by J. Saman
“Hmm. Well, I don’t know how safe the beach is at night here. I don’t really feel like getting mugged or having to run for my life in a mini dress and five-inch heels.”
“Good point. The club then?”
I reach for my wine glass and take a sip, mulling it over. “Nah. I’m not really feeling clubby tonight. What if we just went to a bar or something?”
“Sure. I’m up for that. Besides, we have a long drive tomorrow.”
I nod. “True. Where are we stopping anyway? We never did decide.”
“No.” He leans in to kiss my head before taking my hand and kissing my fingers. Did I mention how he can’t keep his hands off me? “We haven’t. What are you thinking? Do you want to go up the Pacific Coast Highway towards Big Sur and Carmel, and see how far we get before we want to stop?”
I shrug. “Sure. That sounds like a plan. But we should probably leave on the earlier side then. That’s more than a six-hour drive, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Our food arrives and we eat, chatting about the various places we’d like to stop along the way. We decide to spend two nights in San Francisco because neither of us has ever been, and two nights in Redwood National Park because I want to hike and explore and even camp—gulp. Then it’s a long haul up to Portland, and after that, Seattle—another gulp. Both of us turn inward after that realization.
Yes, we knew this trip was eventually going to end.
But the question lingers in the air, unspoken between us.
Then what?
I don’t know. I really freaking don’t. Part of me wants to ask Ryan if he wants me to stay on. But a slightly larger part tells me that is a bad idea. Not because of him, but because I’m not ready. I don’t want to just grab onto someone and not formulate any sort of life for myself. I want to stand on my own two feet for a while. Find my bearings and see where and how I end up.
That was always my plan.
Then Ryan came along and now I find myself rethinking things I shouldn’t.
Do I want him? Without a doubt. Am I in love with him? I’m not going there. I like him. A lot even, but that’s as far as I’m allowing my brain to go. The thought of loving another man feels…well, it just feels wrong. I know it’s not. I know it would be a good thing, a healthy thing, but that idea kills me.
How can I love another man when I still love Eric?
And isn’t that betraying his memory just a little bit?
I always thought of Eric as the love of my life, so what would that mean for the next guy? Will they always be in second place? That’s not exactly fair, and I don’t want Ryan to ever be second. He deserves to be first all the way, and I don’t know if I can give him that—at least not right now.
Here’s the kicker though, last night before I fell asleep in his arms, I imagined what our life together could look like. Would our children be dark or blonde? Blue- or green-eyed? Tall or short? Would he want boys or girls? Does he even envision a wife and family?
It’s hard to go from having a family to not, but the idea of never having any more children is a bit more than I can handle.
Having Maggie was the best thing I ever did. She was the light of my life. The love of my life. My entire world. I miss her desperately. Every day I wonder what she’d be like if she was still alive. What new and exciting things would come into her world.
I want that again. Not this minute, but eventually.
And I can see myself doing that with Ryan.
Probably because he’s the first guy I’ve been with since Eric. Yeah, that must be it. I’m sure I’d be doing the same thing with any guy I was…whatever the hell it is I’m doing with Ryan.
We leave the restaurant hand in hand, after I finally convinced him to let me pay. That was an argument. Stubborn man.
We end up walking two blocks down and then find a small but nice-looking bar. I order another glass of red wine. If we’re waking up early tomorrow and driving a million miles, the last thing I want to be is hungover. Ryan is feeling me on this because he orders a beer instead of his usual whiskey.
We get back to the hotel early and true to his word, Ryan does tie me up and spank my ass. It’s a first for me and I have to admit, I am totally into it. It’s not something I want to do every day, or even go beyond his hand, but it’s hot and fun.
He passes out quickly after our nightly workout, and just as I’m about to fall asleep, I feel it. The crazy sense that everything is the way it’s supposed to be.
But instead of filling me with comfort, it makes me uneasy.
Our alarm goes off at eight, and after hitting up the gym, we shower, pack up our stuff and get on the road. The Pacific Coast Highway is everything you read about. Gorgeous, unparalleled views of the Pacific Ocean, and windy, scary-as-hell roads along cliffs with nothing between you and the edge but an occasional guardrail. I let Ryan drive for that part because I’m far too distracted and nervous to do it myself.
We have all the windows down. and are blasting music and having the best time when we stop for lunch in Santa Barbara. We grab sandwiches and take them to the beach for a picnic, sinking down into the sun-warmed sand. It’s only in the low seventies with a good breeze on us, but I’m comfortable in my jeans and t-shirt.
We sit in silence, just watching the Pacific crash onto the shore and a few surfers having at it in the waves. It’s beautiful here. Palm trees and sunshine. Could I live in this type of world? Maybe? Being able to go to the beach every day certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“I know we’re not really talking about the end of this trip,” Ryan’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. “But if I haven’t mentioned it, I’m having the time of my life.”
I turn to him and smile brightly. “Me too. It’s been the best.”
“You like it out here? Don’t you?” he asks, trying to sound light but not really managing it. His eyes are fixed out on the ocean.
“I do, actually. I think I may add it to my short list, but I don’t know if I’m really a California girl,” I laugh. “Despite having the hair for it.”
“Well, we still have a few more places to visit. Maybe you’ll find something further north that you like better.”
Yeah, like Seattle, I don’t say. “True,” I offer instead. But I think we both know what we’re not saying.
Taking a small stroll along the beach and going through the town of Santa Barbara, we get back on the road. After almost another five hours of driving, we’re both fried. We’re somewhere near Big Sur. It’s almost seven in the evening and the sun has just set over the Pacific, which we had stopped to watch.
Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Sunrises are still my favorite, but damn…there is just something to be said about watching the sun set over the ocean. We find a local grocery store and get a few things before getting back into the car and parking on a secluded bluff by the ocean.
“Are we going to look for a hotel or something?” I ask through a yawn.
A shrug. We’ve been on the road way too long today. “I don’t think I can drive anymore, Katie. I’m tempted to sleep right here.”
“I would normally say yes to that, but you’re a tall dude and I’m afraid it won’t be very comfortable for you.”
“What if we move our suitcases to the front seats and lay the back seats flat?”
“You’re serious?” I look over at him with scrunched up eyebrows.
“Yeah,” he says through a chuckle. “I can barely move. Are you okay with that?” I look around us, but it’s getting pretty dark outside and there isn’t much to see. “No one is around,” he adds like that will sell me on this idea.
“What if someone comes though?”
“We’ll lock the doors. Besides, the only person who would ever come up here would be a cop.”
“It’s going to get really cold.”
He takes my hand, kissing my knuckles. “We have that blank
et you bought outside of Dallas, and I’ll hold you all night.” He makes a pretty good argument. “Come on, Katie, where’s your sense of adventure?”
I laugh. “Fine. You got me. I’ll help you move the bags to the front.”
We turn on the flashlight apps in our phones and get to work. With the seats folded flat, the back is actually rather spacious, at least for someone my size.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s in those boxes?” Ryan nods his head to the two small boxes I have that are tucked in the well behind the front seats.
“Things I couldn’t part with. Photo albums, Maggie’s stuffed bunny, her hospital blanket, Eric’s Boston College hat, his wedding band. Stuff like that.”
Ryan’s eyes are wide and he blinks at me a few times. I crawl into the wide open back and cover myself with the blanket, because now that the sun has set, it is getting rather chilly. Ryan follows, wrapping his arms around me and spooning me from behind.
“Can I see some of the pictures, or is that too painful?”
I look into his eyes in the extremely dim lighting, all I can make out are shadows. I haven’t looked at pictures of them in a long, long time. Not since right after the crash, and then it just got to be too hard.
But now?
I swallow hard and say, “I’d like that.”
Leaning forward over the edge of the seat, I flip open one of the tabs of the box that I know holds my rather large photo album. Most people only have digital photos, but I like the real thing, so I was always having pictures printed out and set into this book.
Crawling back over towards Ryan with the very heavy book, I set it down, angling my body so that it’s in front of me on the bed we’ve created. Ryan is still behind me, but since he’s so much bigger than I am, he won’t have any trouble seeing. I flip on my flashlight again and set it in such a way so that the pages are illuminated.
The first picture is of Eric and I.
We were fourteen smiling with mouths full of braces and his arm around my shoulder. I don’t know why we didn’t have any pictures of us before that, but this is where our photo story begins. Ryan is silent as I flip the pages, through high school graduation, college, and even our vacation to Cape Cod.
The next page is of our wedding.
These are pictures people took of us, not our professional ones. I always liked these ones better for some reason. They seemed more real. More like us.
“You were a beautiful bride, Katie,” Ryan whispers, his voice full of emotion. I have no idea what’s going through his mind. He’s been very quiet, but I’m actually okay with that.
I don’t think words are needed right now.
More pictures of Eric and I dancing, laughing, kissing, and cutting the cake. Then into our honeymoon.
“Where is this?” he asks, brushing his fingers over a picture of a waterfall.
“Hawaii. We went for ten days on our honeymoon.”
He nods his head against mine, but that’s it. Then I flip the page and I gasp. I can’t help it.
It’s one of my favorite pictures.
It’s me with bright red cheeks, laughing as Eric is squatting in front of me, pointing animatedly at my then flat belly with the world’s biggest smile lighting up his face. It was the day we found out we were pregnant with Maggie, and I swear I had never seen him as happy as he was in that moment.
I feel the tears running down my cheeks before I can even try and stop them. No point I realize, since I’m sure more are to come. But I also realize it feels good to cry through this. To see these moments in time and remember the pure joy we both felt.
We were so happy, and for the first time, I’m not so sad about that.
I’m frozen on this picture so Ryan turns the page for me, and I’m hit with an image of my rather large belly with Eric’s hands cupping it tenderly, lips pressed to the swell, his eyes closed.
“That’s an incredible picture,” Ryan whispers, and all I can do is nod. I miss him. I miss him so much. He wasn’t just my husband, but he was also my best friend, and sometimes I miss that the most.
Then comes Maggie and that first picture of her on my chest in the hospital wrenches a sob from me.
“Katie, we can stop if you want. I don’t want to make this hard for you.”
I shake my head, but can’t formulate words. I’ll lose it if I try and speak. More images of Maggie. As a newborn, an infant, a toddler. Smiling, getting her first teeth and taking her first steps. Hugging and kissing.
There are lots of those.
Family pictures.
I can’t look anymore and end up burying my head into Ryan’s chest and letting go. Poor guy doesn’t deserve this, but he holds me tight, running his hand down my hair and kissing my head.
“She was so beautiful, Katie. A perfect blend of both of you. You were so very blessed.” The tears come harder at that, but I can’t help but agree.
I’m so tired of this grief, but I can’t seem to stop it either.
It’s so completely consuming that I feel it in my mind, body and soul. It’s everywhere, suffocating the life from me and I would do almost anything to get it to stop.
“How do I make this pain stop?” I’m gripping Ryan’s t-shirt with one hand, pulling it towards me like it has the answers I need. My other hand is clasped tightly around my pendant.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I would give anything in the world to make it go away. But think of this, love, if you had never known them, never had them in your life, never loved them as much as you do, you wouldn’t be hurting this way.”
My head snaps up to look at him, the illumination of the flashlight set across his face.
“Don’t you think all of these amazing memories, all that love you had with them, was worth it?”
I swallow, blinking away my tears.
“Would you give up everything you had to never hurt from their loss again?”
“No,” I say without any hesitation.
“Right. You wouldn’t.” His hand cups my jaw, his eyes burning into mine with profound meaning. “So instead of focusing on the hurt that will always be there, focus on the love. Focus on the amazing memories this book is filled with. The memories your heart is bursting with. Feel the comfort and wonder and fucking bliss you felt in these moments,” he kisses me deeply before brushing his lips across my cheeks, taking my tears away with his mouth. “Focus on the future, Katie. On all that you could have again if you let yourself.”
I know what he’s saying, what he’s offering, and maybe even asking.
I see it in his eyes.
God, the way he’s looking at me.
I really want to take that promise and never look back.
I reach up, grab his face and pull it down to mine. I kiss him with everything I’ve got—a world of hurt and anger, and passion and love.
We moan in unison, our mouths dancing together in a way that is as familiar as it is new. I’m pulling at his clothes frantically, trying to rip them from his body, which is easier said than done in the small confines of this car.
The second he’s about to slide inside me, something unspoken shifts between us and our frenzied pace slows to something much more intimate. Our eyes lock, mere inches from each other, our breath mingling.
His fingers intertwine with mine as he stretches them above my head and we become one. This is so different than anything we’ve done before. Every other time was sex—mutual pleasure, and sometimes pure, carnal fucking.
This is making love.
Something I haven’t experienced in years. Something I know is entirely new for Ryan. It’s intense and fiery, and so goddamn good. So heavenly perfect that I never want this connection to end.
His eyes sear into mine, before he buries his face in my neck and whispers something I cannot hear. When we both come, we do so together and then hold each other in silence, letting what just passed swim between us.
Chapter 21
Our room at the Ritz Carlton San Francisco is awesome. It’s huge, boasting a living room, dining room, large master bedroom with a gigantic bathroom, and views of the bay all the way out to Alcatraz. I shoot Claire a text telling her that I will be giving her a raise, and I get an emoji of a smiley face showing lots of teeth.
I also got an email from Luke stating that the software I wrote last spring is ready to go live.
It’s that holy shit moment.
The one where you realize that your life will never be the same again. It’s a weird dichotomy of emotions because on the one hand, I’m balls to the wall excited. On the other, I’m terrified. I’ve spent all my adult life living under the radar and this will thrust me into the limelight.
Thrust my company there too.
Katie is in the shower, so I call Luke while I have a moment.
“Motherfucker,” he answers on the third ring, and I roll my eyes, sitting on the couch. “We’re going to make Cisco security look like a pansy ass joke. Your lawyer says we’re good to go, and I’ve already sent out feelers. Guess who the first fucking call was from?”
“Who?” I have a guess already, but I know he’s in the moment, so no sense in ruining his story.
“The goddamn FBI, bro. And I am so tempted to tell them where to shove their shit after everything that went down at Caltech.”
True story: Luke went to Caltech and I went to MIT. Both schools have underground hacking rings that compete. Luke and I were in the “finals”, and our mission was to hack into a global banking company. Stupid? You bet. But hackers sort of live under the umbrella of no guts no glory, so that’s where we found ourselves. Luke got nailed by the FBI the same night he broke through the bank’s firewall and I didn’t. No idea how they didn’t see me—because I was in— but they didn’t. Luke had every opportunity to turn me in. He knew who I was, where I went to school, and even what my handle was. The guy never said a word, which was stupid really since he was a poor kid from Oklahoma attending Caltech on loans and whatever he earned doing side jobs. I had already sold a few apps and had more money than I needed. So I procured him a kickass legal team that got him off with six months’ parole and community service. We’ve been tight ever since.
