But I didn’t.
Because I’m too selfish.
But the clock was ticking… seconds, hours, days.
And the time has come.
The other shoe is going to drop.
Chapter Twenty
Nora
I can’t let him go.
I watch him as he sits on the beach, staring at the f**king buoy that taunts him.
I know I should. I know I should cut the strings right now and walk away, but I’m not strong enough. I need him.
I need him.
Something has changed in him, something important, but I don’t know what. His expressions soften whenever he looks at me and I can feel the change when he holds me at night. He’s tender and his touch is ever so soft, a glaring contrast to the hardness of his body.
He’s a trained killer, an Army Ranger. He’s capable of so many dangerous things, but when he’s with me, his touch is feather light. Careful.
Like I might break, like he suspects that I’m made from crystal, like he wants to protect me from shattering.
Warmth gushes through me at the thought.
Somehow, he’s opened himself to me. He wants me. And as much as I thought I couldn’t expose him to me, because I might taint him, and somehow take his goodness away, he’s still Brand.
He sleeps with me every night, and he’s still as good as he ever was.
Is it possible that I could be with him and not tarnish him?
Am I delusional to even hope?
There would be complications, of course, but there always is in life. He sees me for who I am. And he doesn’t ask questions. He just sees me.
My heart wants to burst from the mere happiness of it all.
So much so that I want to do something for him.
Right now.
Before the other shoe drops and my world crashes down.
While I’m still strong.
Before I break on the floor in front of him into a million pieces.
I get up and march outside, straight to where Brand sits.
“Call that lawyer,” I tell him. “We’re taking care of this today.”
Brand stares up at me in surprise, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“What do you mean? Take care of what?”
I put my hands on my hips.
“I know I told you to handle your father’s will however you want to handle it. And I meant that. But I know you, Brand. You don’t back down from anything. Ever. Ring the bell, Brand. And don’t ring it for him… ring it for you. Ring it so that you can put all of that ugliness behind you--- so that from now on, whenever you see a lake or an ocean or a buoy… you won’t think of ugliness. I’m going to swim with you. We’re going to do it together. Because I’m with you, Brand. I’m with you.”
He stares up at me, dumbfounded and then he simply nods.
“Okay.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
He pulls out his phone, punches in a number and waits.
“Todd? Come out to the beach. I’m taking a swim this morning.”
He slips the phone back into his pocket and gets up.
“Should you wear a bathing suit, or are you planning on making Todd’s day?”
I roll my eyes and laugh and we stroll to the house to change.
“You don’t have to give everything to your mom, you know,” I tell him. “You can do whatever you want with it. You need to take this swim for you, Brand. Not for her, not for him and not for me. You need this… to be free from them.”
He stops, turns and pulls my face to his, kissing me as thoroughly as I’ve ever been kissed.
He pulls away and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. Everything he had to say was in that kiss.
We change and head back down to the beach. Todd arrives a few minutes later, holding a paper in his hand.
“It has to be from the beach behind your parents’ house,” he announces without preamble. “That’s part of the stipulation.”
“Fine,” Brand tells him, and without another words, stalks down the beach. He’s barely even limping.
I follow behind, and before long, we’re standing behind Brand’s childhood home. The buoy looms huge and haunting out in the lake, tilting with the waves. I shudder when I think that his sister died out here…. and that his father used to beat him right where I’m standing.
I feel someone staring at me, and as I look over my shoulder, I see Bethany Killien standing at her windows, watching us. Her face is set, and firm, and I don’t see any softness there. I shiver, and turn back around.
Today isn’t about her.
I grab Brand’s hand.
“Let’s do this.”
He nods.
And then he walks straight into the water, as if he’d never ever been scared of it. He dives under the surface with purpose and for a moment, I forget that I’m supposed to be swimming with him. All I can do is watch the strength with which he glides through the water, his strong arms pulling him through, stroke after stroke.
I’m mesmerized for a moment, until I remember that I’m supposed to be with him, so I follow his lead and dive into the surf.
***
Brand
The water is frigid, of course. Because it always is. It doesn’t matter if it’s August or November, Lake Michigan always feels like ice water.
But I don’t flinch or hesitate. I plunge in, and swim toward that motherfucking buoy.
Each time I surface, I take a breath and dive back in.
The water is clear, and cold, and everything I detest. But with each stroke, I realize that it isn’t the water I detest. It isn’t the lake. It isn’t even that f**king buoy.
It’s my father.
With every stroke, I shove his memory further away, decimating his power over me.
He doesn’t control me anymore. I’m not the kid that I used to be.
Nora’s right.
He’ll never control me again.
With strong, even strokes, I approach the buoy, gulp for air, and then explode through the surface, grabbing onto it. I cling to the buoy for a second, before I violently shake it, to and fro.
The bell rings out clearly, into the air, all the way to the beach. I glance toward my parents’ house and see the curtains of the living room fold close. My mother had been standing there, but she walked away.
That’s fine. I’d expect nothing less.