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What she wouldn’t give to take a fraction of his pain away. She pushed the pasta around on her plate before taking a long gulp of the expensive wine she’d ordered. “You should eat.” She motioned to his meal.
Link flinched as if just realizing he wasn’t alone. After lifting the fork and knife, he cut into the steak before putting it into his mouth and grimacing as if it tasted like sawdust. “Why do you think he sent us on this trip?” he asked before draining the last of his beer.
She took a deep breath. It was her turn to gaze out the window as the last sliver of pink disappeared into a monochrome dark blue sky. “Maybe it was his way of trying to bring us together.”
He scoffed. “I doubt he would be very happy with just how close we got on this trip.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. So that’s where the guilt in his eyes comes from. Emma could tell him that his father was more perceptive than he was.
“You deserve to be seen, baby girl. Don’t settle for anything less.” Her father’s words after finding her in one of the rare times her emotions had got the best of her returned, and the tears came. Hearing Link with his girlfriend from college, Rachel, talking about moving in together had torn the fantasy she had built in her head.
It was impossible to tell him that his papa had known something was there between them—at least on her part—without admitting she’d always had a thing for Link. Emma wasn’t ready to confess this had always been more to her. That she was willing to agree to temporary because she’d take the table scraps of his attention. And here I am settling.
“Maybe he knew we needed each other,” she offered instead.
“You think he’d hate me for what we did?” Link asked, looking directly at her.
She swallowed and shook her head. “He could never hate you. You are his son. Everything he did was for you—for us. Sometimes, I think he knew me better than I did.”
“I guess we’ll never know.” He sighed and waved over the server. “We’ll take the check.”
Link paid and then they went back to the car.
She climbed into the back seat, unbuckled the wooden box containing the urn, and held it close to her chest as she walked down the rocky shore to the sandy beach. A gust of warm salt air blew against them, sending their clothing rippling over their skin. Link wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, with only their father’s ashes between them.
He kissed the top of her head. Her face turned upwards as stars began to peek out from the darkness. The half-moon provided just enough light to see Link’s face. Dark waters rushed the beach before receding. Back and forth. Over and over in an unbreakable cycle.
“Do you believe in an afterlife?” Emma asked. Their father had been religious, but he’d never pushed those beliefs on his kids.
“I don’t know. I’d like to think he’s in a better place. But there’s also a part of me terrified he can look down and see what I’ve done.” Link’s shoulders drooped.
“Hey.” She lifted her hand to his cheek, making him meet her eyes. “Papa was proud of you. He understood more than you know. And if this is what brings us happiness, he would be our biggest supporter.”
Link’s doubt-filled gaze shifted back to the black waves. “So how do we do this?”
“Why don’t we start by saying something?”
“You go first,” he directed.
Emma swallowed and peered out to the vast ocean and luminescent sky above her. Only at the edge of the world could one feel so insignificant. “Papa? I’ll always love you and carry you in my heart . . . I am because you rescued me. Thank you for taking me in, for loving me . . . for seeing me . . . I’ll never forget you. Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace.” Her throat caught, a ball of emotions clogging her voice. She blinked back the tears that wanted to fall. Link squeezed her shoulder, bringing her comfort. She leaned into his touch, savoring his reassurance.
“Uh, I guess . . . I don’t know what to say except . . . I miss you.” His voice was a rasp, as raw as his confession. “I wish you were still here. I wish I’d cherished our time more. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you giving me a hard time and telling me what I should do, just so I can go out and do the opposite and learn the hard way.” Link chuckled, a self-deprecating laugh.
Emma rubbed his back in encouragement.
“I-I’m sorry, Papa. I’m so sorry.” Link’s voice broke as he stumbled, falling to his knees. Emma crashed into the sand with him, wrapping her arms around him.
“I’ve got you. I’m here,” she soothed as a sob was wrenched from him. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.” As long as you’ll let me.
She held him, rocking back and forth as he let out his grief. Her heart ached right alongside his.
Once his breathing slowed, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and picked up the wooden box. After opening it, he pulled out the urn. Link plucked the bag of their father’s remains and held out his hand for hers. She wrapped her fingers in between his as they walked towards the water. His chest rose and fell as if he were summoning the strength to say goodbye. She squeezed his hand, letting him know she was with him, tethering him to her as their shared grief pounded against her ears like a relentless push and pull of the waves.
A gust of warm wind blew at their backs before he dumped the ashes, the tide carrying them out to sea. His body trembled and jerked as a sob broke free.
Emma’s heart tugged, a string pulling her towards the dark water. She wanted to chase the wind, swim until her muscles gave up and the cool waters pulled her under into blackness. Maybe there, in the darkness, she could find the other piece of her soul. Maybe then it would stop hurting.
Link took her hand, pulling her away, anchoring her to reality. They gathered the things they’d brought, and he led her to the car.
