

sorockhardIcanbarelystandit.MyhandscontinueshakingasIexplorepartsofherbodyI’venever
ventured.Hershavedpussymakesmecrazy.IshovethecrotchofherbottomstothesidesoI’mableuse
myhandsfreely.OnelittlestrokeandI’mmoreturnedon.She’ssoakedandIcouldblowwithoutbeing
inside of her. It’s been too long, probably for the both of us. For something that we keep fighting, it’s
impossibletodenynow.Shewantsmetoo.Icouldn’tstopnowifItried.

Ifeelherrippingatthestringtomytrunks.She’stryingtoloosenthembutfailing.Idistractherby

pulling my sweatshirt over her head. The light of the fire will let me see things I’ve never had the
pleasure.Ileanherbackandshovethesidesofhertopoutoftheway.Shetakesmebytheneckandpulls
meagainsther.Ishoveherfurtheruntilshe’slyingonthesandandI’maboveher,finallygivingmytrunks
a good shove, and then her legs are wrapped around my back. Right now we’re not thinking about
anythingelse.It’sselfishandIknowwe’llfightwhenit’sover,butI’mtiredoflyinginbedatnightand
hatingmyselfforwantingher.Likeitornot,somethingishappeningbetweenusthatneitherofuswantto
admit.

We’re slow and gentle. The fire dies down, but we keep going. The moment I’m inside of her

everythingchanges.Ifeelaliveagain,andit’sallbecauseofher.Wecometogether,bothofuscryingout
with our lips pressed together. We’re out of breath, panting and holding each other close, neither of us
knowingwhattosaynow.

ThenIhearhersniffling.
HerheadsitsupfrombeingonmychestandIwipeawaythetears.“Talktome.”
“I’msorry,West.Weshouldn’thavedonethat.”
“Why?”IhugherwhenIask,becauseI’mafraidshemighttrytorun.
“I’llneverknowifyou’rewithme,orifI’mjustreplacingher.”
OhGod.No.“Kimber,doyoureallythinkI’duseyou?”
Sheshakesherhead,refusingtogivemeananswer.
“Whatjusthappenedwasbetweenmeandyou.Ineveroncethoughtaboutyoursister.Iswear.”I

wipemytearsawayandkissheronthenose.“I’vebeenthinkingaboutthisforweeks.”

“WhydoIfeelsoscared?”
Isitupwithherinmyarmsandholdhertightly.Sherestsherheadonmyshoulderandsniffles.

MyhandsrubherbackwhileIthinkofwhatIcansaytocomforther.“I’mscaredtoo.I’mscaredofwhat
peoplewillsaywhentheyrealizewe’remorethanfriends.I’mscaredofwhatyourfatherisgoingtodo
whenhediscoverswhat’shappeningbetweenus,butmostlyI’mscaredbecauseIknowIcouldloveyou.”

Shefinallyliftsherheadandmanagesasmile.“It’sbecauseI’mapartofherright?”
Ishakemyhead.“No.It’sreallynot.IloveBrice.I’llalwaysloveher,butwebothknowshe’s

gone.Shewouldn’twanteitherofustolivetherestofourdaysalone.Ididn’twantthistohappen.We
werejusthavingfun.Wespendsomuchtimetogether.WhenI’mawayImissyou.Whateverthisismight
havestartedbecausewebothlostBrice,butwhatIfeelforyounowhasnothingtodowithyoursister.”

She’squietagain.“Idon’tthinkIcanhandleit,West.I’llalwayswonderifI’mbeingcomparedto

her. It’s silly,” she says as she stands. “I know what I feel when I’m with you, but I’m jealous. I can’t
competewithmysister.Iwon’tbecomparedtoher.”

“Idon’tdothat.”I’mspeechless.Ishouldhaveseenthiscoming.
“That’stheproblem.Itrustyouineveryway,butapartofmewillalwayswonderthat,andnow

we’veslepttogethersothingsaregoingtobehorriblebetweenus.”

Iwalkupandshakehersoshestops.WhenIhaveherattentionIsayonemorething.“Youcan

thinkwhateveryouwant,butwhatwejustexperiencedtogetherwasunique.Itwasus.It’sallwehave.
I’mnotperfect.I’malwaysgoingtomissher,andmaybeit’sfuckedupthatIwanttobeabletomissher
together,butthat’sallIcanofferyou.I’msorryifit’snotenough,Kimber.Ireallyam,becauseIknowwe
couldbegoodforeachother.”

Shenods.“Okay.”
“Okay?”Sheconfusingmenow.

“It’sokayifwemisshertogether.”

“Areyousure?”
She’sbarelynodding,butItakeitasayes.“Whatdowehavetolose?”
Irubthesidesofherarms.“OhIdon’tknow,justeverything.”
Wegatherourthingsandheadbacktothetruck.It’snotexactlyhowIsawthingsgoing,butIget

whyshe’sscared.I’mscared.I’mathirtyyearoldmanwhosuddenlyhasfeelingsforhisdeadfiancée’s
sister.Ineedtobeonatalkshow.Ineedmyheadchecked,oratleastthat’swhatIthinkeveryonewill
saywhentheyfindout.

I’vecontemplatedthebestandworstscenariosandeitherwayitgoesIknowitwon’tchangethe

way I feel about her. If anything, it will make me want to protect her more. Coming home was hard.
Becoming friends with someone I once despised was hard. Wanting to take care of someone else was
hard.DevelopingfeelingsforKimberwaseasy,soeasyIneversawithappeninguntilitwastoolateto
turnthenoff.

Chapter28
Kimber

I’veknownforawhilethatsomethingwashappeningbetweenus.Itstartedwithlittlethings.He’d

ticklemewhenwewerewatchingtelevision,orthrowbeansatmeduringdinner.I’dbeblindifIdidn’t
noticethewayhelooksatme,butIalwaysjustthoughtitmightbebecauseIremindhimofBrice.We’re
notexactlythesame.Myhairislonger,andhasaredtintinthesunlight.I’mshorter,andbuiltmorefor
sports,whereshewasalwaysstudious.Bricelikeddoingthingsoutdoors,butshelikedbooksmore.

Ourridehomefromthebeachisquiet.Ifeellikethefiveminutesdrivetakesanhour.Whenwe

pullupatthehouseWestinsistsonputtingtheboardsaway.Iheadinsideandgostraightupstairstoget
readyforashower.Wesaidweweregoingtotrytobetogether,butnowI’mwonderingifhe’shaving
secondthoughts.

I’msittingontheedgeofthetubtestingthewaterwhenIseehimcomeupthesteps.Hestandson

thelandingandcrosseshisarms.“Whatareyoudoing?”

“Takingashower,why?”
“Ithoughtwe’dgetonetogether.Youknow,conservepreciouswaterandall.”
“Youhaven’tsaidawordtomesinceweleftthebeach.”
“Youhaven’tsaidawordtomeeither.Andthat’swrong.ItoldyouIhadtheboards.”
Irollmyeyes.He’sright.Hedidsaythat.“Soyouthinkthatbecausewescrewedonthebeachwe

shouldjuststartshoweringtogether?What’snext,sleepingtogether?”

Hemotionswithhishandslikeit’snotabigdeal.“Well,yeah.”
Here’sthething.I’dlovetoshowerwithhimeverysingleday.I’dlovetowakeupnexttohim

everysinglemorning,butI’mscared.IfeellikeI’mtramplingonmysister’sgraveanditbreaksmyheart.
“West,Iknowwehadsex,andIdohavefeelingsforyouthatI’mtryingtofigureout,butwehavetogo
slower. There’s still parts of this that are hard for me, and they’ll be that way for you too. We can’t
pretendthisisgoingtowork.”

“Whynot?”
I stand up and wave my hands around as if it will make him understand. “Because I’m not just

goingtoreplacemysister,that’swhy.”

Itakeafewstepsandslamthedoorshut.
He yells from the other side. “This is why there’s no comparison. I want you because you’re

nothinglikeher,youstubbornasshole.Justlikeourfirstkiss.Ineversaiditwasbad.Kissingyouwasan
entiredifferentexperience.Ilikedittoomuch,obviously.WhydoyouthinkIwantedtodoitagain?You
knowwhat,forgetit.You’reright.Thiswon’twork.”

Icovermymouthtokeephimfromhearingmecry.It’sallbeenmadeclear.Crystalfreakingclear.

Suddenly there is no one standing in the way. What happened on the beach was the most intense
experienceI’veeverhad.Ican’tfightthisanymore.

“Westwait!”I’mnotpayingattentionwhenIstarttorundownthestairs.Ilosemyfootinghalfway

andstarttumbling.WestisstandingovermewhenIhitthebottom.He’slaughingandworriedatthesame
time,ifthat’spossible.Hetakesmyhandandhelpsmeup.“Jesus,woman,youokay?”

“Thathurt.”
Hepullsmecloseandkissesthetopofmyhead.“I’msorry.Thetruthis,I’veneverbeeninareal

relationship before, not one like this. It was easy pretending I didn’t want anything more from you, but
nowwecan’ttakeitback.”

“Doyouwanttotakeitback?”
“No. I don’t, but I also didn’t want to fall in love with you, and if that’s what’s happening I’m

screwed.”

Westlaughsatme.“Whyareyouscrewed?”
“BecauseIdon’tdeservethiswithyou.It’snotmylifetohave.”
“Howdoyouknowyou’renotexactlywhereyou’resupposedtobe?”
Ilooktothegroundtoavoideyecontact.“I’mnottryingtosoundlikeajealouscrazyperson,but

ifBricewerestillaliveyou’dbewithher.”

“If Brice were still alive you and I wouldn’t be friends. We wouldn’t have connected from our

sharedloss,andwewouldn’thavebecomethebestoffriendsbecauseofthatconnection.You’reright.
We wouldn’t be together, but we could stand around all day and talk about what ifs. You sent me story
afterstoryofwhatifs.Itchangednothing,exceptformyrespectforyou,Kimber.”

A single tear skids down my cheek. “I’m scared that if I love you I’ll lose you too, and then I

won’thaveanythinglefttolivefor.”

He takes me by the hand and starts pulling along until we’re in the bedroom. Then he kicks the

door shut and leads me into his bathroom. He’s still holding my hand when he turns on the shower and
adjuststhetemperature.It’snotuntilhe’sfinishedthathespeakstome.“Thetruthisweneverknowwhen
we’regoingtoleavethisearth.WehaveonelifeandI’dliketospendmytimewithmybestfriend.I’llgo
slow.I’llstopifthat’swhatyouneed,butdon’tyoueverthinkIdon’twantyouforwhoyouaretome.”

Hecupsmyfaceandkissesmeslowly,histongueteasingminejustenoughtomakemewantmore.

“Youmakemewanttolookforwardtotomorrow.”

“Whenyousaythingslikethatyou’rehardtoresist.”
He’spullingmeundertheshowerheadwithourclothesstillon.“We’llgoslowandIpromiseif

it’stoomuchwe’llgobacktobeingthewaywewere.Wewon’teventellanyoneuntilyousayit’sokay.”

“Stopbeingsonice.”
“I’m not. I’m horny, and that little frolic on the beach wasn’t enough. I hope you’re not tired,

becauseIhavealotofconvincingtodo.”

Westartintheshowerandendupinbed.Beeistheonlyonewhoisn’tthrilledwiththecurrent

situation, especially when we kick her out of the bedroom for staring. She’s allowed back in when we
finallytakeabreather,andsnugglesupatthefootofthebed,whereWesttellsmeshe’llstay.Heholdsme
closeandevenwhenI’mdriftingoffhekissesmeonthehead.Iwanttohatemyselfforwhatwe’redoing,
butIcan’t,notwheneverysecondwe’relikethismakesmewanttobewithhimmore.

When I hear him snoring I lie awake and think of my sister. I wonder if she hates me, or she’s

somehowhelpedusfindoneanother.Imayneverbecertain,butwhatIdoknowisthatmysisterwasn’t
selfish.ShelovedWestwithherwholeentireheart.There’snowayshe’dwanthimtoliveouttherestof
hislifealone,andIhavetobelieveshe’dfeelthesamewayaboutme.CaringaboutWestdoesn’tmean

wedon’tloveBrice.I’mnottakingwhatishers.She’sgoneandwecan’tchangeit.I’msimplyfallingin
lovewithwhatcouldbemine.

Chapter29
Weston


It’s been three months and we’ve kept our relationship a secret. It’s been tough in the house,

especiallywithmybrothers.Notmuchhaschangedtowarranttheircuriosity.Wealwayssatnexttoeach
otheronthecouchandwrestledaroundattimes.Exceptnowwhenwe’reonthecouchwiththecovers
pulledhigh,we’reholdinghandsordoingmorewithoutthemevennoticing.We’vesatwithbothofthe
twinsforanentiremovieandtheyneverevenlookedinourdirection.Atnightshewaitsforthemtogoto
sleepbeforecomingdownstairs,orsometimesIgouptoher,grantedBeecomestooandit’salittletight
withthethreeofus.

Tobehonestit’slikeI’mateenageragain,hidingarelationshipfrommyparents.It’ssortoffun

andalsorisky.ForthemostpartKimberandIdon’tactmuchdifferentaroundeachother.We’realways
friendly.Noonehassaidanything,atleastuntilwegotcareless.

Kimberworksatthefamilyrestaurant.Shelikesitmuchbetterthanbartending,andIdon’thaveto

worryaboutdrunkpricksgivingherahardtime.There’salwaysoneWallaceinthebuildingtokeepher
safe.

It’s peak season, and the crowds have been record breaking. She’s been working extra shifts to

helpDadout,andI’vebeenoutonthewaterwiththeguysfromsunuptosundowntomeetnewlarger
quotas.Sneakingahugorkissisgettingdamnnearimpossible,butIstillmaketheeffort.

DeliveringfreshcatchtotherestaurantisusuallyBrant’sjob.Hestopsby,hasadrinkupstairsat

thetavernandthenheadshometomakedinnerforJamie,orhelpoutatthevetclinic.I’veofferedtodo
thedropofftoday,andafterafewsuspiciousquestionsIthinkI’mintheclear.It’snotlikeBrantknows
something. The twins like to give me a hard time because they know I’ve kissed Kimber before. Now
Brantthinkshe’sontosomebigdiscovery,andevenifheis,hehasnosolidproof.SowhatifKimberand
Iaretogetheralot?WhenI’mgoingsomewherewithBrantandJamieitmakesmelessofathirdwheel.
Theydon’tneedtoknowwe’reacouple.

NowDadontheotherhand,wellhe’smorethansuspicious.Hepulledmeasideacoupleweeks

agoatfamilybreakfastandaskediftherewassomethinggoingon.Hesaidhecouldseeabigdifference
andwantedtoknowifshewasthereason.NowI’llgivehimcreditforpayingattention.WhenIfirstgot
totownIcouldn’tbearthethoughtofgoingtomyownhouse.Iwouldn’thavebeenabletoconquerthat
hurdlewithoutthehelpofKimber.Herstrengthgotusboththroughit.SheheldmyhandwhileIcried.She
shared her own pain with me to help me understand I wasn’t alone. She gave me beautiful stories and
filledmylifewithhopeagain.

I never gave Dad a straight answer that day or otherwise. I’m a grown man. If I want to see a

womanIcandoitwithoutpermission.

OnthisparticulardayI’mcareless.Ileftforworkbeforeshewokeup,andwillbeasleepwhen

shegetshome.We’relikepassingshipsinthenightandIdon’twanthertofeellikeI’mdistancingmyself.
It’snothinglikethat.

Danehelpsmeunloadthefreshfishandoystersintothekitchen.ThenonceI’mdoneIheadtothe

frontandlookarounduntilIseeher.She’sstandingatthelittlebuffetcleaningthespills.Insteadofreally
scoping out the surroundings, I make one quick check that we’re alone and wrap my arms around her.
Now this is where it’s more her fault. Instead of pushing me away because she knew my sister was
standingbehindme,shetakesmeinherarmsandgreedilykissesme.Weshareamoment.“Imissedyou.
JustthoughtI’dsayhi.”

“Imightnothavetoworklate.Icouldbringsomethinghometoeat.”
Wekissagain.“Ifyoucan’tjustletmeknow.MaybeI’llcomebackandhangaround.”
Shegiggles.“Likeastalker?Idon’tknowwhy,butwhenit’syou,it’skindofsexy.”
Islapherass.“You’retheonewho’ssexy.GetthatfineassbacktoworkbeforeItakeyouinthe

closetandmessupthatprettyhair.”

She laughs as she turns to get back to work, only to stop in her tracks when my brother’s voice

fillstheroom.It’sBrant,andnowheknowswithoutadoubtthatwe’vebeenkeepingabigsecret.

“Icaughtyouredhanded.”WebothturnandseeBristolandBrantstandingtogether.
Bristolislaughing,whileBrantdoesallthetalking.“Iknewit.Iknewitandyoutriedtoplayit

off.”

Ifthisisn’tenough,Dadwalksin.BythistimeI’vetakenKimber’shandandholdittightsoshe

doesn’tfreakoutandrunforthehills.Yes,I’mprettyworried.“Wewerejustmessingaround,”Idon’t
knowwhyIthinkIcanfoolthem.

“It’s about time the two of you got caught,” Dad says. “Alice and I were tired of keeping it a

secret.”

IgiveDadadirtylook,whileKimbersighsbesideme.Shehasallofmyattention.“Iguessthecat

isoutofthebag.”

“Yeah.Aretheystillstaring?”Ichecktomakesureandnod.“Shouldwesaysomething?”
Ishrug.“Maybeweshouldmakeout.”
Kimber giggles and shoves me. She looks in the direction of my awaiting family. “Fine. You

caughtus.”

Igiveheralittlesqueeze.“Wejustdidn’twantanyonebeingnegativeaboutit.”
Brant clears his throat. “You spend all your time together. It would be hard not to develop

feelings,West.Noonethinksanylessofyou.We’regladyou’rebothhappy.”

“Soyou’renotmadatme?”Kimberasks,andI’mprettysureherquestionisforeveryoneinthe

room.

Dadanswers.“Noway.We’regladyou’vebeenthereforWest.Ifitweren’tforyouhe’dbeback

inAlaska.”

It’samatterofminutesbeforemyphonestartsblowingupwithtextsfromtherestofthefamily.

We’re going on three months together and they’re acting like it’s new and we need to be careful.
Thankfully,KimberandItookitslowfromthebeginning.Wewerefriendsfirstandthenslowlybecame
something more. Now I don’t think I could get by without her. I swore I’d never love another woman
asidefromBrice,butdamnifIdon’tfeelthatwayaboutKimber,exceptit’sdifferent.Theybothhavea
holdofmyheart,oneinmypastandtheothermypresent.KimberiseverythingBriceneverwasandI
adoreherforthat.Whatbroughtustogethermayhavebeenatragedy,butwhatmademefallinlovewith
herwasnothingbutthemostsincerefriendshipIthinkI’veeverhad.

Epilogue
SixMonthsLater
Weston

Kimberisnotmakingthisanyeasieronme.I’vedreadedthisdamnday.IhateChristmasather

parents.IalwayshaveandIalwayswill.Assumingtherewouldn’tbefestivitiesthisyearsincetherewas
abigdivorce,Iletmyguarddown,onlytobetoldweweremeetingbothofthemforaChristmasEve
dinner.

Sufficetosay,theyhavenoideaI’mKimber’splusone.We’venowbeenanofficialcouplefor

ninemonths.We’vehadmomentswherewequestionedifbeingtogetherwastherightmove.Peoplefrom
thecommunityarequicktovoicetheiropinionsandwordgetsaroundquick.It’sunfortunate,becausemy
businessisnoneofthere,butithappens.Throughitallourrelationshiphasonlygottenstronger.Infact,
Kimber has a lot more than our relationship to be thankful for this year. Aside from working her little
fannyoffattherestaurant,she’sbeendoingsomethingsheloves.InsteadofconvertingBrice’soldoffice
intoaguestsuite,Ikeptitthewayitwasandprovidedmybeautifulgirlfriendwithabrandnewlaptop.
FromthatmomentonIknewwhereIcouldfindherwhenthehousewastooquiet.She’sbeenwritingher
littleheartout,dayafterday.Thebookisatruestory.It’saboutBriceandherlifewithme,butinsteadof
herdeathbeingend,itturnedintoanewlifeforhertostartoverandliveagain.I’veneverbeenanavid
reader,butthebookisdamngood,andI’mnotjustsayingthatbecausemygirlfriendwroteit.It’sreally
everything.Iguessthat’swhyit’sbeingpublishedbyoneofthebiggestpublishersinthebookindustry.

I’mhopingthisnewswillmakeourrelationshipseemlikeit’snothingtogetshotover,butI’mnot

going to hold my breath. Kimber and I may have butted heads in the past, but when her Dad hates
someone,it’sforever.

She’sfidgetingwiththedresssheinsistedonwearing.AsmuchasIlikethewayitclingstoevery

curve,Icantellshe’suncomfortable.“IfIwereyou,Iwouldhavegonewiththeyogapants.”

“Stop.That’snotevenfunny.It’sonlyacouplehours.Idon’tknowwhat’sworse.Thedressorthe

shoes.Howdopeoplewalkinthesethings?”

“I’llrubyourfeetwhenwegethome.Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
She stops before we walk into the fancy place they picked out. “I can’t believe they’re on

speakingtermsagain.Nowthey’llbeincahoots.”

“Hopefullyyourmomtoldhimthegoodnewssowecanleavesooner.”
She cups my face to keep me from talking. “I love you to death, but if you don’t behave you’re

goingtoberunningfromme,notmydad.”

“Okay,okay.I’llbegood,butyouhavetoadmit,thisisgoingmakehisbuttholepucker.”

Sheslapsmelightlybutkeepshercommentstoherself,becausesheknowsI’mright.
I put on a straight face as we walk around and locate where they’re both already sitting. The

momentPhillipCarpenterseesmehestandsatattention,asiftomakehimlookmoresuperior.Iholdout
myhandlikeit’snobigdealI’mwithKimber.ForChristsakeswe’vebeenlivingtogetherfornearlya
year.It’stimetofigureitoutandgetoverit.

“It’sgoodtoseeyou,sir.”It’salie.It’snevergoodtoseehim.Iftherewaseverasinkholeinthe

area,I’dwishhewastheoneatthebottomofit.

“Pleasetellmethisisajoke,Kimber.”Hewon’tevenaskme.Herefusestolookatmeanymore.

It’salmostfunny.

“Dad,pleasesitdown.WestismyguestandI’dappreciateitifyougavehimalittlerespect.”
He remains standing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How did you do it?” Now the question is

directedatme.“Howdidyouconvincemyonlyotherdaughtertojumpintobedwithyou?”

Before I can open my mouth and give him hell, Kimber loses her shit. This is the difference

betweenthetwosisters.I’mnolongergoingtobethatguythat’streatedlikeshitduringChristmasdinner.
I’mnotgoingtobetheworthlesspieceofshitthat’sruininghisdaughter’slife.

“I’mgoingtosaythisonetime,andifyoudon’tlikeitwe’llturnaroundandnevershareanother

mealwithyouagain.WestonWallaceisthebestmanI’veevermet.ThedevotionheshowedforBrice
wasadmirable,butmostimportantlyunconditional.Weweren’ttheonlyonestolostBrice.Helosthis
futurewifeandtheirbaby.”

IknowKimbermeansbusiness,becauseweneverdiscussthebaby.It’sstillhardformetothinkI

couldhavebeenafather,butIknowthatbabyissomewherewithhermothernowandthey’llalwaysbe
together.

Kimber keeps at him. “This man went to Alaska to live because he couldn’t bear the thought of

livinghislifewithouther.MeanwhileIsufferedfromthesameunendingemptiness.Iwantedtoendtomy
life,becauseIfeltlikeIhadnothingtolivefor.WestandIweren’tfriendswhenwelostBrice,butitwas
ourloveforherthathelpedusfindeachother.HewasthereformewhenIfeltlikeIhadnothingleftto
livefor.”

Ifinishthesentence.“Andshegavemeareasontowanttocomehometotheisland.Ifitweren’t

foryourdaughterI’dstillbeinAlaska.”

“Iwishyouwere,”Phillipschimesin.
“Dad, I love him. I don’t care what you think or how this seems. We’re together. We’ve been

togetherforawhilenowandI’veneverbeenhappier.”

“Thisisbullshit!”Hesaysitloudenoughotherpeoplestartlookinginourdirection.“Howdare

youdisgracethisfamily.”

Kimber argues right back. “Family? You call this a family? The day Brice died you gave up on

yourfamily.Youandmombothpushedmeaway.DidyouevenknowIwaslivinginmycar?Thenafter
thatIstayedinacrappymotelroombecauseit’sallIcouldafford?Dideitherofyouevencarethatyou
stillhadachildthatwasalivewhomightneedyouloveandsupport?Ilosteverything,includingtheboth
of you. This man you refuse to see, he’s given me back my life. He saved me when you couldn’t be
bothered.Heopenedhishometome,andgotmeabetterjob.HeheldmewhenIcriedandpromisedthat
he’dalwaysbearound.Neitheroneofyougavemethat.Insteadyoublamedme.Ididn’tkillmysister.
ForthelongesttimeIthoughtitwasmyfault.Adrunkdriverhitusthatnight.Hetookherlife.Iregretthat
Iaskedhertocomegetme,butshedidn’tdiebymyhands.Itwasahorribleaccident,anddoyouwantto
knowtheworstpart?”

ThisiswhereIhavenoideawhatshe’sabouttosayandit’sscaringme.
“I was the last person to hear her speak. Brice didn’t come to get me that night because I was

drunk.ShecametogetmebecausemyfriendsditchedmeatapartywithdrugsandweaponsandIwas

afraidtobetherealone.Iknewmysisterwouldsaveme,becauseshewasalwaysthereforme.Icould
countonhernomatterwhat.”Kimberiscryingnowasshecontinues.“Shetoldmenottobeafraid.She
saideverythingwasgoingtobeokay,eventhoughIknewitwasn’t.Briceknewherinjuriesweresevere,
butitdidn’tstopherfromprotectingme.Shediedpromisingmethatthingswouldbeokay,andforthe
longesttimeIhatedmyselfforit.ButnowIknowshewasn’ttalkingabouttheninthatcar.Shewasn’t
talkingaboutthemonthsofpainandstruggleI’dendureafterIlosther.Shewastalkingaboutrightnow.
ShewastellingmethatIwouldbeokay.Thatwewould.”

I can barely hear through my tears. Kimber talks about a lot of memories, but never this. I can

hardlykeepittogether.

“IloveWest.Icouldgiveyouamillionreasonswhyandyouwouldn’thavetoagree,becauseit’s

mylife.YouspentsomuchtimecomparingmetoBrice.YouaskedwhyIcouldn’tbelikeher.Whydidn’t
I want to go to medical school? Well guess what? I am successful. I just got published. That’s right. I
wroteanovelandthesecondcompanyIsubmittedthemanuscripttoofferedmeasixfiguredealwiththe
optionforaparttwo.”

Herparentsbothremaininthesameflabbergastedforwhatfeelslikeawholeminute.Iclearmy

voiceandwipethetearsoutofmyeyes.“Youreadytogo,babe?”

Kimbersmirksandtakesmyhand.“Yeah,IthinkI’vemademypoint.”Shetakesanoliveoutof

her mother’s martini glass and pops it in between her teeth. “Merry Christmas Mom and Dad. Maybe
we’lltrythisagainnextyear.”

By the time we step outside of the restaurant she’s already in my arms. I’m ecstatic. “I can’t

believeyoudidthat.”

“IspentenoughChristmasdinnerhearinghimbitchaboutyou.Hewasn’tdoingitonmywatch.”
I cup her face and stare into her beautiful cobalt eyes, almost the same ones as her sister. “You

knowIloveyou,right?”

“Youbetter.Thatwasonehellofashow.Iprobablywon’tgetgiftsforthenexttwentyyears.”
“Wecansendthemoneofthosefruitcakes.Youthinkthey’dlikethat?”

Shelaughsaswestarttowalk,onlystoppingtokickofftheheelsthatareobviouslykillingherfeet.“I
think that would be the highlight of the holiday. Maybe we should get them a monthly subscription for
them.Fruitcakeofthemonthclub.”

Ikissheronthecheekwhiletakingtheshoesfromhersoshehaslesstocarry.“Youhungry?”I

ask.

“Starved.”
“GoodIknowagreatplace,withbetterpie.”

ThenextmorningisChristmas.OurveryfirstChristmasasacouple.Thehouseisquietbecause

thetwinsstayedatOysterCovetogiveussomeprivacy.Kimbersitsinfrontofthetreewithaboxonher
lap.Shehandsmethesamesizeboxandwebothlaugh.I’vegottenhersomethingthat’soneofakindand
Iknowshe’llloveit.

Sheopenshersfirst.Whentheboxispriedandshe’sholdingupthefabricmystomachknots.It’s

hardtolookatthepicturesenlargedandnotfeelalittlesad.IknowthismeansalottoKimberandsoit’s
important to me too. It’s an embroidered throw with a collage of pictures of Brice and Kimber. She’s
cryingasshelooksateachofthemandtracesherfingersoverthestitching.“Iloveit.It’sbeautiful.”She
reaches over and gives me the most sincere, meaningful hug I think I’ve ever received. “I love you so
much,West.Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou.”

“Burnthehousedown,”Itease.Shesitsbackandwaitsformetoopenmygift.Ishakethebox

like her sister used to do. We both laugh, because I’d be terrible at guessing if I tried. My box opens
easily.Firstit’sasoftblueminiaturefabric.Ipullitandit’snothing.It’sjustfabric.ThenIdigbackinthe
box. It’s another piece of fabric. This one is yellow. Beneath that is a green one and then a pink. Then
there’sanotherboxandmystomachknotsupwhenIhaveitinmyhandandknowexactlywhatitis,but
that’s not what’s making me feel like my head is spinning. Kimber must not have known how her sister
toldmeshewaspregnant.I’mtryingtokeepastraightfaceasIopenthebox,becausewhat’sinsideis
goingtomakemethehappiestmanintheworld,butit’sthememoriesthatmakeithard.“What’swrong?”
SheaskswhenIhavetopause.

“Twoyearsagoyoursistergavemethegiftofapregnancyannouncement.”
“Goodthingmine’sawatch,”shequicklyreplies.
Iopentheboxandfindthatshe’stellingmethetruth.It’snotjustawatcheither.It’soneofthose

oldwatcheswiththegiantcalculatoronit.Igiveherapuzzledlook.“Whatintheworld?”

“Putiton.Iwanttoseehowitlooks.”
Ihavenoideaifshe’slosthermindornot.There’snothingsexyaboutthisoldhunkofjunk,butI

doasshesaysbecauseit’sChristmasandIloveher.IevenlookoveratBeewhoisrelentlesslytryingto
eatabonethat’sbiggerthanherheadandrealizeshecouldn’tcarelesswhatIgotfromSanta.

Whenit’sonshesnickersandstartstalkingtome.“Okayturnitonandaddthisstufftogether.Ten

pluseight,minusseventeen,pluseight,minusfour,minusthreemore.Okaywhat’sthetotal?”

Thisisreallymindboggling.“Two.”
Shehandsmetwomorepackages.They’reprettysmall.Iopenthefirstoneandit’sabaseball.I

openthesecondoneandit’sabunny.ThenIlookoveratBee.“Aretheseforher?”

“Nope.”
“Huh?Areyoufuckingwithme?”
“Notatall.”
“Soyouboughtmeabunny,awatchandabaseballforChristmas?”
She’snoddingandlaughingatthesametime.“You’regoingtoneedtothatwatchoneday.”
“Forwhat?”
“Forcalculatingofcourse.”
Idon’twanttooffendher,butI’mgettingfrustrated.“Kimber,you’rescrewingwithme.Iknow

it.”

“Fine,”shesayswithahuff.“Youruinallthefun.”
Behind her back she pulls another small box. This one looks like it’s a ring, but I don’t wear

jewelry. When I open the box my mouth drops. The words on the key ring give it away. “No freaking
way.”

Shelaughsandsqueals.“Way.ItotallyboughtyouaHarley.”
Igetupandliftherintomyarms,spinningheraroundwhiletryingtosimultaneouslymakeittothe

frontdoor.Sureenough,parkedontheothersideofmypickupsitsashiningbrandnewmotorcycle.

Ispendthenexthourcheckingitout.WetakeitforaquickspinandIcheckitoutsomemore.It’s

awesome.Iwouldn’thavepickedabetterstyle.“Iaminlove.”

“Withmeorthebike?”Sheasks.
Itakeherbackintomyarms.“Pleasedon’tmakemechooserightnow.”
Shetapsmeontheback.“Fine.I’llletthebikehaveyoufortheday.”
She’shalfwayuptheporchstepsbeforeIstopher.“Hey,wait.Whattheheckwasthebunnyand

ballfor?”

“Ohyeah,that’sforthetwinswe’llhaveoneday,wellmaybehopefullyifthat’swhatyouwant.I

meanitmightnotbetwins.”

Ichaseherinthehouseandcatchherbeforeshecangetaway.I’moutofbreathandIknowit’s

notfromrunning.“Youwanttohavemybabies?Didyousaytwins?”

Shenodslikeit’snobigdeal.“Uhhuh.”
“Two?”
“Yep.”
“Shit.Imean,yay,ohshit!DoIhavetogetridoftheHarley?”
Kimberlaughs.“No.Yougettohaveitall.”
I’mholdingher,kissingher,andthenithitsme.“Weshouldprobablygethitched.”
“Wedon’thaveto.”
“Ikindawantto.”
“Okay.Norush.Idon’tneedaringtoknowyou’remine.”
“Whythewatch?”
“Itwasn’tfromme,West.IfounditinBrice’sdeskdrawer.Shehaditinscribedontheback.”
Itakeoffthewatchandlookattheinscription.Aquirkygiftforquirkyguy–LoveB
Iburstintolaughter.It’sthefunniestthing,especiallycomingfromBrice.Mybrotherswilllaugh

theirassesoff.“Thisisawesome.”

“I know. I couldn’t resist.” She leads me into the bedroom and has something behind her back.

“There’sonemorethingIwantyoutohave.”

“Okay.”
Kimberhandsmealeatherboundbook.AtfirstIdon’tgetituntilIopenthefirstpage.“Isthis

yourjournal?”
“It also contains every single story I ever wrote about you and Brice. I want you to have it, since you
burnedtheletters.Ithoughtmaybeyou’dwanttoreadthem.”

“Areyousure?I’mhappywiththislife,Kimber.Idon’tneedtogobackwardsanymore.”
“Iloveyou,West.Ialsolovemysister.Youkeepthem.”

I can’t stop smiling as I look at everything I have now. Two years I was ready to give up. I

couldn’tstandthethoughtofcomingbacktotheisland.NowI’minlove.I’mgoingtohaveafamily,andI
gettobewithsomeonewhoreallyunderstandsme.

“AmIdreaming?”Iquestion.
“AmI?”Shecounters.
“IfIam,don’twakemeup.”
“Okay,babe.Iwon’t.”



TheEnd

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