Someone Else's Ocean

by Kate Stewart

  Ignoring me, she took a seat on the barstool by the island. “You’re cooking for me?”

  Her smile was forced, but I went with it.

  “Yeah, I wanted to surprise you with my favorite dish from when I was a boy.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s called Boboties. It’s spiced meat with egg custard and topped with raisins.”

  “That sounds… interesting. Let’s do this, I’m starving. All I’ve had to eat today was flying metal with a side of glass soup.”

  I frowned at her indifference, feeling her rattle with nerves across from me. “Not funny.”

  She held up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart in front of her. “A little bit funny. My Jeep is totaled, well, my parents’ Jeep. I don’t even own a car, how am I going to have a baby?”

  I froze the workings of my hands and faced her. “You’re pregnant?”

  She must have realized her slip. “No. God, Ian, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she waved her hand like any drugged person would.

  “Why are you talking about a baby then?”

  “I just, in the future if I wanted to have a baby, I don’t even own a car. I’m too poor to be a mother. Never mind, I’m rambling.”

  I pressed for more information, high on pills or not, I had to know.

  “Are you thinking about a family?”

  “I just saw the cutest little boy ever and it made my ovaries ache, that’s all. Don’t get weird.”

  “I’m not being weird, you’re being weird.”

  “I’m high, what’s your excuse? And why aren’t you cooking, crocky? I’m starving!”

  “On it, your highness.”

  A beat of silence passed. “He was beautiful though—the baby, Noble—he was perfect. Shy, and just so… they were happy, you know, it wasn’t forced or fake, you could see how happy they were.”

  I began slicing some onion. “It’s okay to want a family, Koti.”

  She laughed without an ounce of humor. “Yeah, uh, I’d be a great mom. ‘Hold on honey, mommy’s having an anxiety attack in the pantry because I can’t handle making a hundred cupcakes for your class tomorrow.’” She spun on the stool animatedly delivering her own self-deprecating blows as my chest cracked for her.

  “Thousands of people with anxiety have children, stop it.”

  “I full-on had a meltdown because I wasn’t sure if God existed today. Do you think it’s okay to subject your child to that?”

  I set the oven temperature and leaned over the counter. “You were in a car accident, it’s okay to feel—however the hell you want to feel—after something like that happens. Stop hurting yourself with lies.”

  Imploring eyes sought mine. “Are you afraid to die, Ian?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a part of life I accepted when I was a soldier and I grew immune to death, as tragic as that sounds.”

  “Where did they go, Ian? When your friends died, where did they go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then how are you not afraid?”

  “Because if it’s nothingness then we aren’t aware of it and if God exists, we have to assume it’s a place far better than the one we’re standing in. Those are the two options, right?”

  “Guess so. Well… there’s hellfire and damnation for being faithless.”

  “See, I’m of the belief that if there is a creator so divine, he wouldn’t have the capacity to be so cruel to those he created.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Good, then take comfort you’ll either be blissfully in paradise or completely unaware you no longer exist.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “I’m sorry that it is for me.”

  Her face twisted to mask the sob she was holding. “I’m not sorry for you. I’m happy you aren’t afraid. You’re so smart.”

  “As are you.”

  “And still so polite,” she said as tears made their way down her cheeks.

  “I have to believe there is a place for us because I want there to be for my daughter.”

  Koti nodded, “I understand. I want that for her too.”

  “And I want it for you,” I told her truthfully.

  “Thank you.”

  I moved around and gripped her shoulders. “Koti.”

  “Yes, Ian?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she sniffed, more tears budding in her eyes. “I’m not okay. That scared the shit out of me.”

  “I know, so let me put my tea down and be responsible for you, just for tonight, okay?”

  “Coffee,” she corrected as her voice cracked.

  “Coffee,” I whispered.

  Three weeks later…

  I WHISPERED THROUGH A HALO of blonde hair. “Hey, beautiful, wake-up.”

  “I should probably tell you those are fighting words.”

  I chuckled and kissed her until she roused from sleep.

  “Would you please let me recover? Surely there’s no skin on your penis after that last round.”

  This time I couldn’t help my laughter as I gathered her to me and lifted her from the bed.

  “Ian,” she sighed, kissing my neck and wrapping her legs around my waist. “I can appreciate how sexually starved you must have been after going without, trust me, I love sleeping with you.” I made my way down the porch steps and onto the sand. “Sex with you is my favorite hobby, but there are necessities that need priority as well. Wine, s’mores, and sleep.”

  Setting her on the beach, I smiled down at her and turned her to face the ocean. “Shut your drivel, woman, and look.”

  Her grin disappeared as her mouth parted. “Oh, my god!”

  She sank into my frame as we stared at a moonlit sky. The islands below easily seen due to the sheer size of it. Thousands of stars littered the sky leaving us momentarily speechless.

  “My God, now this is a good excuse to wake a girl up.”

  “I thought you would appreciate it.”

  “I used to be such a huge fan of the stars,” she sighed. “So much mystery. I believed all that hoopla about mythology until my science teacher told me they were balls of fire. It was kind of like finding out Santa wasn’t real.”

  “Sucked the magic right out of it?”

  “Exactly. Like why can’t we leave certain things a mystery?”

  “Some would argue that those balls of fire in relation to where we stand are important.”

  “I don’t want to know if some asteroid is coming for me.”

  “You’re safe tonight.”

  “I feel safe.” My stomach dropped as she settled further into me and I reveled in the feel of her warm skin.

  She turned in my arms more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen in my thirty-eight years.

  “This is wildly romantic, Kemp. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Got a little moonstruck is all. I remember skies like this when we camped after a safari in South Africa.”

  “I can’t imagine how amazing that was. Growing up there must have been incredible.”

  “I’ll be a Saffa till I die. I can’t believe my parents moved us to Texas. I’m still pissed.”

  We both laughed.

  “That’s the way it is, right? You think you’ll end up one place and you end up on a different planet.”

  With both hands, I pushed the hair away from her face. “I loved this planet.”

  Even with the white noise of the waves, I was sure she could hear me swallow.

  Her eyes watered as she looked at me for the truth. “This is an asteroid, isn’t it?”

  She searched my eyes before she hung her head. “When do you leave?”

  I choked on the answer. “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  She turned in my arms again to face the sky, seconds later I felt one of her tears fall on my hand as the rest of me shattered with the weight of it.

  “I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m not
angry.”

  “I want to stay. If that makes any difference at all.”

  “Of course it does.”

  Minutes later, in an attempt for any conversation other than the suffocating silence, I leaned in to whisper, “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Sure.”

  “Can you look out for Disco?”

  She sniffed. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  Agonizing seconds later, she finally spoke.

  “So,” she said as she took a deep breath. “I’m assuming you pulled this all together last minute to break it to me gently? Did a FaceTime with NASA to lasso the moon?”

  I chuckled though I was already aching. We stood wordlessly a moment longer as she clutched my arms.

  “I’ll be okay. I don’t want you to worry about me. I know Ella needs you.”

  “I know you will.”

  “You know I would live on your planet if I could.”

  I gripped her tighter to me. “The invitation stands.”

  “This sucks. Of all the beaches in the world, why did you have to have your breakdown on mine?”

  “I’m not at all sorry we happened.”

  She sniffed again. “Me either.”

  “Koti, look at me.”

  “I can’t. You can’t make promises and I swear to God, that’s all I want to hear from you right now so… just give me a minute.”

  “Okay.” That minute was agony as we felt the reality come crashing in through the dream we’d existed in for months. An eternity later, I turned her to face me and kissed her tear-stained cheeks.

  “You’re making breakfast due to the deliverance of shitty news.”

  “Deal.”

  I brushed the tears away from her eyes as she looked up at me.

  “Please be honest. Would you stay here with me if you could?”

  “Without a second thought.”

  She sniffed again before I took her lips.

  When we pulled away, she gave me a sad smile. “That’s good enough.”

  “Koti—”

  “There’s nothing to say. Not tonight.”

  I nodded.

  “Take me back to bed?”

  “Let’s go.”

  I WATCHED HER SLEEP, TRACING her skin with my fingers. She stirred slightly, her hair askew and then turned to face away from me. The pain that tiny move caused was unbearable. No part of me wanted to leave her. No part of me wanted the life that waited. I’d taken a job and sold my house to move into a rental. My future idle and dependent on Ella’s. Decisions had been made, life was in order, my daughter was waiting. I had to leave. Koti stirred, and again I was graced with the sight of her face. She slept restlessly most of the time, her beautiful form flailing at all hours of the night. I’d been on the receiving end of some seriously rough hours but had grown used to it over the months on my side of her bed. The only time she fully stilled was when she lay on my chest. I pulled her into my arms to give her more peaceful minutes of sleep and she went instantly lax. I whispered my apology while she slept.

  “What have I done to us? I’m so sorry.”

  I let it happen. She played a part too, but in the end, I’d given her every part of me. She knew my every side, the small details, and I knew hers. We shared the things that made us significant and I’d allowed it, knowing how much it would hurt to lose it.

  Aside from my little girl, life had never gifted me anything so beautiful. I knew every inch of her golden skin, had drowned in the icy-blue pools of her eyes and basked in her warmth. I’d pulled every sweet sip from her lips. We’d become magnetic and inseparable and I let it happen in my selfish haze knowing it would rip us to shreds to lose it.

  She was my golden shore after the shipwreck that was my life and she’d loved me with her whole heart, only to let me break it.

  “Ian! Where are you, Ian!” she cried as she raced around the house.

  “Over here, Koti,” I said, gathering wood in the alley for the fire I was building us.

  “I’m leaving. Mom says we have to leave early. I can’t do the bonfire with you.”

  “Okay, it’s okay, don’t cry.”

  “She’s making me go to the school camp, so I can make friends. I don’t like those girls. I told you about them.”

  “I know. But you’re easy to like so just let them come to you, okay? Remember what I said?”

  “Have fun anyway?”

  “Right.”

  She hiccupped as her chest heaved with her upset. “You’re my best friend. Don’t forget me just ‘cause you get bigger, okay?”

  “I won’t. Besides, we’re neighbors. I will probably see you around sometime next summer. Right?”

  She nodded and nodded. “Maybe you’ll come back, and we can be best friends again.”

  I rubbed the top of her head and she pushed it away with a smile.

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, and you’ll make me s’mores again?” She was still crying but trying her best to be brave for me.

  “Banana pops too.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear it.”

  She hugged me tight with her whole little body and let go just as fast. “Bye, crocky”

  “Bye, puffer fish.”

  “Forgive me,” I whispered as I sank into sleep with her one last time.

  Ian’s duffle bag fell heavy on the porch as I swayed in the hammock with Disco in my arms. Seconds later, Ian knelt at my feet and rubbed his fingers through her fur. His voice alone was enough to threaten the strength I’d mustered up.

  “I was just thinking earlier this morning about the first time we said goodbye. Do you remember that?”

  I cleared my throat. “Nope, must be the one that got away. So, here’s the way I see it.” I stood and let Disco down at his feet. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’m taking the easy route.”

  Pushing up on my toes I pressed my lips to his briefly and smoothed his cheek with my palm. “Go be happy, Ian. And do me a favor, take one small piece of advice from your muse?”

  He bit his lip and nodded.

  “Do whatever the hell it is you have to do to make yourself happy.”

  I was fighting hard and losing as my throat burned with each passing second. “Okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Okay. And by the way,” I said, rambling on as I took the steps off the porch, “you’re a good friend. The best. And if you ever get back to St. Tho—”

  I was pulled from the sand and crushed in his arms. Tumultuous gray eyes burned through me as he leaned in. “I choose the hard way.” His mouth crushed mine in a soul-stealing kiss and I felt the rest of me break beneath him. He pulled away, his eyes shredding me as they filled with regret. He didn’t want to hurt me, and I drew comfort that it hurt him just as much.

  “I’m fucking miserable about leaving, but I would never ask you to give up your life for me. But if you ever find yourself in need of a change from the routine. Come to Texas.”

  I nodded as tears collected in my eyes, unable to speak for fear of begging.

  “Kissing you feels like a free fall, touching you makes me ache, and being inside you is so damn addicting. I’ll miss that, and our talks, our friendship. I’ll miss your bubble, Koti because that’s where I want to be, where I want to stay. And if it weren’t for Ella—”

  “I understand,” I said around the ball in my throat. “I do. I swear. But watching you fall apart and put yourself back together was a gift. I’m so amazed by you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. It’s ridiculous. We’re like a bad movie line, aren’t we? We’ll always have St. Thomas,” I rasped out.

  “Jesus, I feel like hell.”

  “Me too.”

  “I already miss you.”

  “Me too.”

  “And because I’m a complete masochist, I can’t help but mention I’ve fallen madly in love with you.”

  The world started crumbling beneath my feet
as my stars were stripped away one by one. Swallowing a sob, I briefly showed him my pain. “Please go. I don’t think I can do this with you much longer.”

  He nodded and picked up his bag. “Okay.”

  He made it halfway down our sand alley when I stopped him.

  “Bye, crocky.”

  He turned to me with a sad smile. “Bye, puffer fish.

  Tears streamed down my face as he walked toward his truck before once more glancing back at me.

  I whispered my plea to the wind. “Maybe you’ll come back, and we can be best friends again.”

  He nodded as if he’d heard me and I fell apart where I stood. He took a step toward me and I shook my head.

  “Go,” I begged.

  Shoulders slumped he got into his truck as I croaked out his name, but it was silenced by the wind.

  And then he was gone.

  Three months later…

  “MORNING BABE,” JASMINE CHIMED AS she put her desk phone on speaker and some melodic hold music filled the office.”

  “Hey,” I said, trying to clear my head to start my workday. I’d had an attack last night and Disco had peed on the bed next to me. It had been a shit morning and I didn’t at all feel like sharing. The pattern I’d started years ago had begun to recycle. I’d been having more attacks than usual, and I knew the reason. No one was to blame, but I’d never been so emotionally strung out. Horrible thoughts of Ian with someone else kept racing around my head as I attempted to fall asleep each night. I couldn’t really blame myself, it had been months. There was a chance he was dating, or worse might be developing feelings for someone else. But if he felt a tenth of what I was feeling, maybe he wasn’t living at all.

  “You’re a wreck. Call him.”

  “Why? Why do I have to be the one? I don’t even know if he’s feeling it on his end at all. Maybe I was imagining it.”

  “He told you he was madly in love with you. He didn’t leave because he wanted to. He left because he had to. There’s a difference. You didn’t get left.”

  Brown eyes stared down at me as I swallowed. “I’m forwarding the phones to my cell. You look like shit and I don’t want you greeting the renters this morning.”