Page 126 of I Wish You Were Mine

My friends stay close as we paddle back to shore. Once we’re there, I collapse onto the sand. That, too, is cold, but it’s warmer than the water was.

I suck in huge lungfuls of air and close my eyes. Let the sun sink into my skin, slowly thawing the numbness there.

Ray of fucking sunshine.

God, I miss her.

I hear acrack, followed by a familiar hissing sound. A second later something is being pressed into my hand. I open my eyes to see Abel offering me a beer, wrapped thoughtfully in a koozie. I can feel the raised print ofDixon Carts & Moreon the foam sleeve.

“Thanks.” I sit up, bending my knees so I can rest my elbows on them.

The three of us sit and stare out at the ocean and drink. Well, Abel and I drink beer while Riley slugs some water. He’s been sober since he went through a rough patch when we were nineteen. No one says a word. I appreciate how they’re giving me the space I need to talk, while also not pressing me to talk at all.

My throat is so tight it makes my head hurt. I drink my beer in thirsty pulls.

When the can is empty, I dangle it over my knee. “She left me last night.”

Riley and Abel take a second to absorb the news.

“What happened?” Abel asks.

How do I explain this? “It’s a long story.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.” Riley nudges me with his elbow. “We’re listening.”

“Losing Becca destroyed me. I shut down after that for years. Until I met Maren, actually.”

“She opened you up,” Abel says.

I nod. “She was—is—so different. The second I let her in, I think I fell in love with her.” The air wheezes out of my lungs at the sound of those words. “And then we’re at the hospital and the doctor is telling us about the possibility of Maren bleeding out and the baby dying, and I just, like, get this vision of losing someone I love all over again. It freaked me the fuck out.” I wipe my eyes. “I can’t go through that a second time. So I shut down. I shut Maren out the way I did in the beginning, and she rightfully walked out on me.”

Abel puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re just trying to protect yourself.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“You do know Maren didn’t bleed out, and the baby didn’t die,” Riley says gently. “Everyone is okay.”

“That’s the most fucked up part. Obviously she’s fine. But my mind”—I snap my fingers—“immediately went there.”

Abel squeezes my shoulder. “Makes sense. Becca did anabout face on you out of nowhere. With Maren, you’re anticipating the worst because the worst has happened to you.”

“It’s like you were triggered,” Riley adds.

“That’s what it’s felt like, yeah.”

“Ever talked to someone about this?” Abel asks. “A therapist? Counselor?”

I wedge my beer can in the sand. “I did right after Becca left. It helped. Well, it helped me survive. Get to a place where I could function. The anxiety I felt was unreal, but we got it under control.” I shake my head. “I don’t know, I guess I controlled it by putting walls up. Once those walls came down...”

“You were vulnerable, and you were terrified of getting hurt again.”

“Yes.” I scoff. “So I pushed her away.”

“You need to talk to someone again,” Riley says. “And then you need to get Maren back.”

Abel meets my eyes. “He’s right. Never mind the fact that she’s having your kid. You’re clearly obsessed with her. Not that I’m complaining ’cause I’m happy for you, but you ain’t exactly been around all that much since she came into the picture.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been spending all your time loving up on her,” Riley adds.

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