I find myself humming along to the songs being played by the booth closest to me as I watch the sun begin to set. I hadn’t even realized the time.
I stand when I hear my dad’s voice, and my heart stops. I close my eyes, and for a second, it’s like he’s back here with me. I smile for just a moment before that hope slips away. I clutch the railing of the pier as his laugh sounds on the speakers, and a lump forms in my throat.
This is why I don’t listen to the radio.
I can’t move as the interview plays; and when they start playing one of his more popular songs, I break. Tears stream down my face as my heart shatters in my chest. Without even thinking about it, my feet move, and I’m running down the pier. I keep running onto the sand and down the beach, trying to escape the pain.
It feels like I can’t breathe. Like the pain of hearing his voice is going to be the thing that finally sends me over the edge. Hearing him sing hurts so bad, but hearing him talking and laughing like that hurts even worse. For a second, just one, it was like he was here again. Like my life wasn’t a fucking mess. It was as if my mind forgot he was gone and felt peace before having all of my safety barriers torn away once more.
I run until there’s no one else in sight and fall to my knees in the sand, letting out a scream filled with so much pain that it makes me cry harder.
My dad was my safe haven. He was the person that didn’t leave. He was always there.
Always.
And now he’s gone, and it’s like I can’t breathe properly anymore. My whole world crumbled once he died, and I feel so lost.
I’ve tried to find myself ever since I lost him… Since he left me… And I’ve done so well at pretending like I didn’t lose myself at the same time.
I shift in the sand and clutch my knees to my chest as I sob, hoping that the tears dry themselves out. I’ve tried to be strong, but I'm so crushed without him here. The pain of not having him with me is so devastating, especially after the second of mindlessness on the pier where I almost convinced myself that he was here with me again. The legacy that he left behind for me, his music, was meant to be his gift to me, but it haunts me instead, and I’m raw.
Placing my forehead on my knees, I cry until I feel hollow. Even then, I can’t stop. It feels like losing him all over again.
I hear footsteps coming toward me, and look up to find Finley staring over at me before heading in my direction. I let out a deep breath and wipe away the still falling tears. “I can’t deal with you today, Finley. Please.”
My voice cracks on the last word, and he hesitates as if he’s fighting an internal battle of his own. He shakes his head and finishes stomping over to me, dropping down beside me in the sand. He doesn’t say a word. Instead sits, staring out over the water with me while I try to stop the flow of tears.
Another wave of grief crashes over me, and my shoulders shake as I struggle to control the sobs. I hate being this weak, especially with him here. This is the second time he’s seen me lose it.
“Fuck it,” he growls, standing and lifting me out of the sand. He sits with me in his lap and holds me. I don’t want to be here, but I’d be lying if I said being in his arms didn’t make me feel less alone. So I allow myself the weakness of leaning into him once more, vowing that this will be the last time.
But for now, I let myself crumble as I mourn losing my dad all over again.
By the time I lift my head, darkness has blanketed us, and the moon in the sky is the only source of light. My heart feels empty and broken, but I push myself out of Finley’s arms and stand.
“Octavia,” he starts, and I glare down at him.
“Did you make that video?” I don’t have to say anything else or even wait for his response. His guilt’s written all over his face.
He stands, brushing himself off, the wet patch on his white t-shirt obvious despite the dark night. “Let me explain.”
“There isn’t anything to explain,” I hiss. “You don’t get to keep comforting me when you have no issues with making me cry. I am not a toy you can pick up and put down.”
“Please—” he starts, and I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
“No. Thank you, for this, but no. This doesn’t make up for anything else, Finley. We were friends once, and I have no idea what I did to incur your wrath so badly that you’d do something as horrific as you did.” His face falls, and he looks as defeated as I feel.
“I…” he starts but trails off, shaking his head. He puts his hands in his pockets, that stoic, passive glare back in place. “You’re right. We were friends once, and we’re not anymore. This was a mistake.”
He walks away from me without another word, leaving me speechless.
How the fuck did he cut me and make me bleed with only his words when I thought I was already broken beyond repair?
* * *
Mondays fucking suck. After last night at the beach, I decided to skip my run today. I had to talk myself into it, but I decided to swim laps instead. Swimming a mile isn’t too hard. I used to be able to do it in forty minutes, but it’s been a minute since I swam.
I’m about halfway through my mile when I spot a shadow at the end of the pool. I finish my lap and come up for air to see who it is. I take a deep breath and lift my hands to wipe the water from my eyes, but I find myself plunged back under the water. A hand grips my hair, keeping me beneath the surface. Panic sets in.