She’s in the small, private alcove of beach that is pretty much the sole reason I bought this property, standing right on the edge of where sand meets ocean. She’s in her bathing suit, a white halter one-piece that makes her already long legs look like they go on forever. The wind has picked up her strawberry blond curls, is tossing them in every direction as the waves lap at her toes. With her face turned up to the sun and her arms lifted in exultation, she looks like some kind of goddess from ancient times. Earthy and sexy and awe-inspiring and untouchable all at the same time.
For long seconds, I stand transfixed and just watch her. She really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And all I want is to be worthy of her, to make her happy. To make her feel safe. Too bad I’m doing such a lousy job of that so far.
It’s that thought that finally galvanizes me into action, that has me taking two at a time the steep stone steps that lead down to the water.
She turns to face me before I make it even halfway down. And holds her hand out to me, beckoning me closer.
The knot inside me finally dissolves at this final proof that she still loves me. That she’s still here…and still mine. Once I get close enough, I take her hand, pull her into my side. She lets me, and so we stand there, staring out at the crashing waves for what feels like forever.
She doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I don’t know if it’s because we’re too worried about breaking the fragile peace that’s settled over us or if it’s because there’s too much to say. Either way, the air is heavy with the weight of all the words we’re not saying.
Finally, when I can’t take it any longer, I start, “Chloe—”
“I wasn’t leaving you,” she interrupts. When I just stare at her in confusion—not sure what she’s saying or how I’m supposed to answer it—she continues, “When I left Vegas. I wasn’t leaving you. I was just—”
“Just what? You didn’t call, you didn’t text, you didn’t even leave a note. You just disappeared.”
“Because I knew you’d follow me.”
I stare at her, baffled and incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“Look, I know it was a shitty thing to do. I didn’t mean to scare you, didn’t mean for you to think I’d run off and left you for good—I thought we already covered the whole forever thing when we got married. But I wasn’t getting through to you in Vegas. I couldn’t get you to look past your fury and your hate. I was hoping if I could get you back here, where you belong, you’d see reason.”
“I think I’m being eminently reasonable.”
“No, you’re not!”
“Brandon is a threat to you and I’m eliminating that threat. What could be more reasonable than that?”
“Are you even listening to yourself? You just talked about eliminating your brother, a human being, like he’s nothing more than a business problem that has to be dealt with! How is that reasonable?”
“Eliminating him as a threat to you. Not out of existence. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I don’t think I’m putting anything in your mouth, Ethan. You’re so wrapped up in this revenge scheme of yours that I’m not sure how far you’ll go to make it happen. And that scares me. It’s all you can see now—”
“I see you.”
“Do you? Do you really? Because I’ve been telling you from the beginning how much I don’t want you to avenge me, and yet you keep pushing it. Keep going and going and going on this path that I don’t want you on and it’s like you don’t even hear me.”
“Jesus.” I drop my arm from around her, pace a few steps up the beach to work off some of the nervous energy that’s bubbling inside of me. “I don’t get why you’re so dead set against this. He raped you. He made your life hell for years. He played a part in destroying your whole family and he never paid for it. You spent years locked in a cage of your own fear and pain and rage and he has never spent a day in jail for it. How can you not want to see him taken down? Especially now that he’s running for a position of power that will make it even easier for him to abuse another woman?”
“Is that what you think? That I don’t want to see him punished?” she demands.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been saying all along? That you don’t want me to do this because you just want to move on? That you just want to forget?”
“I’ll never forget, Ethan. He raped me. And then he went to school and told all his cool, senior friends that I was a slut. That I begged him for it. That I wanted rich cock as much as I wanted air. And any time I tried to say something different, any time I tried to change the discourse, that damn nondisclosure agreement was thrown in my face.
“Brandon all but declared open season on me and it kept up long after he graduated. I spent years in hell, afraid of being caught by myself in stairwells or classrooms or just walking home from school because his rich buddies thought it was their right to say and do whatever they wanted to me. I have been groped and fondled and sexually harassed by more boys than I can count. I have been pinched and slapped and bruised. I have been pushed down the stairs. I have been—”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!” It’s a scream of pure primal rage and it’s torn from me without my consent as her words rain down on me like fists. I’ve heard some of this before, but other parts are brand new and it’s like I’m hearing it all for the first time.
Before I can stop myself, I grab Chloe by the upper arms and demand, “How can you not want revenge? How can you not want me to bury him? Bury all of them?”
“You think I don’t want revenge? You think I don’t want Brandon to pay for what he did to me? Sometimes I want it more than I can breathe. When I walk by a group of men at work and I can barely hear over the frantic beating of my heart…when I’m at a party and I’m paranoid until I can find a corner to press my back against so I can protect myself…when you touch me when I’m not expecting it and I flinch away because I can’t not remember…I want it then so badly that it’s all I can think about. Making him suffer the way I’ve had to suffer.”
“Then why are you fighting me on this? Why are you pushing me to let it go when that’s the last thing either one of us wants?”
“Because I love you! I love you so much that I am stupid with it, that I can barely breathe with it. Don’t you see? I love you so much more than I will ever hate him. If someone had told me six months ago that was possible, I would have laughed in their face. I never thought I’d ever care about anything more than I hated Brandon.