I stare out over the sea. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. The sun is kissing the horizon. It gives the cold blue of the ocean a golden glow. Even in the stark gray of dusk, the water in the cove below is turquoise. A white beach hugs it, just like the one where we had the picnic. Sharp rocks are scattered treacherously throughout the bay, I’m guessing making it difficult for boats to anchor here. It’s like a small slice of paradise in hell.
Slowly, I edge forward, until my toes hang over the cliff. My body screams at me to go back to safer ground as fear claws its way through my chest. It’s a fear I’m no longer unfamiliar with, the fear for my life. Self-preservation kicks in, making me tremble and sweat, making me feel sick when I peer down. I’m a coward. I could’ve fought Maxime harder. I surrendered too easily. I hate myself. I hate feeling helpless and weak. I take another pace until only my heels are resting on the rocks, my stomach climbing up in my throat as my body sways in the strong wind.
“Zoe.”
I turn my head at the sound of my name. It’s instinctive. It’s a trained reaction, like a dog minding a whistle. Maxime stands on the path, a distance away from me. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of tracksuit pants. His chest and feet are bare, his scars exposed to the elements.
He raises an arm. “Give me your hand, little flower.”
I look back down at the sea, scary but oh so pretty. I’m tired of being weak. I want to jump like him. I want to jump and know I can survive. Carefully, I lift my right foot, posing it over the abyss.
“Zoe! Look at me.”
The last I hear is Maxime’s howl as I face my demons and step over the edge.
~ THE END ~