by Harlow Layne
“We’re down for that. Sometimes I feel bad for eating whatever I want while this guy here,” Lexie pointed at Ryder, “is always eating healthy so he can keep his physique. I won’t feel so bad if I have a partner in crime.”
“I really don’t mind. It’s so ingrained in me now that I’m not sure I could eat junk food if I tried.”
Lexie rolled her lips, but it still didn’t hide the grin that was trying to escape. “Do you see the drool at the corner of his mouth as he eyed our burgers? Don’t let him fool you. He wants it, but he sticks to his regimen unless he’s got a chunk of time off.”
“I admire your diet. I like to eat whatever I want whenever I want.” That was always why I had curves, and my stomach was not as flat as I wanted it.
“That’s why we’re going to be the best of friends. Before you leave, make sure I have your phone number. I’ll call you when we get back from Washington.”
“See, you’re already making friends. Now I won’t feel bad when I go out on the road next week.”
I turned wide-eyed to her. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving so soon.”
Pen’s face softened. “I’ll be back. It’s only for a couple of months.”
“Where are you going?”
“Small venues all around the US.” Pen went on to tell them how she worked Titan Records and the band she managed.
Lexie ate the last of her burger and moaned. “You make a mean burger, Dimples. If modeling doesn’t work out, you could be a chef.”
I couldn’t help myself from saying, “You two are so sweet together.”
“Hell, yeah, we are.” Ryder eyed his wife hungrily.
I yearned to have a man look at me like that someday.
Pen knocked me with her elbow. “I think it’s time we leave so the happy couple can be alone.”
I had a feeling Pen was right.
11
Remy
Before anyone was up, I spent the first thirty minutes of my day looking at all the pictures on Stella’s Instagram account. I’d been doing it since she left Seas the Day. I thought it might be difficult to find her, but it wasn’t. Zelda and Reagan had posted pictures constantly of their stay and tagged Stella in a few of them.
On her feed, I saw her writing space as she finished writing her book and her celebratory glass of Champagne. There hadn’t been much of her life in Oasis. Now all her pictures were of sunsets and the beach letting me know she was living the life she deserved.
There weren’t many pictures of her except on moving day with Penelope helping. Both of them looked exhausted but happy. The other was of both of them with a couple. The woman had blue hair that looked incredibly natural on her, at a restaurant smiling widely for the camera.
I wasn’t sure if Stella had read my letter, threw it away, or maybe she didn’t believe me. All I knew was she barely spared me a glance the day they departed.
Did she think of me like I did of her? There was something about her that I knew deep down in my bones I’d never find in another woman for as long as I lived. The feeling was unsettling but something I’d come to live with.
After going through all of her pictures and finding nothing new, I went to see how my buddy Tyler was doing. Even though I didn’t post on social media much—more like never—I had it to keep in touch as much as I was able to with the guys from my old unit.
Most of them were still enlisted except for the ones who hadn’t made it that fateful day. And me. I had gotten out at the first opportunity, unable to handle the guilt of living when my best friend in the entire world died in my arms, and I could do nothing about it. It didn’t matter that I knew somewhere deep inside my guilt that Damon’s injuries were fatal, and there was nothing I could have done. The fact that I could only hold him and assure him everything was going to be okay when I knew it wasn’t still ate at me.
Knowing that Damon left behind a woman who loved him more than anything, and she was pregnant with a child he’d never meet.
It should have been me. I had no one but my dad and Damon’s family, who all but adopted me as I grew up. I hadn’t seen any of them because I couldn’t face them, knowing they’d wonder why I hadn’t done more to save my best friend. Knowing they’d never understand the situation we’d been in or what it was like over there.
Instead, I locked it all away, and once every month or two, I’d check Tyler’s Instagram to see what he’d posted. Tyler had been there for me after Damon died. If it wasn’t for him checking on me constantly and making sure I ate, I wasn’t sure if I’d be where I was right now—or dead.
My vision glazed over at the flag on the latest post. It was a memorial postdated three weeks ago. It didn’t go into specifics, but it stated Tyler died while in Afghanistan and was laid to rest in his hometown of Macon, Georgia.
Guilt gnawed at my insides and climbed into the deep recesses of my mind conjuring images I’d tried hard to forget these last two years. Closing my eyes, I tried to shut out the sounds and images that haunted me. The sounds of explosions all around me, bullets whizzing by my head, and the smell of dirt embedded in my nose as I ducked for cover. I could hear my men yelling in the background, but I was rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak.
When a hand landed on my shoulder, I nearly decked the person who was touching me. It took several seconds for me to realize I was on a boat in the Balearic Sea and not in the Middle East.
“Fuck, dude, you need to lay off the coffee,” Scout quipped as he ducked away from my fist.
“Yeah.” I gave a shaky laugh, trying to play it off. “I’ve had one too many cups this morning.” I tried to smile over at him while he poured his own cup of coffee and knew I failed when the corners of his mouth tipped down.
He took a step toward me but stopped when I held my hand up. “Don’t lie, man. Are you okay?”
Hanging my head, I picked at the skin around my fingernail as I spoke. “As good as I can be after finding out a friend of mine died.”
“Damn, is there anything I can do? Do you need—”
“I just need time.” I stopped him. “Once you and Owen have everything clean, your day is yours. I’m going to...go clear my head. I’ll let you know if I don’t plan on coming back tonight.”
“If you want company or to talk—”
“I won’t,” I interrupted again. The only person I wanted to talk to was Tyler, and that wasn’t going to happen ever again. “I appreciate the offer, but trust me when I say I need to be alone.”
Scout leaned over the table and laid a hand on my shoulder. “If that ever changes, I’m here for you.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. It’s not my first loss…” A lump formed in my throat, and it took a few seconds to swallow it down. “I doubt it will be my last.”
“Fuck, man, that’s got to be tough. Leave your radio here so no one will bother you.”
“Thanks. I’ll let the Captain know I won’t be around, and I’m leaving you in charge.”
Not wanting to see the worry etched on his face, I grabbed my cup of coffee and poured it out in the sink. Grabbing my wallet in my room, I got off the boat before I ran into anyone else. I clearly wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding my emotions and wasn’t sure I could keep my composure if I was questioned anymore on whether I was okay.
Not knowing where I was going, I walked through the city without seeing its usual beauty. Instead, all I saw was sand, mud houses, and buildings that had seen better days. The salty air was replaced with smoke and death.
My conscience screamed at me that if I had stayed, maybe Tyler would be alive today, joking while lying on his cot in a tent in the Register Desert instead of six feet under in Georgia.
It didn’t matter that I knew my mental health would have deteriorated with each passing minute. All that mattered at that moment was Tyler.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it had to have been hours when I found myself at a beach I’d never been to. Shucking off my shoes and socks, I p
laced them on the ground before I waded into the water. The cool water was refreshing after walking for hours. I stood there looking at miles and miles of water and concentrated on the light sound of the waves lapping at the shore. Reminding myself I was far away from the desert and war. It was both a relief and terrifying at the same time.
What was I doing with my life?
I’d been running from my problems for the last two years and knew I couldn’t keep doing it. I needed to face my family and Damon’s wife and tell them I was responsible for his death. I knew if I didn’t, I’d never be able to climb out of the hole I’d dug myself into.
While there was nothing I could do about Stephanie until the season was over, I could reach out to my dad. But damn, was I scared to make that particular phone call.
Since I didn’t have an international calling plan, I came up with a plan of action. I’d find a hotel with free Wi-Fi close to port, book a room, let Scout know where I was, and then call my dad.
Not surprisingly, my footsteps were slow as I walked back the way I came. Now that I was more aware of my surroundings, I was shocked I’d walked so far in a daze. Something so unlike me since I’d been trained to observe my surroundings.
I almost went to get a few things but decided against it. I’d be fine with what I had on me. All I needed was my wallet and phone. Once close to the water, I found a small hotel, Brismar, and booked a room. It wasn’t anything special, but it had everything I needed for the night.
Sitting out on the balcony and looking out at the sea, I messaged Scout.
Remy: I’m going to stay at a hotel tonight. It’s close to port, so I’ll be onboard bright and early to help with anything that needs to be done before guests arrive.
Scout: Everything is done. Seas the Day is sparkling more now than the day she hit the water.
Remy: Good to hear. Thanks for picking up my slack today.
Scout: You slack? Your slacking is us on our best days.
Scout: If you decide you don’t want to be alone, we could do dinner.
Remy: Thanks for offering, but I don’t think I’d be very good company tonight.
Scout: It’s not the point. If you want me to sit across from you and not talk, I’d be happy to do it.
Damn, he was a good friend. Better than I’d ever been to him.
Remy: If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.
Strangely, after contacting Scout, I felt better about attempting to call my dad. I wasn’t even sure if he’d accept my collect call since that was the only way I could get in touch with him. It didn’t matter. There were only two more months left of the season, and after it was over, I was headed back to the States where I’d stay. It was time for me to move on with my life. If I couldn’t get a hold of my dad tonight, he’d be my first pit stop when I got back home.
Hell, I didn’t know how to make a collect call anymore, especially internationally. I’d become dependent like everyone else on their cellphones. After a few trials and errors, the phone started to ring. It was softer than what I was used to, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the phone I was using in my room or if it was because of the distance I was calling.
I held my breath as I waited to see if anyone would pick up. What if he’d changed his number, and I was calling some stranger?
“Hello,” my dad’s voice answered. It sounded tired, and I wanted to slap myself for not thinking about the time difference.
My vision blurred as thick emotion lined my throat. I had to clear it a couple of times before I could speak.
“Dad?” My voice cracked.
“Remy?” he asked in disbelief. “Is that you, Son? Are you okay?”
I shook my head because I wasn’t okay—not even close to it after hearing the sound of his voice. It was music to my ears after not hearing it for so long.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m so sorry it’s been so long.” Tears ran down my face as I let it hang in shame.
“That’s okay, my boy. You’re calling me now, and that’s all that matters. Are you safe?”
“I’m safe,” I choked out. It amazed me he’d be worried about my safety when I hadn’t spoken to him in so long. Why hadn’t he given up on me like I’d given up on myself?
“Good. Where are you?” he asked quietly and then sniffed.
“I’m in Spain.”
“I always wanted to visit that way. What the hell are you doing there, though?”
His simple question opened the floodgates. Lying down on the bed, I cried for the first time in years. How had I been so wrong about my dad?
“I work as a bosun on a yacht people charter,” I tried to explain.
“Never heard of one.” He cleared his throat, and I knew the tough questions were coming next. As a child, I always hated it when my dad cleared his throat. I knew he’d squared his shoulders as he prepared to ask the question. “What happened, Son? Why’d you disappear?”
“Because I’m stupid. I thought...Damon died.”
“I know he did, Son. It was...is a terrible thing, but it still doesn’t explain why you disappeared. It was like I lost two sons at once.”
I’d never thought of it that way, but he might not feel the same once he found out what happened.
“I should have saved him, Dad. I should have—”
“And how would you have done that?”
“I...I could have been more diligent in searching my surroundings, kept my ears open to sounds, to—”
“Unless you pushed him in the way of the bullet or shot him yourself, I don’t see any way you could have known what was going to happen, let alone saved him and the other men.” His voice was no-nonsense as he gave me his truth.
“You weren’t there. You can’t know,” I croaked. The guilt was almost as all-consuming as the day was front and center.
“I know you loved Damon like he was your brother, and you’d never let anything happen to him if you had the choice. Remy, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself. Guilt will eat away at you until there’s nothing left but a hole so deep, you’ll never be able to fill it.”
He was right. I’d have done anything for Damon. Giving up my life for Damon to have his wasn’t too big of a price to pay.
“He died in my arms, and all I could say was that it would be okay. I knew it wouldn’t. Help wasn’t coming in time. There was so much blood. No matter how hard I pressed, it continued to ooze around my fingers. How could I have let that happen?”
“You didn’t let it happen, and it was most definitely not your fault, Remy. Have you talked to the other guys in your unit?”
I shook my head, unable to answer even though I knew he couldn’t see.
He let out a deep breath, and I closed my eyes. I would have given anything to be with my dad in that moment.
“Maybe you need to talk to someone. A counselor.”
I knew he was right. I did need to talk to someone, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever stop feeling guilty.
“You don’t hate me?”
“Remy,” he sobbed out. A short minute later, he spoke in a rough voice. “Boy, I could never hate you. Is that why you’ve stayed away? Why I haven’t heard from you?”
“I couldn’t face you.”
“Can you now?”
“I think so. I still have a couple of months to work, but once this season is over, I’m coming back if you’ll have me.” I was done running and hiding from my past.
“Of course, I’ll have you. Hell, I’ll throw you a ticker-tape parade.” There was a long pause before he said, “I wish you had called a long time ago. It would have eliminated the agony of the last two years.”
The pain I felt from losing Damon would always be there, but maybe if I had been around the people who loved him and went through the grieving process with them, it wouldn’t have felt so profound.
“I’ve missed you, boy. Thought about you every day and wondered where you were.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you.” I never wan
ted to cause my dad more pain.
“I know you didn’t, but it’s been hard not knowing where you were or how you were doing. After talking to you, I don’t think you were doing too good. I wish I’d been there to help you.”
“Me too, Dad. Me, too. My head’s been so lost in grief, I wasn’t thinking straight.” I closed my eyes and felt the tears run down my cheeks and into my ears. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Ones I’ll never be able to make up for.”
“You have nothing to make up for. I’m just happy you’re alive and safe. That’s all I could ask for. Never did I think you’d come back unscathed. Men never come back from war the same as when they left. All I want from you is for you to let go of your guilt and realize what I know.”
“What’s that?”
“That you did everything you possibly could to save Damon. I know you did. Just as I know, you’d do it for anyone around you. You’ve always had a heart of gold, wanting to help everyone around you, but the other side of that is you feel too much. Your heart feels so deeply. You have to know your own limitations because your life is just as important as everyone else.”
Hearing my dad say those words was hard to hear.
“You deserve to be happy, Son.”
He sniffed, and it broke my heart. How much suffering had he gone through because of me? I knew he worried about me when I was in the service, but I’d never thought about it once I was out. I’d been so selfish.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough for what I’ve put you through. I’m sorry, Dad. I really am.”
“I know you are, Son. Don’t worry about your old man. I’m resilient, but I worry about you. If you haven’t dealt with what happened…”
I hadn’t, and up until today, I hadn’t realized how much it had festered inside of me. I was thankful we didn’t have a charter full of guests because I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to handle today and my duties.
“I’m going to. I promise, but for now, I’ve got to keep my head on straight otherwise, my crew and the passengers could get hurt.”
