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From the soil and dust, I pull the remnants of what was his baseball cap, and inside, a frayed and decayed bracelet with a dirty silver bead.
The fragments of postcards and paper have disintegrated.
“I came here to bury everything I had of yours. I buried the paperwork from the hospital, too. I thought by locking it away, it would help. But I never grieved. I never knew how.”
Strong arms lock around my shoulders and pull me to him. Tears well and escape from my eyes, marking something I should have shared with my family years ago.
Jayce keeps me wrapped in his arms, just like on the beach, and lets the sadness drain from me.
“This place was always special for us. It’s where you said goodbye to our baby.” His voice catches and sounds scratchy as he finds his own words to come to terms with what I’m sharing.
His vulnerability slays me all over again, and I suddenly feel overcome with regrets. “I’m sorry.” I choke. “I’m so sorry.” The need for him to forgive how I’ve treated him is like a visceral thing running through me.
“It’s okay, Zee. It’s okay.”
We stay silent for a while, neither of us looking at each other.
Finally, I open my hand to examine the fragments more closely. As I do, I catch Jayce swiping at his cheek and turning away. It breaks my heart all over again.
“I loved this hat,” I mutter, wanting to remember the good right now. Needing it.
“I know.” He picks out the bead and rubs it on his shorts. “Just like new.” He twists it in his fingers, and I lean over to pull the matching bead out from behind the shirt covering his chest.
“It shocked me that you had it all those years. It was like a ghost. Even more so than first seeing you back.”
“And I wanted to ask what happened to yours. I wanted to ask you so many things. I never did get your email. I thought you chose to simply not stay in contact. Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you for sharing your loss.”
After the sun starts to drop, I place the frayed and tatty remnants back in their tomb and cover them back over. I’d wanted to mark the fact that this was an important part of our story. I’d needed the closure that burying these items gave me all those years ago. But today is about sharing in those memories and letting Jayce be a part of that. We keep the silver bead. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jayce gets a brand-new necklace or bracelet by the end of the week.
The journey back down feels lighter, and I hope that by doing this together, we have a better chance of succeeding in our future.
CHAPTER31
JAYCE
Now
After that evening, we slip into a routine and celebrate the past with the present. Breakfast at Molly’s becomes part of it. At least once a week, but often more, we eat at the diner where we first met.
Just like when we were kids, I wait for Zee outside her house and walk with her. There is a nostalgia to what we spend our time together doing—like we are re-making the memories we had of those two weeks together that summer. And we’re free now to enjoy those memories.
Meals at Molly’s, time on the beach, I even convince Zee to have an ice cream when we spend an afternoon on the sand.
Summer is here, and in a few weeks, my work will really start. I’ve logged the training hours for the instructor qualification, and we have two experienced instructors hired for the summer season. Everything is finally coming together.
Zee is busy with plans and contractors getting to work now that the council is on board with the paperwork she has submitted for her venture. The sooner the project is underway, the better in my eyes. It will be another anchor to her staying in Tregethworth.
“You know, we could easily offer a discount on surf hire or lessons for any of your customers. An incentive for booking?” I’ve cooked dinner for Zee after she’s come over to share the latest design sketches of her glamping pods.
“I’d love that. Supporting local businesses is a part of our USP. All of the materials, décor, and furnishings will be locally sourced. Maybe I could ask Molly about a loyalty card idea.” She turns away from me and rummages in her bag for her phone as I top up her glass with her favourite red wine.
Zee doesn’t believe in making notes with pen and paper, and everything is stored on her phone.
“Come on. The washing up can wait. Sofa. Wine. Us.” I drag her away from the breakfast bar and bring our glasses with us.
The sun has just vanished into the sea, but we like to sit and look out at our view.
I pull her against me and put my arm over her shoulder.
