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He released my hand and looked away from us.
I rubbed the circulation back into my hand. “So, how long?” My voice cracked.
“It’s hard to say for sure, but we will do what whatever it takes to slow down the degeneration.”
Dr. Roberts went on to tell us that the cause for Pulmonary Hypertension (PH) is unknown and that recent advancements in treatment have proven to be effective in prolonging the life span, but the degeneration would still occur, and the quality of life would still decline.
Bridger had remained quiet for a long time when we were finally alone. Both of us were silenced into a state of shock. All the plans we had seemed to fizzle out like the stars at dawn.
“Char?” He had been calling me that since we first met.
I went back to his side and took his hand again. I had wandered over to the window after the doctor left.
“Do you need something?”
His head rolled over the pillow and his eyes met mine. “I’m sorry.” His lip quivered.
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Tears filled my eyes again.
“I’m so sorry.” His composure crumbled and his body shook as the anguish fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
I crawled into the tiny hospital bed and wrapped my arms around him, resting my head against his. We both mourned our stolen future together. There was nothing we could say that would make this better, so we just held each other tightly until we both fell asleep.
Every night before I fell asleep, that day in the hospital replayed in my head along with the day Bridger died. No matter how much I wished, those moments could never be altered or erased. They were tattooed into my soul until I, too, one day died.
After tossing the full bag of trash into a bin, I sat by the water’s edge with Midnight, slipping off the boot to reveal a black and blue swollen ankle. I rolled it gently in both directions and then stretched both legs out in front of me so the waves could reach my shins. The cold water felt good when it slithered around my stiff ankle. Midnight curled into my lap, and we watched as the sun slowly descended the sky, displaying a brilliant array of orange and pink colors across the horizon. Bridger and I had been lucky enough to catch sunsets like this almost every night after he retired from the circuit. Our home was situated on a hill with an expansive backyard view facing west.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Drew sat down next to me.
I sat up, uncomfortable with the sudden invasion of space. “Yeah,” I replied as I absentmindedly brushed sand off my leg.
“Levi mentioned you were some sort of trash lady,” he teased, obviously trying to break the tension.
“Oh, did he?” I raised a disapproving eyebrow at the unflattering nickname.
“I think it’s cool,” he added.
“Great.” I smirked, wondering if his opinion mattered.
“Can I ask you a question?”
My stomach knotted. Questions led to more questions, which could lead to a deeper conversation, which I was vehemently opposed to. Maybe if I remained quiet, he would get the hint and go.
“What brought you here to this particular beach?”
He didn’t get the hint and I sighed softly, staring into the sunset, remembering all the years I spent here with Bridger. The first time I saw him. The first time we actually met, which was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. The times he spent teaching me to surf.
I cleared my throat, hoping that would hold back the tears that were threatening to spill out.
“I guess you could say I grew up here,” I finally answered. And hadn’t I? This was where I had my first kiss, lost my virginity, got married, had my vow renewal, conquered my fear of the ocean. It’s also where Bridger and I spent his last days. This beach was our home, even more so than where we actually lived, and while it was difficult being here, it also brought me an odd sense of comfort.
“I grew up at a lot of beaches. I’ve always loved to surf. I’m not getting any younger, so thought I should get in as much as I can before my body shuts down on me." He patted his stomach. "Something you don’t need to worry about for quite some time,” he added thoughtfully.
“I’m not as young as you might think.” I definitely felt decades older than I was these days.
“I just turned the big five-O,” he offered.
“Happy birthday,” I said as an expected pleasantry. “Hitting my forties sucked.”
