“Yes, are you?” I jest, and he throws me a wink that makes me laugh. “Eagles, huh?” I mutter, eyeing his shirt, making him chuckle lightly. He knows I’m a huge Patriots fan. We talked sports yesterday during our drive.
As we find our way outside, the morning is cool, but not cold, and the sun is just starting to make itself known on the horizon. It’s glorious.
“Do you always run this early?”
“Usually, if I can,” I tell him as we start down the beach and set off at a decent pace. Running on the beach is super freaking hard if you’re not used to it, so after a minute or two, I can really feel my heart going and the familiar trickle of sweat on the back of my neck and in my cleavage. “I didn’t know you ran.”
“When I can, I try to,” he looks down at me with a smirk. “The hotel has laundry service, so I was thinking of sending some out today if you need anything done,” he pants out, but doesn’t sound overly winded, and from what I saw briefly this morning, Ryan is in good shape.
“Yes. I could use some clean stuff.”
We run in silence, enjoying the sunrise over the ocean, and I swear there are few things more beautiful than this. Pinks and purples and yellows fill the sky, bathing us in light. The salty breeze brushes my skin, sticking to my moistened flesh.
I think that wherever I end up deciding to move, the ocean has to be a part of it. The south, not so much because as the sun rises, so does the muggy humidity. Yuck. Not my thing. I prefer cooler weather.
We finish our run, and after walking another hundred or so yards, we both sink into the cool sand, watching the waves crash onto the shore as we catch our breath.
“I’m not going to kill myself today,” I whisper, grasping my pendant.
“What?” Ryan snaps, his head whipping toward me and I realize I just said that out loud. I blanch, biting my lip because I don’t know what to say. I’m mortified. “Did you just say that you weren’t going to kill yourself today?” He’s angry. No wait, he’s furious. His face is getting redder by the moment, his eyes blazing. “Was that a fucking possibility?”
“N-No,” I stutter. “Not really.”
“What the hell does that mean, Katie?” I don’t know what to say. “Answer me,” he bites out, and I stand up, because I suddenly can’t sit anymore.
I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, and right now, I just want to run away from the glare he’s giving me.
“It’s not really. Not anymore,” I answer, my voice shaking. “It’s just something I say now. Sort of like a daily affirmation or something.”
He stands now too, walking in the direction of the water with his back to me, his hands on his hips and his chin to his chest.
“But it was, right? Did you ever try to hurt yourself?” He’s maybe a little less angry, maybe.
“I didn’t because I made myself promise not to every morning, and occasionally at other times during the day. But lately, it’s only been in the morning.” I’m being honest with him on this, for the most part. The week before I moved was tough, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Fuck,” he barks out, running his hands through his sweat-dampened hair. “That’s bullshit, Katie.”
And now it’s my turn to get angry.
“Don’t you dare judge me, Ryan,” I snap, putting my hands on my hips and glowering into his back. “Don’t you dare. You have no idea what I went through. What I’ve gone through over the last two years. No. Fucking. Idea.”
His back is rising and falling, heavy with his breaths. He looks like he’s trying to calm himself down and is failing miserably at it.
“I not only lost my husband—the love of my entire life—but I had to watch my baby girl die in front of me knowing I could not save her.” His head snaps up, looking out toward the water, his shoulders tense. “She was brought to my hospital, and I was down in the room while they worked on her. While they pushed on her chest and defibrillated and stuck her full of medicines and tubes. I was there!” I yell, and it feels so fucking good to do that, rage and adrenaline coursing through me. “I watched as the monitor flatlined and her life slipped away. Then I held her small, lifeless body, knowing it was going to be for the last time.” Now the tears are coming in full force like I just opened the dam. “That it was going to be the last time I smelled her hair or kissed her soft skin or whispered that I loved her in her ear. That the second I left her body, I’d never see her again,” I sob out. “You have no idea what that kind of pain is like. You can get over losing your spouse. It’s agony and impossible, but that sort of loss happens and people move on.” He turns to look at me now with an unreadable expression, the sun surrounding his body making him glow and leaving his face cast in a shadow. “But losing your child like that?” I shake my head. “There are no words to describe the utter devastation.” I drop my face into my hands. “You’re not supposed to bury your child,” I cry out, feeling the grief sweep over me like a suffocating wave, taking away my ability to move or breathe.
His arms are around me now, pulling me into his sweat-soaked shirt.
“I’m sorry, Katie. I’m so sorry,” he says into the top of my hair as he holds me tighter and tighter. “I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me, Katie. Please,” he begs, and I can hear the anguish in his voice. “I didn’t mean to judge you. I just…,” he pauses, pulling me back so I have to look up at him. “I care about you, okay?” His thumbs wipe away the tears that have started to slow. “I get that we’ve only known each other less than a week, but when you spend this kind of time with someone, it becomes inevitable.”
I nod my head, understanding what he means.
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out by saying that. It’s just something I say now, I swear.” A shudder wracks my body, and he pulls me in closer to his warm chest. “I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”
“Don’t apologize to me about that, ever. I’m glad you shared it with me. I like knowing about you, Katie. The good and the bad, and losing your family like that is a large part of who you are.” I nod, not able to say anything because I’m suddenly so overwhelmed by this new friendship. “Just promise me that you’ll never hurt yourself.”
I look directly into his eyes. “I promise.”
And I mean it. I won’t.
If I were going to, I would have done it twenty-six months ago when I lost them. He stares into my eyes for another moment, maybe searching for evidence of a lie, and when he finds none, he steps back, releasing me from his embrace.
Ryan lets out a slow, heavy breath.
“I was thinking of spending another night here in Charleston. Is that all right with you?”
I almost want to laugh at the subject change, because it’s just so perfect. “I’m one hundred percent good with that.”
“Awesome. Then let’s go get some breakfast and play on the beach while the hotel does our laundry. If we’re going to be spoiled, might as well do it up right.”
Now I do laugh. “I’m all for being spoiled and playing on the beach and eating breakfast.”