The ocean is dark and endless, waves crashing against the rocks far below. The shattered pieces of my guitar are down there, disappearing into the water with each new wave.
I watch them go.
My knees threaten to buckle, toes curling harder into the stone as my fingers twitch uselessly at my sides, sticky with my own blood.
What the hell am I doing?
Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m up here. One wrong move and I’ll be flying after my Fender.
Before I can get myself down, strong hands catch my waist and haul me back.
Chapter eleven
Yosh
It’s strange how something as simple as letting the sun warm your skin can feel almost unfamiliar. I’m outside every day, running at dawn, walking the Arcadia grounds, teaching yoga and meditation in the garden. Always moving, always thinking about the next task.
Letting the sun sit on my skin like this? It feels like a reminder that warmth still exists, and that it isn’t only tied to what I’ve lost.
A shadow falls over the table.
“Can I get another Pinot Grigio, please? And you?”
I look up from the menu I’m not really reading. “Just water, please.”
Tiffy sways her microbraids over her shoulder and drains the last sip from her glass. A different waiter takes it from her, replaces it with a new one, and leaves a basket of warm bread between us.
We used to grab lunch all the time between shifts, sharing sweet potato fries, gossiping about coworkers and whatever new disaster her brother Shaylon got himself into. But lately I’ve been practically living in Arcadia. And when I’m not there, I’m knee-deep in construction at my new place.
That needs to change. I need to change.
“We should do this more often.”
“Good to hear,” Tiffy says, tearing off a piece of warm rosemary bread. “Because I genuinely thought you forgot I existed.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just really want to lead my department, so I have to go that extra mile now. Things will change once I get there.”
“Mmh. Famous last words. ‘Once I finish this project, I’ll totally relax.’ You’ve been saying that since you arrived on Avalon four years ago.”
I laugh. “That hurts.”
“I’m serious. Every time you take on 'one more thing,’ you develop a new obsession. First it was getting your chiropractic papers, then psychology. Now it’s the alternative healing department. Next it’ll be that house of yours.”
“It’ll be fine,” I insist. “Once my place is finished, I won’t have any reason to spend my weekends there.”
“Sure.” She lifts her glass in a toast. “To my workaholic bestie, who definitely knows how to take a break.”
I roll my eyes, but I raise my glass too.
“To a fresh start.”
That’s what I want. Maybe I’ll invite people over once the house is finished. Have brunch or something. Nothing big, just a simple way to reconnect. Let people in. Stop being so fucking lonely.
It all sounds good in my head, for a single second.
Forget it. My home is my safe space. The last thing I need is people coming over, asking questions, pointing at my crystals. I’m not down for that. Absolutely not.
“Earth to Yosh.” Tiffy snaps her fingers. “Tell me what crisis you’re having. Your face is doing that thing again where it talks before you do.”
