“My God, you look smug for this time of the morning,” I rib as he approaches. His hearty chortles ring out across the empty space and echo off the relatively calm waves.
“It’s just a great day to be alive, Jake. Don’t you think so?”
I laugh. “Are you high?”
“High on life, my man. Just blessed to be here with you this morning. I know your morning ritual is all sacred and shit. I’m surprised you even agreed to fit me into this part of your schedule.”
“I made you come an hour before sunrise. I’ll still be able to swim on time.”
Garrett laughs. “You’re a machine.”
Normally, he wouldn’t be far off, but this morning, I’m dead tired. After a restless night of tossing and turning over dreams I can’t quite remember, my energy feels depleted.
Most people would opt out of the morning routine—take a break, sleep in, and try to recharge. But I know my body well. It likes structure, and it likes physical activity. Both of those for me are the staples that get me through long days, tough days, days that seem to never end.
They’re where I find my strength and the discipline it takes to maintain it. That, and it always makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something.
On a day when I don’t feel quite like myself, an extra three-mile run with Garrett on the beach is just the thing I need.
“What happened with the fires up north? Evidently, you didn’t end up getting called up there.”
“Nope,” Garrett answers and bends down to touch his toes, stretching out. I take that as my cue to limber up as well, doing a few hip twists and then grabbing my foot and holding it to my butt to stretch my quads. “They got it pretty under control, down to a thousand acres, but another fire just broke out about thirty miles south of there,” he explains. “I’m almost definitely getting called out for that one. Our unit is first on the list for support outside of the precinct.”
I meet his eyes. “Bethanny giving you shit?”
His smile is a little disconcerting as he answers, “Definitely.”
“And that makes you happy?” I ask with a laugh.
He shrugs. “I’m tired, dude. I…don’t think it’s working. I think I’m going to seriously consider talking to someone about the right way to file for divorce. I don’t want to surprise her, but I want to be prepared.”
Suddenly, the smiling, buoyant guy who stepped onto the beach this morning is making sense. Garrett’s a good-spirited person. He’s not negative or angry at all—pretty much ever. But there was a lightness in his step today I haven’t seen in quite a while. I have to imagine the possibility of extricating himself from the constantly stressful situation with his wife took fifty pounds off his shoulders.
“It seems like you’re feeling really good about the decision?” I ask to confirm. You know, before I do a cheer or offer him congratulations in the middle of a secret emotional breakdown.
He shrugs, just the tiniest of smiles curving up the side of his bearded mouth. “Do I like ending my fifteen-year marriage to a woman I promised to spend the rest of my life with? While we have two kids together and this will affect them greatly, no matter how much I try to protect them?” He shakes his head. “No.”
I nod in understanding.
“But does it feel like I can finally breathe again, after struggling to do so for the last five or so years?” He holds his hands up and out to the sides. “Fuck yes.”
“I get it, dude. It’s not an easy decision, no matter what. I respect the hell out of you for trying everything you could until you couldn’t anymore. I know for a fact that you gave it more than I would have.”
He pulls his foot to his ass to stretch his quad and laughs a little. “Thanks, man.”
“That said, you know I’ll do everything I can to help support you and the kids while this is going on. No matter what, you can call, yeah?”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Garrett jerks up his chin in affirmation. “So, can we go for a run now? I need my lungs to burn.”
I don’t waste any time, turning and taking off down the beach without warning. I turn to yell over my shoulder, “I’m ready when you are!”
His glare is almost brighter than the moon as he takes off after me at a sprint. I return to facing forward, stop smirking, and put my ass in another gear. Otherwise, he’s going to smoke me in no time.I’m usually able to run without losing my breath at all, but Garrett is like a rabid dog today, nipping at my heels with questions and comments every step I take.
“How have the dates been going?”