Page 136 of For You


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“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t give you that money sooner.” Luke looks ahead, and I see with perfect clarity the tangle his mind is still in over it. By saving Billy, he lost me. But nothing could save Billy. It’s not Luke’s fault. Though something tells me that no matter how many times I tell him so, he won’t believe it.

“They say God has a plan, right?” I realign my focus on the sea, feeling my nose going numb.

“You sound like Pops. He said that.”

“I have to have faith in something. Anything to try and make sense of all this.” I feel his nod of agreement. “Why did you bring me here?” I ask, letting Luke slow us to a stop at the end of the promenade.

“Take off your shoes.” Luke kicks his boots off, and then pulls his socks from his feet, leaving him barefooted on the freezing cold concrete.

“Are you mad?” I ask seriously.

“Take them off.”

I frown and dip to rid my feet of my shoes. “I notice you didn’t deny it.” Wriggling my toes, I shudder, the cold traveling up my legs to my torso. “Oh!” I yelp as Luke scoops me up and starts to carry me down to the shore. “Oh my God, don’t you dare take me in there.” I cling to his neck tightly, making it as difficult as possible for him to put me down. “Luke!” The sea is getting closer, the salt stronger, the cold colder.

When he reaches the shore, he drops me to my feet and crouches in front of me, rolling the bottoms of my trousers up to my knees. Then he does his own and takes my hand. I look at him in question as he starts to walk forward, tugging me on. He says nothing, just gives me a look of encouragement. I don’t know his game, but I fill my lungs, bracing myself for the killer cold, and walk forward with him. The moment the water touches my toes, I crush his hand. “Jesus.”

“Keep going,” he whispers, hardly heard over the crashing waves.

I shake my head in dismay and keep going until the water is nipping at my ankles. It’s still not enough, Luke pulling me onward. Every time a wave crashes in front of us, the spray hits, splashes of icy, salty water hitting our faces and making me flinch. Luke only stops us when the water is midway up my calves.

“It’s not safe any farther,” he says, showing no signs that he’s freezing to bloody death.

“That’s a relief,” I retort, looking down at the foamy swells of water lapping around my legs. “Why have you brought me into the freezing cold water, Luke?”

“Because I want you to remember something,” he says, taking both of my hands and turning into me.

My eyes jump up to his. “What?”

“I want you to remember that you’re still alive, Lo.”

My throat dries up on me in an instant, my tongue swelling in my mouth, stopping any words passing my lips. I look away from him, staring out across the sea again. I know he’s right. I know many people have lost someone they love and have somehow gotten on with their life. But I feel so raw, and the pain is so intense. It’s hard to see past that right now. I have someone here, someone devoted and patient, to help me walk the path of grief. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. He made a promise to Billy. A promise I shouldn’t let him break, but I need time to get past the anguish before I can even think about trying to love Luke. Because he doesn’t deserve some half-baked love. He deserves everything my heart can offer. I just have to find the strength to build myself up again. And, most significantly, I know he’s prepared to wait, tolerant and willing, for me to accept what I have with him and embrace it for what it is. A lifeline. A chance to be happy again. A chance to love with all my might and have that love returned.

I want you to remember that you’re still alive, Lo.

Isn’t that what Billy wanted too? And if I follow Billy’s instructions, that will also mean I’ll remember that I can still love too. When I can find the peace to do that. I do love Luke, but it’s a different love at the moment. And right now, I don’t know how to love two men at once.

I sniff back my tears and look back to Luke, who, God love him, is doing what he does best. Being patient. I smile, not forced, but actually very easy. “I can’t feel my legs,” I tell him, fearing my toes could break off as I wriggle them on the seabed.

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