Easton gives me a side smile. His shoulders relax, and we continue walking. Our arms brush together, and I like being this close.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” I admit. “You asked me recently why I stayed with my ex for so long.”
“Yeah,” he says with a soft tone. This time I stop and turn to him.
“It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a while, and yesterday, when I was meditating, I realized the answer.”
He waits for me to continue.
I swallow hard, feeling the knot form in my throat. “I couldn’t give him a family, and I felt broken. In a way, I believe that if I gave him the babies we dreamed of having, it would fix our problems. That I owed it to him to keep trying, to stay with him, to fit the mold of the doting wife regardless if I was nearly swallowed whole by my depression. I knew there were deeper problems, but I ignored them and blamed myself. It was easier.” A few tears spill down my cheek, and Easton sets down his bucket and wraps his arms around me. As he holds me tight, I give myself permission to let it out because I kept it inside for so long.
With him holding me like I’ll slip through his fingers if he lets go, I feel safe.
“You don’t owe anyone anything, Tatum,” Easton whispers. “You’re enough just as you are.”
Sobs escape me because no one has ever said anything to me like that and meant it. “I’m a failure.”
He pulls away and wipes away my tears. “You’re not. You’re strong. Beautiful. Caring. And it destroys me that you can’t see that. Your ex was lucky to have someone like you, who stayed and was willing to sacrifice their own happiness. But that’s not how it’s supposed to work, sweetheart.”
“I was brainwashed into believing everything was my fault. Then one day, I woke up. It’s like the blinders were removed, and I saw how his persona was toxic. Leaving was the only choice. More like escaping. If he’d known what I was planning, he’d have killed me before I tried and blamed it on my depression. Then I saw the signs outside of your shop about the job and apartment, and my entire life changed.”
Easton smirks. “For the better, I hope?”
“Absolutely. I think sometimes people come into your life for a reason. I have no idea why, but I wouldn’t have been able to navigate on my own without you. I was handed the freedom I desperately craved because I could never go back to Nebraska. For the first time in my life, I did what I wanted. It was exhilarating but frightening.”
“Life is strange like that sometimes, and things just work out. I’m glad I met you, Tatum.” He smiles.
“Me too,” I admit, and we go back to seashell hunting. I find more glass, and when we decide to head back because we’re both starving, my eyes widen.
“Oh my God!” I yell, bending over to pick up a fully intact sand dollar.
Easton runs over. “Holy shit! This is incredible.”
“I’ve always wanted to find one of these but didn’t think it’d ever happen.”
“It’s rare to find them not broken. When we were kids, we called them mermaid coins.”
“Really? That’s kinda adorable,” I admit, ecstatic.
“Yeah, it’s actually really lucky. They say they’re a good omen and a sign for good things to come.”
I look down at the sand dollar in my palm and am overwhelmed with happiness. It holds way too much meaning for me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me a sliver of hope.
Easton gives me a high five, then we head toward the house. Maybe, just maybe things will get better. I hold the sand dollar tight, hoping and praying it will.
Chapter Eleven
EASTON
DAY 14
After a day of taking and making calls, I feel mentally drained. Apparently, the investigation of what happened to my shop is still ongoing, but I’m hoping to hear something back next week. While I don’t want them to rush their review, I’m growing impatient.
Tatum has been such a huge help, and we were able to get the inventory sheets together and submit them. There was more in the shop than I realized, and all I want is for everything to be the way it was before so I can try to recoup some money from the shop being closed. It was the absolute worst timing, but it usually is when disaster strikes.
After I take a shower, I change clothes and meet Tatum in the kitchen, where she’s cooking something that smells amazing. I move toward the stove, and she looks over at me with a smile.
“Wow, whatcha making?”
“Thought we could do some shrimp tacos and black beans. I even made homemade tortillas.”
My eyes widen. “We had the ingredients for that?”