When Autumn Ends

by Beth Rinyu

  Sleep had found me within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, and then the dreams began.

  Nolan at the playground with his deep belly laughs as I pushed him on the baby swing. Darrah lying beside me after we’d just made love, both thoroughly spent, but each of us completely satisfied. Nolan crying in the distance as I swam out to reach him. His cries growing louder as I battled with the merciless sea, needing to get to him, but the harder I fought the more it pushed me away. My body was sore, but I wasn’t giving up as this unforgiving force of nature pummeled and pounded and Nolan’s screams became ear-piercing. “I’m right here, don’t cry, Nolan. I’m going to get you.”

  I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, opening my eyes to the darkness of my room. These dreams that plagued my sleep were becoming more and more real each time I closed my eyes. Once I was finally able to breathe at a normal pace I got out of bed, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, trying to plot his escape. I rummaged through my bag, frantically searching for my pills. Sticking my hand in the concealed pocket, I pulled out the bag of weed I’d tucked away instead. This would do the trick for the moment. I grabbed my papers and rolled a joint, then threw on some clothes and headed out the door. The temperature had dropped immensely, and dampness had set in. I picked up my pace to get my blood flowing and warm up a bit. When I reached the dark, desolate beach and took a seat in the sand, an unnerving calmness came over me. Here I was, all alone in the middle of the night, staring out at the beast who’d haunted my sleep. The wind was on my side for just a few moments as I lit up and took a hit, inhaling deeply and slowly. Just like in my dream the waves were pummeling the shoreline, but I could no longer hear his cries. He was gone, and there was nothing I could do to save him anymore. The clouds passed over the moon, shedding some light into the darkness, and then she appeared. Was I dreaming? Was this pot laced with something that made me hallucinate? No, it wasn’t Darrah walking along the ocean’s edge. I wouldn’t allow my mind to keep betraying me like this. I looked down at the teddy bear she was grasping in her hand as she lifted her arm to cast it into the sea. No, she couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t allow her to do that to Nolan’s most cherished possession. I put out the joint and placed it in my pocket, then sprinted through the sand, reaching her in seconds. Grabbing her from behind, I took the bear from her hand, but when I stared at the stuffed animal, it wasn’t Nolan’s, and when I looked at the girl, it wasn’t Darrah.

  Chapter 7

  Jenna

  “WHAT THE FUCK?” I SHOUTED, my heart beating out of my chest when I was nearly pummeled to the ground out of nowhere. Once I recovered and realized who was standing beside me, my anger intensified. “Are you fuckin’ psychotic or something?”

  He stared at me in silence, seeming just as unnerved as I was.

  “I-I…” he stuttered and gave me the bear back.

  I didn’t have time for his stupid games anymore. He was clearly a head case and the last thing I wanted to do was to be trapped alone on this beach with him in the middle of the night.

  “You want the damn teddy bear so much, be my guest and take it!” I shouted, throwing it into the sand.

  “Wait!” he shouted as I stormed off.

  I kept walking, moving a little faster than my normal pace, wanting to get as far away from this lunatic as possible. He grabbed my elbow when he caught up to me, spinning me around and forcing me to look at him. “Let go of me!” I pounded his chest, fighting with everything I had to break free.

  “Calm down!” he demanded.

  “No, I won’t! You stay away from me!” I backed away slowly when he released his grip.

  “I’m sorry. I thought—”

  “Yeah, I know. You thought I was someone else. Someone you clearly have issues with. Well, I’m not, okay? My name is Jenna Delaney, and until yesterday, I never even knew you existed, so please just leave me alone.” My voice cracked.

  My head was telling me to run as he cautiously inched his way toward me, but my legs wouldn’t allow it. I was frozen, unsure if it was from fear or intrigue that I was feeling over this handsome stranger. He was only inches away as he gazed down at me, moving my hair from my face, searching for someone in my eyes. I was no longer scared. Instead, I was filled with a rush of excitement. His eyes twinkled in the moonlight, becoming more emotional by the second when he grabbed the sides of my face and lowered his head to mine. I stilled myself, waiting and almost wanting to feel the touch of his lips on mine. What was happening to me? This guy was crazy. He thought I was someone else, and more importantly, I was engaged to someone else. But I was powerless to stop it. My mind, my heart, and my soul were captured by the mystery that surrounded him.

  “Why?” he pleaded in a torturous whisper with a lone teardrop rolling down his face.

  I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say or what to do. “I’m sorry, but I’m not who you think I am, so I can’t answer that question for you.” My tough demeanor from earlier was melting away.

  Then like someone being brought back from a hypnotic spell, he pulled away and gained his composure. Letting out a deep breath, he looked up at the sky and raked his hand through his hair that was blowing in the breeze. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m-I’m…I promise I won’t bother you again.”

  Oddly enough, I didn’t want to leave. I was yearning to know more about this man and the even more mysterious woman he kept mistaking me for. “You’re not a bother. Sometimes it helps to talk about it, even if it’s with someone you don’t know.”

  He nodded, but I still sensed some hesitation on his part.

  “Just so we don’t have a case of mistaken identity again, allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Jenna. I’m twenty-eight years old. I like anything pink. I prefer sapphires over diamonds. I have a strange fixation with dragons, but only the cute ones like in cartoons. My favorite smell is a fire burning on a cool crisp night. I love sunflowers and anything with peanut butter, and I may have just made the biggest mistake of my life by taking on more of a business venture than I can handle all while trying to plan a wedding that I’m dreading more and more with each passing day.”

  I stood in silence, waiting for him to offer up some information about himself—anything to keep the conversation going, but all he could manage was the vacant stare he’d set upon me. Feeling a bit foolish for putting myself out there, I forced a smile and headed back to the inn.

  “Why are you dreading it?” he shouted as I began to walk away.

  Stopping dead in my tracks, my heart screamed with triumph as I faced him. “I don’t know. Did you ever think you wanted something really bad and then once you finally get it, you realize it’s not what it’s all cracked up to be?” I shouted over the waves.

  He flashed a knowing smile, the first time out of all our encounters that I’d seen that expression adorn his face, and it looked beautiful on him. He took a few steps closer until we were inches apart once again. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it, even if it’s with someone you don’t know.” He grinned.

  I raised an eyebrow and grinned back. “Touché! But now you do know me. It’s me who doesn’t know you.”

  “I’m sure there’s more to you than your fixation with cute dragons, your love of sunflowers and peanut butter, and your bad business sense.”

  “Wow, when you put it that way, I do sound pretty pathetic, don’t I? You forgot runaway bride.”

  “Yeah, well, I figured I’d cut you some slack…for being such a douchebag to you before.”

  “So, do you have a name?” I asked, figuring I’d start with baby steps.

  “I do.”

  “Wow, you’re really literal, aren’t you?”

  He gazed at me as if he were looking into the deepest realm of my soul, parts I didn’t even know existed.

  “So, why don’t you share some of that stuff you were smoking and maybe I can guess your name.”

  Another smile stretched across his face even more beautiful than the last, causing my heart to l
eap from my chest. I shouldn’t have been feeling like this just by a mere facial expression of another man. I was engaged to be married to Brad in two months. But I’d just admitted to this stranger and myself that maybe this whole impending marriage was just as big of a mistake as the business venture I’d gotten myself into. We took a seat in the sand and he pulled a joint from his coat pocket. He battled with the wind to get it lit, surprised when I reached my hand out to give it a try. He raised an eyebrow over my ability in lighting it up with such ease. Taking a hit, I passed it back to him.

  “I see you’re experienced at this,” he remarked.

  I shrugged. “Back in the day, my sister and I would smoke all the time.”

  “Why’d you stop?” he asked like it was a bad thing.

  “I don’t know. I guess once I grew up a little, getting drunk was more fun than getting high.” The truth was, once I started dating Brad, I had to put any of my weed days behind me. He’d remind me every now and then that I was dating an attorney, so I was held to a higher standard and smoking weed was for teenagers and degenerates. Fuckin’ bullshit. As I took another hit and it started to kick in, I realized just how much I missed it. “I changed a lot when I met my fiancé.” My thoughts spilled out through my lips. “You know…he’s perfect, and I’m not. He has the perfect job. The perfect house. The perfect child.” I expelled a deep laugh after that last statement. “And I’m just a hot mess. A hot mess who wanted to keep my aunt and uncle’s home that held so many memories in our family. He told me I’m foolish and I’ll never be able to make it work,” I rambled. This stuff was like a truth serum to me.

  “Is that your aunt’s house? The one next door?”

  “Yup, that’s the money pit.” I sighed heavily and looked out at the ocean. “Christopher,” I blurted out.

  “Is that your fiancé’s name?”

  “No, silly, I’m trying to guess yours.”

  “Oh.” He shook his head. “Try again.”

  “Hmmm…” My index finger rested on the side of my cheek, trying to think of the perfect name for the gorgeous man sitting beside me. “Richard?”

  He crinkled his nose and shook his head once again. “Okay, here’s the deal. Every time you get it wrong you have to take a hit.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you trying to kill me or something?”

  He let out a slight chuckle. “I’ll give you some hints.” He was so much more relaxed than all the other times I’d encountered him. Too bad he couldn’t be high all the time. He was actually pretty cool under the influence.

  “Okay, what’s the first letter?”

  “E,” he responded.

  “E?” I wracked my brain, trying to come up with male names beginning with the letter E, but I was drawing a total blank.

  “Ten seconds,” he advised.

  “Hey, you didn’t say there was a time limit! Earl!” I shouted.

  “Earl?” He laughed and handed me the joint.

  I wasn’t quite sure how long the name game went on for, but after quite a few misses, I was toasted. My body was in such a state of relaxation, I didn’t want to move. “I’m hungry. I think I’m having a mirage of a giant chocolate bar. Do you see it too?” I asked, causing us both to spew with laughter.

  “I think you better get some sleep.” He stood up and reached for my hand.

  I got up on wobbly legs, and he grabbed my arm, helping me to balance. I stumbled as he guided me off the beach, happy to be out of the sand and on level ground. We crossed the main road and headed back to the inn in silence. The tree roots growing under the old, crooked sidewalks were like landmines. I did my best to maneuver my way around them, but it wasn’t an easy task with the dimly lit streets and the condition I was in. We were almost back to the inn when my foot got caught up in the bulging sidewalk and I went down, twisting my ankle in the process.

  “Ouch, damn it!” I cried.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, bending down next to me.

  “My ankle.”

  “I’m gonna help you up. See if you can put weight on it.”

  I wrapped my arm around his neck, and he carefully eased me to a standing position. It hurt like hell, but I moved forward, bearing most of my weight on him and my good ankle. After a few more steps, he must’ve sensed my discomfort as he effortlessly scooped me up into his big, muscular arms. I was just about to protest, but then remembered the pain I was in when I’d attempted to walk. We reached the front porch and he unlocked the door with ease.

  “What’s your room number?” he whispered, trying not to wake the other guests as we started up the stairs.

  “Seven.”

  He looked down at me in surprise, seemingly unaware that we were next-door neighbors. I reached in my pocket and handed him the key to my room. He flicked on the light as we entered and carried me over to the bed, wasting no time removing my shoe and sock to examine my ankle.

  “It’s pretty swollen. I’m gonna run downstairs and get you some ice.”

  “Oh, that’s not—” But before I could even put up a protest, he was gone. I took off my jacket and my other shoe, feeling like such a fool.

  “Here you go,” he announced as he entered the room with some ice wrapped in a towel.

  “I hate to ask this, but can you help me into the bathroom? I really have to pee.”

  He smiled and nodded as he led me into the bathroom, stopping at the dresser so I could grab my pajamas.

  “Sorry for taking so long!” I shouted through the door when I’d suddenly lost my ability to pee. I finally finished my business and tried my best to undress and redress into my pajamas, still high and on a sprained ankle. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “Are you okay in there?” he asked when I banged my head on the medicine cabinet.

  “Yes, almost done!” I shouted. “Okay, I’m finished.” I opened the door, and he rushed over to help me in bed. He grabbed the extra pillow from the other side of the bed and moved it under my ankle, gently placing the ice pack on top. “Thanks.” I sighed.

  “I snuck back down while you were in the bathroom and found this in the fridge for you.” He grabbed the plate containing the brownie from the dresser and walked it over to me.

  “Okay, I know this may be totally inappropriate, seeing how I don’t even know your name, but I love you right now!” I laughed and took a big bite from my brownie. I was happy to see the slow grin that spread across his face. “Wait, these aren’t pot brownies, are they?”

  “No!” He shook his head, letting out a full-fledged chuckle.

  “Well, thank you for almost knocking me on my ass, getting me high, carrying me back, and taking care of my chocolate fix. Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun.” He nodded and a cute boyish dimple etched into his right cheek.

  “Keep the ice on that ankle until you fall asleep. Once that swelling goes down, it should be feeling a lot better. Did you need anything else?” He moved closer to the door.

  “Just your name.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “I guess you earned it. It’s Ethan.”

  “Last name?” I grinned.

  “Banks.”

  “Well, it was very nice to meet you, Ethan Banks.”

  “Yeah. You too. Have a good sleep.” He closed the door behind him and I adjusted my pillow, trying to get comfortable.

  My mind was finally settling down and my endless thoughts faded, lulling me into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Ethan

  I MANAGED A FEW HOURS OF sleep before heading out to the marina. I went over the events of just a few hours ago in my mind. It was strange to say the very least. I hadn’t talked or, more importantly, listened to anyone in a long time—if ever. I was always too consumed with myself, my books, and fame. That was the biggest issue between Darrah and me. She said I never seemed to care about what was going on in her life. I was too wrapped up with my work. I refused to see it until it was too late. But sitting on the beach with the brunette kind of helped me pu
t things in perspective and exercise a little empathy for someone else besides the characters in my books. Maybe if I’d learned to do that a while ago, he’d still be here with me now. Oddly enough, I enjoyed the brunette’s company. She was funny, smart, and pretty nice to look at. Did I see myself forging a friendship with her? Not at all. She was just someone to pass the time and share a joint with. She clearly had a lot of issues of her own that she needed to work through.

  As I pulled into the parking lot of the marina, taking in the array of boats, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going through her mind that day that led her to this. Maybe I wasn’t the perfect husband, and maybe our marriage did need some work, but I never expected our problems to lead to the hell I was living in today.

  “Beautiful car,” a younger guy in a group of older men remarked as I exited.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  A year ago, this car was my pride and joy. Now, I saw it for what it was, a material possession that could be replaced at any time. Sad how it took something so tragic to help put things into perspective. I walked down the dock, stopping at the classic Catalina 30’ monohull sailboat with the name Angel Eyes displayed across the side. Sailing was always Darrah’s passion. She grew up in Cape Cod and learned to sail at an early age. I was never big into boats, but she coerced me into sharing her passion, teaching me everything I needed to know about sailing as well. When we first started dating, and I actually afforded her some of my time. We would spend every summer weekend on the Long Island Sound. We were happy then. Before the New York Times bestseller list, before the movie deals, back when Jonathan Reed was just another struggling writer, trying to find his way. She loved me back then, before I was anybody, and I took it for granted.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” the younger guy who’d complimented my car said, sneaking up behind me.

  “Yeah. She is.”

  “Do you sail?”