“You know I’m not a horse, right?” I asked her, the laughter still in my voice.
She blew out a deep breath and peeled her arms off my neck. In the next breath, she slid down my back and nearly fell over the minute her feet hit the ground. I spun around and caught her to me.
“Sit down before you kill yourself.” I helped her down to the sand, figuring her dress was already ruined when she straddled me and ripped the hem up the side. I sat next to her, not giving a shit if I ruined my dress pants. I hated them anyway.
“Did that just fucking happen?” she said out loud.
I snorted and she let out a gasping wheeze. She bent at the waist and nearly had her forehead touching her legs. For a second I thought she might be throwing up, what with the amount of alcohol she had to have in her system right about then. I put a hand on her back and then heard the first sounds of hysterical laughter hit my ears.
Not puking. Laughing.
She straightened quickly and tossed her head back, cackling loudly in between wheezy inhales. Tears of laughter were rolling down her cheeks and she’d never looked more beautiful to me. I watched her, a small smile on my face as I took her in and absorbed this moment with her. After all, if perfect moments stretched between bland existence would be all I got with Amelia, I’d take them and savor them like the treasures they were.
The waves rolled in and crashed on the shore, a background to Amelia’s drunken mirth. Eventually she quieted, her gaze trained on the white foam trailing higher on the sand but still far enough away we were in no danger of getting wet. The bubble of anger that seemed to cling to her like perfume drifted away in the breeze.
While she attempted to sober up, I sat with my thoughts. I didn’t try to avoid them like usual. I didn’t shut them down or let them fester, making me bitter and resentful. The thing was, Amelia owed me nothing. I could love her beyond all reason and she didn’t owe me a damn thing in return. My love didn’t come with shackles. She wasn’t responsible for my feelings; I was. And so I’d choose to love her freely and unconditionally. I’d quit being mad at her for not loving me back, for not seeing how much better I’d treat her than any other man she settled for. No matter how she responded or didn’t, I’d simply love her.
A huge weight came off my chest, leaving me feeling peaceful for the first time in years.
“My life is shit, T.” Amelia’s voice was so soft I barely heard her above the crash of waves.
I startled, forgetting we sat so close while I came to my epiphany. Amelia rarely talked softly. Hell, she rarely sat silently either. Maybe the ocean was magical tonight, leading us both to new ideas and resolutions. Maybe Charlie was right and the moonlight held some sort of power that transcended logic.
“Is it so bad?” I asked. My chest ached for her.
“Yeah. It really is. I just wanted to be a badass boss bitch and somehow I’ve let my life flush down the toilet.” She sounded lost. Beaten down.
I chanced a glance at her, not wanting to break the spell that kept her sharing openly with me. A tear slid down her cheek and I had a suspicion it wasn’t from laughter this time.
Lead with love.
I scooted closer and slid my arm around her shoulders, pulling her face into my chest. I couldn’t fix things for her, no matter how badly I wanted to, but I could show her I cared. She came willingly, accepting the comfort and putting her hand on my chest. We stayed that way until my legs went numb and her breathing evened out. Trying not to jostle her, I picked her up and stood, heading back up the trail and to my truck.
She stirred when I put her in the truck, her eyelids fluttering open. As soon as she focused on my face, she smiled and went back to sleep. My heart squeezed in my chest at her trust. On the drive to the hotel, I doubled down on my vow. I’d love her unconditionally. I’d get her to her room and in bed and then I’d leave her. No matter how much it hurt to walk away.
I’d never have her in the ways I wanted, but I loved her enough to want to see her happy.
4
Amelia
It was amazing what a week could do to a person. And regularly washing my hair. Something about clean roots and a face full of makeup made me feel like I could conquer the world. All that and sobering up for a full seven days. My poor liver had been working double time the last year while dating Douchebag. Oh yeah, I’d quit using the name Daire and inserted Douchebag. Seemed appropriate.
When I truly had my life together, I was considering writing a book. All the teeny tiny warning signs us girls ignore when a hot guy pays us any attention. It would be a bestseller and there’d be a ton of guys with breakup texts for being douchebags. I could see it now.
I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, breezing through the lobby and saying good morning to my staff. Today was my only true day off and I had plans. Mama was getting a new tattoo. Not my actual mother. Me. I’d done some heavy thinking the last week and I’d come to a conclusion about my life. The breakup with Douchebag brought me to a fork in the road of my life. I made the hard decision to take the high road and get my life back on track. While a fork could have been my symbolic tattoo, I thought it might imply I was a foodie, which I totally wasn’t. I was a drinkie. My liver could attest. So, I decided to get a tattoo of a phoenix. Rebirth, baby. Watch this motherfucker rise from the ashes.
“Lia,” a voice called out the second I stepped out the front door of the hotel.
My head popped up and I spotted Titus climbing out of his truck in the parking lot. Titus. While I was busy rebirthing, which was a lot more messy psychologically than actual birth I’ll have you know, I’d spared quite a few thoughts about Titus. That fork in the road I talked about? Titus was standing on that high road, one of the major reasons I’d chosen that road. I missed him.
I rushed over, barreling into him for a hug, surprising him based on the “oof” that escaped on impact. “T! I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Uh…thanks. Me too.” Pulling back, I could see him scratching the side of his head, like he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Whatcha doin’ here?” He looked like he was ready to go to work, the branded T-shirt that made his biceps pop, the jeans and work boots said he knew what to do with his hands. I’d seen him in this outfit a thousand times over the years, but I saw him with new eyes today. He’d built a solid business without a degree, just hard work and dedication to his craft. I was proud of him and I didn’t think I’d ever told him that.
“Oh.” He reached back into the cab of the truck and came out with a coffee in his hand. “I don’t have a job until later today, so I thought I’d bring you coffee and see how you’re doing.”
I looked at the coffee cup he extended to me, slightly breathless. “You brought me coffee?”
Titus looked away before making eye contact again. “Yeah. Mocha with no whip but extra drizzle, right? Or did that change?”
He remembered. I hadn’t ordered a coffee in front of him for over a year and he remembered my drink?
I took the cup with a quick nod and also gave him another hug. In thanks, sure, but also to hide the fact my eyes were burning again. What the hell was going on with my eyes recently? Allergies? Rare ocular cancer? I’d have to get them checked soon. This burning sensation was a pain in the ass. Or pain in the eyeball, I guess you could say.