This is it. It's the end of me. This unimaginable torture will never subside. Last night I went to bed next to my future, and when I woke up it was gone.
Chapter 10
Weston
I think it hurts now, but going home is impossible. When I pull up at Oyster Cove I’m a freaking disaster. I no sooner shut off the ignition to the truck when I finally lose it. I’m beating the steering wheel while warm tears blind me. My bellowing gets the attention of someone inside. It’s my father who rushes outside, curious and concerned. He stands at the driver’s side and tries the handle. It opens and I almost fall into him immediately.
“Son. What’s going on?”
He doesn’t know. None of them do. The porch fills with wondering eyes, and I can’t conjure up the courage to speak. Everything is spinning out of control. My stomach knots and I wonder if I hold my breath long enough I’ll be able to pass out and avoid telling them.
I try to get the words out. I fail three times, my button lip trembling so much I can barely keep my lips closed. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m not broken, I may as well be dead too. Nothing lives inside of my heart now. Someone locked away the best parts of me and threw away the key.
“Is it Brice? The baby? Son, what’s going on?”
My stepmother comes up behind Dad and looks me over. “He seems to be in shock, Buck. Let’s try to get him inside,” Alice suggests.
I let them help me, because let’s face it, I’m in no condition to do it on my own.
Minutes pass and I can’t speak about it. They’ve given me space, but I hear them talking about me in the kitchen. Dad is on the phone with Brant and Jamie. He’s wondering if they have any idea what’s gotten me this messed up. Then I hear a phone vibrating in my pocket, and it’s not my ringtone. It’s Brice’s phone. Dad’s walks into the room and sees me take it out. He hangs up and take a few more steps toward me. I stare at the device as the words finally manage their way out of me. “She’s gone, Dad.”
“Gone where, son?” He takes the spot beside me on the couch, still not fully understanding.
“Dead. Brice is dead.” More bellows escape me as I say it. “She died this morning.”
I’m unable to explain things further. It’s too hard. My dad holds me much like he did when he told us Mom was gone. I’m crippled, and not one person in the house knows what to say or do for me. Right now I need this. I need to let it all sink in, so I can figure out what happens next, and how I’m supposed to keep living in a world without Brice.
Instead of badgering me, Dad makes a ton of phone calls. Alice knows someone at the hospital and reaches out to them. They’re able to find someone in the intensive care unit who tells them what happened when Brice was brought in. I’m still in the same spot on the couch, while they recite what they’ve learned to the rest of the family in the kitchen. Bristol comes over and sits beside me, leaning her head against mine much like Brice would do. I hate it, but at the same time I don’t want to be alone. I take her hand and grip it to thank her, but still have no power to speak.
Brant and Jamie arrive not much later. Jamie’s crying her eyes out, while Brant kneels in front of me. He’s the oldest, and I’ve turned to him when things were bad in the past, but in this case he can’t get it. He’s had two good loves in his life after Mom, and now he’s married and ready to start a family. He has everything I’ve lost. It’s impossible to be around him and not feel jealous. I resent that my brother gets to be happy while I lose everything dear to me in one blow. They all mean well, but none of this helps.
Chapter 11
Weston
How does one say goodbye to their entire future? How is it possible to want to move on to the next day without the person you share your life with? I don’t know what to do, say, or how to feel. Right now I want to break everything standing in my way of the future I planned with Brice. God, I miss her. I miss her smile, her kind words, that beautiful body, the way her hands could touch me and make my worries subside. I miss being able to look forward to our life. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose another person I love with my whole heart. It’s not fair. None of this is. More importantly, how does the earth keep spinning when we lose our soul mates? How is anyone suppose to recover from this type of devastation?
Her parents made the funeral arrangements. I’m sort of happy they didn’t ask me to attend the meeting with the cemetery director. Talking about stones and caskets made me uneasy. We always said we wanted to be cremated and thrown into the sea. Now she’s going to be buried six feet under and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to change that.
The news of Brice's death hits our small town like an earthquake. Calls, flowers, fruit baskets and casseroles bombard me. I don't know how much they think one man is able to eat, but I don't even have the room to store it.
I've been staying at Oyster Cove, because the idea of sitting in my house without her isn't something I'm prepared for. Each day I rise with new hope, only to be knocked down when I discover it's Hell all over again.
The funeral will seal it all for me. Against my opinion, her parents want an open casket viewing. Knowing the amount of cranial damage she endured, I hardly believe the beautician will be able to work miracles. The decision wasn't up to me. I haven't been able to step foot in her parents house since this all happened. In fact, I haven't even seen them since the hospital.
Karen has been real nice with everything. She's called several times to relay funeral information, and even tell me Kimber's surgery was a success.
Dad is doing everything he can to support me. Last night we sat outside on the deck in the freezing cold, and not once did he try to make me talk. I don't think I could if I tried. The mere thought of her destroys me all over again. I'm stuck in a never ending circle of pain. There is no escape. Nothing helps. Not alcohol, or the little bit of sleep I'm able to get. No matter how hard I try I can't remember the last words she said to me. She could have told me to stop snoring for all I know. Familiar faces are all around, but conversation doesn't come. I want to dispose myself from this life and never come back again. I want to crawl in that casket with my beautiful, smart, love and never let her go. We used to say we'd grow old together, but now I don't want to grow old at all. I want to take a boat out into the frigid ocean and sink it with me in it.
My grief is unbearable. It’s taken possession of me and I don’t see a way to shake myself free of the suffocating torture I’m under the influence of. Locked in an eternal dungeon, my heart shatters into millions of tiny particles. There’s no glue in the world that can repair such a catastrophe. I don’t think I want to be fixed. Feeling this kind of remorse reminds me of everything we had, everything that’s been stripped from me.
Brice used to tell me I would heal but I’d never fully get over the loss of my mother. She said I had to rebuild my purpose around the things in life I was able to control, and not burden myself with what could have been. Those words were so powerful back then when I needed her to fix me.
The roles have changed. Where I desperately yearned for salivation before, I’d rather suffer an unending amount of pain now. I want to die, because the end of my existence won’t make this any easier than it is. It’s like I’m drowning in a pool of my own tears. I can hide them from the rest of the world, but never myself. Some might think this is easier for me because I have experience with loss. They’re fucking wrong.
It’s the day of the funeral. I’m not prepared. I’ll never be prepared to tell Brice goodbye. The church always seemed large until one of the island's doctors passed away. Now it's stuffed with people, and as much as I'd like to hide in the back to save face, I must head to the front.
Her parents are greeting people as they come up to pay their respects. My father's hand holds firm on my shoulder, almost like he's prepared to push me, need be. We wait in a long line, some people stop to tell me how sorry they are for my loss. I bite down and keep my jaw locked in order to hold it together. The closer we get the mor
e flowers I'm able to see. The ones I ordered for her are somewhere in the mix. They're her favorite yellow carnations. I've written something special I'm going to put in the casket. Knowing it's in my pocket makes me feel as if I'm about to give away my last piece of hope. Behind me I know my family stands united. They'll be here for me as long as I need them, but we all know the void will never be filled.
When it’s my turn to approach the casket I suck in a deep breath and take in my surroundings. All eyes are on me, at least the people in the vicinity of where I stand. Dad comes with me, but stops walking a few steps away to give me space. I stare at her hands, because the idea of seeing that beautiful face without emotion, lifeless, it’s too fucking hard. I could break down and cry at any second. There’s no regard for the people who might be watching, and all the reason it’s better if I hold it in. I can swear that I won’t, but it’s probably undeniable. I can’t unlove her. My heart isn’t going to suddenly unbreak. My mind won’t shut off the feelings.
Taking my time, I scan her fingers and see the ring I placed on one not long ago. So many promises went into that commitment. Without even considering what I was doing, my hand comes up and grabs hers. She’s cold and stiff, but it’s still Brice. That’s my ring, my promises. I was once lost until she found me, and now I’m right back in that same wretched limbo. My eyes fill with warm fluid and the first drop misses my cheek and hits her arm. I watch it slide down into the fabric of the casket while I fight to gain the courage to look at her one last time. I don’t want to remember her this way, but I’ll regret this if I don’t do it anyway.
Tucked in my pocket, I pull out the note I so easily wrote the night before. I say it was easy because I was talking about my unending feelings for her. That will always come without effort.
I think back to some of the words, and the way it crushed me to put them on paper. If she’s somewhere out there watching over me I know this piece of paper is irrelevant. My Brice already knows the extent of my love. Sometimes I didn’t have to say it. Our connection did it for us.
It takes a whole lot of pain to lift my eyes to her face. She’s not my Brice. Those beautiful cobalt eyes are forced shut. Her lips the same way, and with some sort of gloss over them Brice wouldn’t be caught wearing. Not caring if anyone will fuss, I take my hand and wipe it off. Those once soft lips I couldn’t stop kissing are like the cold skin of a dead chicken. A sob escapes me, but my gaze doesn’t leave her. I pet her hair, styled around her face, and notice all the makeup it took for them to cover the bruising around her forehead. They’ve trimmed her bangs to hide most of the injuries, but it’s still a hue of purple. I sniffle and hear voices getting louder behind me. People are waiting for their turn, but I don’t leave. I can’t. I refuse to walk away from this final moment with Brice.
“I love you, babe. I’m dying here without you.” I run my hand over her stomach. “You take care of our little one for me. One day we’ll meet again, and I’ll make you fall in love with me all over. Rest easy, and take care of my heart until we’re together again.”
I care barely manage the words as a gentle hand comes up and touches my shoulder. It’s her mother. I’m kind of shocked. She’s never touched me in a comforting way. “Considering what she went through I think they’ve done a good job.”
I nod, because talking at this point is impossible.
“I know you’re hurting, Weston. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but we know Brice loved you.”
I just keep nodding.
She pats my back. “Do you want another minute with her?”
This time my head shakes. “No. I’ve said everything I can.”
We hug. It makes this all worse. My eyes stay closed as the tears pour out of them. This isn’t how Brice wanted us to finally get along. “I’m sorry for your loss, Kathy. Brice was everything to me. I wish I could trade places with her. I’d do anything to bring her back.”
I don’t know if she understands what I’m saying. It’s not like I’m speaking clearly. Before she can answer I walk away. Air. I need it. I have to retreat out the door I came and take a few deep breaths to be able to get through this.
Caleb and Coop are walking up the path sharing a smoke. I meet them and take it from Coop, the drag filling my lung with a smoky burn.
My head shakes and I squint when the sun peeks from a wandering cloud. “She’s really fucking gone.”
“Look, bro, Caleb begins. “We’re here for you.”
I nod. “Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps saying, but they aren’t living in my constant hell. I need to get out of here for a while. It’s too much, too many reminders.”
“You want to leave the church? Need a ride somewhere?”
I shake my head. “I need to leave the island.”
“But the family is here, West,” Coop reminds me.
Running my free hand through my hair, I sigh heavily. “There’s nothing here for me but pain right now. Trust me, no one is going to want to watch me destruct again. Stepping away is the right decision.”
“You’re coming back, right? I mean, you’re not going to leave and disappear forever are you?” Caleb inquires.
I wipe my eyes again as I respond. “Only time will tell.”
Chapter 12
Weston
One week after Brice is buried in the ground I’m packing up the little I’ll need and heading north. I’ve made a couple calls to a friend of mine who used to oyster with us. We went to high school together, and when he comes home to visit he gloats about the amount of money he makes crabbing and fishing in Alaska. It seems like the right move for me. I want seclusion and it doesn’t get much more lonely than moving to the furthest part of the country to avoid everything I lost.
This trip has a lot of firsts for me. I’ve flown in a commercial plane before, but never a tiny ten passenger craft that feels like it’s going to fall apart with every gust of wind. It isn’t until we land that I wish it would have just crashed and ended my existence so I wouldn’t have to suffer.
Nick Jenson greets me at the small building they call the airport. The wind whips, making the winter coat I’m wearing seem like thin fabric. Nick shakes his head with an amused grimace. He points to his extra thick parka lined with fur. It reminds me of the one I bought for Brice, the one she was wearing when she left the night she’d never return from. I wince at the thought and remember where I am and why I’ve come so far.
We half hug in a reunited kind of embrace. “Good to see you, West. You look like shit.”
He’s right. I’ve let myself go. I haven’t shaved since the accident. I barely sleep, and when I do dreams of what I’ll never have again wake me. I’m miserable and it’s taking a toll on my body. “Room to talk. I almost mistook you for a bear.”
He guides me toward a large four-wheel drive vehicle that’s still running. Snow drifts outline the building he’s parked against, and in the distance is the most beautiful landscape I’ve ever set eyes on. There’s snow capped mountains as far as I’m able to see. “Tell me you have heat at your cabin.”
“You’ll get used to it. You think it’s bad now, wait until we’re out in the Bering Sea, freezing our balls off. I swear mine go up in my stomach and stay there until a few days after I’m home.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” He’s joking, but the temperatures are going to take me a while to get used to. It’s not just cold. It’s blistering. My face hurts each time the wind blows. I’ve been outside for five minutes and my skin feels chapped. This sucks.
The drive back to his cabin takes hours. We’re really in the middle of nowhere. I’m surprised we come up to a town with small stores and people around. Every one of them wave as we pass by. I’m taking in the surroundings, trying to get a lay of the land for future reference. I’m not planning on shacking up with Nick forever. Still unsure if this will turn out to be my forever home, I have to set down roots.
It wasn’t what my family wanted to hear, but I didn’t leave them without hope that I�
�d return one day. The house Brice and I shared will be there for me. We were both on the mortgage, and had paid extra every month for an unexpected death insurance policy. The house will be paid in full, so I only have to worry about the taxes until I return. I’ve told Coop and Caleb they could live there to keep up with the place. The only stipulation is that they can’t touch Brice’s things. Alice and Jamie went over and packed away most of her clothes and put them in the attic. I don’t know what I’ll do with them, but for the time being I’m glad they aren’t in the closet collecting dust. They took her parents a few things I thought they might want to have. As far as the walls full of pictures, well they’re going to remain in my bedroom with the door locked. Caleb and Coop can use two of the three rooms on the second floor without ever needed to step foot in my private area. For now it seems like the right decision. Brice loved that house. She was renting it before we got together, and when the landlord put it up for sale we jumped on the idea of making it our own. It’s a piece of her I’ll never get rid of, even if I can never bring myself to live there again.
Nick pulls onto a long dirt road surrounded by large pines. It’s bumpy and we’re following tracks in snow that’s at least two foot in depth. I place both hands on the dash to keep from bouncing around in my seat. “How far back is your place?”
“Just around this bend. It overlooks the lake. How are you about using an outhouse? I may have forgot to mention that.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“I’m fucking with you, man. Don’t get your little panties in a bunch. I have electric and plumbing. Hell, I even have a nice generator in case we lose power. You and I are used to living in a town with little resources. It’s not much different, except for all the rain Chincoteague gets, we double it in snow. The lake is frozen for about six months out of the year, but we can ice fish. If we’re lucky we’ll get put on the same crew, if not you could be away when I’m home. That’s why I said I didn’t mind if you stayed here. There’s a good chance you’ll have this place to yourself half the time. It’ll work out.
Waves of Despair: Oyster Cove Series Page 7