Chapter Eight
* * *
Eden - Four years ago
“Jamie’s fishing boat’s been found, Eden,” my dad whispers into my ear.
My head spins. “Is he alive?”
“We don’t know yet. All we’ve been told is three of them are missing and one’s been rescued. The other families are being told now, too. We’re waiting for the Coast Guard and police to confirm, but apparently one of them was found clinging to a life buoy. We have to stay positive. C’mon chicken.”
He wraps his loving arms around me.
I look around the shoreline at the sorrowed faces of our friends and families.
Standing here waiting. Shivering from the utter shock of it all, not the cold. We’ve been waiting for news for over six hours. Then this.
“Oh my God, Dad.” I sob in his arms. “Please let him be okay.”
Everyone is wrapped in their own pain as cries and sobs slowly weave through the crowd as the news spreads.
The next few hours painfully drift by. The confirmation of three men missing at sea is announced. The search will continue in the morning. Without saying a word, we all know what it means.
It feels like a slow-motion movie.
The ship sunk. Only debris from the boat has been salvaged so far.
Heartache. Pain. Loss.
It feels like I’ve left my body, detached from myself and watching as it all plays out in the scenes below.
Four families torn apart. Never to be the same again.
* * *
“Eden… Jamie’s alive.”
For a moment I lose consciousness and my legs go out from under me.
I come to with my dad’s face hovering above with tears running down his face, smiling happy tears.
“He’s alive, Eden.”
Hope surges within me.
My voice trembles, “What, how, are you sure?”
“He survived. They have taken him to the hospital. We need to go.”
* * *
Life was never the same after Jamie’s boating accident.
The boys were never found and the families of Ross, Thomas, and Nick were forever changed. The wave of pain was felt by all in Castleview Cove.
Apparently we were the lucky ones.
If only they knew.
I got my boy back, but he was not my Jamie.
Tormented. Withdrawn.
Jamie disconnected from us all.
Jamie suffered deep emotional and psychological trauma of epic proportions.
He denied it for a long time. Months, even.
As time went on, we grew apart.
His flashbacks and nightmares consumed him daily.
Living close to the boys’ families became a burden and a painful reminder that he was here and they were not.
He didn’t want to be the boy who lived; he wished he’d died that day too.
He told me so when he sobbed in my arms.
Somewhere along the line, part of him died.
And so did our seven-year relationship.
Little did I know I was three months pregnant on the day of Jamie’s accident.
Exactly three months following the accident, Jamie left Castleview Cove. Leaving one simple line on a text message. I’m sorry. I can’t stay here anymore. Love always, Jamie.
No kiss. No explanation. No mention of our baby. No return plans. Gone.
Leaving me, his family, and his unborn child.
I cried myself dry. In deep pain, I wallowed in my sorrow.
Not knowing where he was or where he’d gone.
The uncertainty of my future.
Searching for answers.
I was frantic.
Then I lost our little girl.
I lost Jamie.
I lost Chloe.
At the age of only twenty-three, I lost myself too.