I sit beside Gabriela as we watch the sun set on the horizon and she slips her sweater on, pulling the sleeves over her hands as the breeze cools a little and when I shift closer and put an arm around her, she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m not sure what’s more beautiful,” she starts. “The sunsets or the sunrises.”
“Maybe it depends on the day. If you need a beginning or an ending.”
The moon replaces the sun in the sky. It’s full and the night is clear.
I work the sails and navigate the boat to Skull Rock and a little while later, I lift her out of the boat. We walk onto the shore where we sit on the sand and look back at the house, at Palermo in the distance, and the moonlit water. The only sound is that of the water lapping against the boat, waves gently rolling onto the beach.
“What is this place?” she asks.
“Skull Rock. At least that’s what my brother and I named it. Look,” I lean close to her, point. “Close your right eye and look at the rock. Tell me it doesn’t look like a human skull.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Yep. Exactly what we liked when we were little.”
“I saw a picture of you when you were little. You were cute. And fat.”
I can hear a smile in her voice. I smile too. “I never passed up a plate of my mom’s homemade pasta,” I say with a wink.
Her smile fades a moment later and she lies down on her back to look up at the sky.
I watch her. She’s so fucking beautiful. Even like this, sad and pale, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Do you miss her?” she asks.
“I miss them all.”
She glances at me but shifts her gaze back to the sky. “Do you believe in Heaven and Hell, Stefan?”
I lie down too, hands behind my head, and think about her question. Think how to answer her.
“Yes and no.”
She turns her head to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“I believe in hell. I believe that’s where we’re left when they die.”
“That’s so sad.” Her eyes glisten with tears and one slides over her temple.
I wipe it away. “You cry too much.”
“Please don’t call me a baby and ruin this.”
She must see confusion on my face.
“You’re being nice, Stefan. Don’t mess it up.”
“I wasn’t going to call you a baby.” I turn on my side, set my elbow on the sand and lean my head in my hand. “What do you believe?”
She shifts her gaze up. “I think those stars are us. When we die. I think they’re our souls. And I think you’re right about hell being right here.”
Her voice breaks on more tears. A torrent of them.
“Gabi,” I say, not sure why I use that abbreviated version of her name.
She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. Instead, I turn her to face me and I lean down to kiss one of those tears. I taste the salt of them and when I’ve kissed them all away, I set my forearms on either side of her face. She looks up at me, her hands on my shoulders.
“Everyone I love is dead. Everyone but Gabe. And he’s…he’s not…”
“Shh.” I lift her to me, hug her, holding her tight as she dissolves into tears. If I let her go, I wonder if she’ll disappear. Melt into her pain. “You may be broken, but you’re not alone. You don’t have to be, at least.”
She turns her head away, shakes it, pushes at me to get up.
“Don’t push me away,” I say, not letting her go.
“One heroic act does not a hero make,” she says, repeating my words from earlier.
We just stay like that for a long minute. Then, without asking, I begin to undress her. I didn’t bring her out here to watch her cry. I brought her to stop the tears.
When she resists, I tell her to be quiet. I leave her bra and panties on and stand to strip off my clothes. I then lift her up and carry her into the water.
“Stefan, no!” She clings to me and struggles against me at once.
“Yes.” I hold tight to her and she gasps as I walk in deeper. “I won’t let you go. I promise.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I’m scared.”
I stop when the water comes up to my chest and she’s partly in it. The sea is cool and calm. “Do you trust me?”
She looks up at me and I know I’ve given her no reason to trust me. The opposite.
“Do you want to trust me?” I rephrase.
She nods and I get the feeling she’s desperate to.
I take another step. “Watch the sky, Gabriela, and know that I won’t let you go,” I tell her as I swim out and she slowly relaxes, loosening her death grip, and, finally, floats.