“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The past. Austin. This place. What we did.”
“Get over it.”
She threw her hands up in the air and scoffed. “Easier said than done. You aren’t reminded of the damn past every time you look at your daughter. You aren’t living in a house that is a shrine to the man that died on the night we . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “I live with this guilt.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“I don’t know what you live with, Bowie. I’m not here.”
“You’re right,” he said, stepping toward her. “You’re not here. You bailed when shit got bad. You left us all to pick up the pieces as if they were only ours to pick up.”
“And what? You think I should stay and live with everyone hating me? Like Grady?” She shook her head. “No thanks.” She turned away from him, but he wasn’t having it. “Stop,” she said when he stood in front of her.
“I’m not the enemy, Brooklyn. Your thoughts and memories of the past are, and yet you treat me like I’ve done something to hurt you when all I’ve ever done was be by your side and love you from afar. What happened between us had nothing to do with Austin’s decision to be reckless that night.”
“If we hadn’t fought—” She looked away.
“If you hadn’t fought that night, it would’ve been the next night or the one after that. The two of you were heading in different directions; you were from the start. Neither of you were willing to admit it because you were comfortable. Believe me—I get that. But to blame yourself, to blame me, it’s not right.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
“If you know, then give me a chance. Give us a chance.” He pulled her hand up to his chest, and she could feel his heart pounding for her. “As much as I hate to admit this, but seeing you, after all these years—my feelings are back. In fact, I’m certain they never went away, just dormant, held down by regret, guilt, and anger. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t feel anything for me?”
She shook her head, which confused him greatly.
“Help me out, B. I’m a simple guy and need words.”
Brooklyn laughed, although it sounded more like she tried to hold back a sob. “My feelings for you haven’t changed in all these years. I’ve thought about you every day since I left. There were so many times when I picked up the phone to call you but could never press the last number. I didn’t know what to say or how to apologize because telling you that I’m sorry didn’t seem like enough. I made a mistake the day I left you, and I’m sorry.”
His cheeks pulled so wide they started to hurt. “I’d like to take you out or at least have you over to my place for dinner. I’m not asking for much, B. Just a chance to see if what we were going to build together is still there.”
“It’s still there,” she told him. “At least for me.”
“Me too.”
“Okay.” She covered her face. “You must think I’m a moron. Yes, dinner at your place or wherever sounds great.”
He chuckled. “And I’d like to take Brystol fishing.”
“I think she’d like that.”
“What about you? Do you want to come?”
She had a feeling he already knew the answer, but she gave it to him anyway. “That’s a giant nope on my part.”
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I figured as much.”
They walked back toward the bonfire where everyone still sat. She excused herself and went back to the house. If she’d stayed, she would’ve had a beer or two, and she didn’t want to be responsible for what she did or what words came out of her mouth. It was better for everyone involved if she wasn’t there.
TWENTY-TWO
For the first time in years, Carly felt alive. She sat in front of her vanity, brushing her hair as she listened to the laughter down below. Austin’s friends had come out to honor him once again, and she was thankful to have been a part of the celebration this time. Many people she didn’t know or couldn’t remember had come out, but his core group of friends was there, right along with his daughter. It hadn’t escaped her notice either that Bowie had chosen to sit with her girls. She had watched them through the night, and if she hadn’t known better, she would’ve called them a family. Every so often, Bowie would point at the sky, and Brystol would pay attention to whatever he was saying to her. When Carly wasn’t focused on them, she stared out over the ocean, trying to pinpoint the spot where her son had perished as the embers from the fireworks disappeared into the water. As much as she hated the continual merriment, she loved that everyone came together for her son.