Someone Else's Ocean

by Kate Stewart

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I was up late last night.”

  She slapped the top of my computer screen. “Look at me.”

  Gazing up at her, I did my best to keep my chin from wobbling.

  “Do I look upset?”

  “No, well I really can’t tell, you look kind of scary right now.”

  “That’s because I’m mad at you for thinking I would be upset. You’ve held my hand for the last year and a half.”

  “I just want to stop missing him. God, just one day, I want this to go away. I don’t know how you handled it.”

  “Not well, remember, I had sex in a backhoe?”

  “That’s not even funny now. But I’m glad you’re happy with Toby.”

  “Don’t send out wedding invites yet, we’re taking things so slow, sometimes I think we’re just friends.”

  “You still haven’t had sex with Toby?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even asked her for an update, what was even odder was that she hadn’t offered one.

  “Nope. I’m holding out. You and Ian were an amazing influence on me. And Julian is still calling.”

  “Really? Julian, huh? Well don’t use me as an influence, look at me now. And your corn-fed man was the one that told me Ian would dump me no matter what. I don’t know if I’m his biggest fan.”

  She tied her hair up before pouring some coffee. “Julian is brutally honest. Sometimes it gets on my nerves, but mostly I love it. And you need to call Ian. I think half of the problem is you’re still hoping he’ll come back or you’ll get back together. And that’s what’s eating you alive. You need some sort of closure.”

  “I think the fact that I haven’t heard a word from him is closure enough. What if he’s moved on and I end up embarrassing myself?”

  She pulled her roller chair over and took a seat next to me. “Then you know, and you get to move on too.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  Her eyes watered in sympathy, which only made me feel more pathetic. “I know baby, and it’s killing me to see you hurt, but you’ve got to do something. Tell him how you feel. Are you still glad you took the chance?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Then take one more. Call him and see how that goes.”

  “And if it’s really over?”

  “Then you won’t be alone. I’ll be here, and you can start sharing your new war stories.”

  “This is the worst.”

  “I know.” She leaned in to hug me. “You can do this, Koti, you are so much braver than you will ever know. Every chance you take shows how much you’ve grown.”

  “God, I love you. I know this is strange, but I’m so glad I had a panic attack in that Mexican restaurant. What if you hadn’t found me in that corner? I hate to think we wouldn’t have met.”

  “I think life would have made sure we found a way.”

  “You think so?” I sniffed as she pulled away

  “I’m sure of it. I’ll always be your Mexican.”

  Three months of agony because I made the same decision I did fifteen years ago. It would always be my daughter, DNA or none, she was mine. I was taught early that blood didn’t matter. My adopted brother was black, and when we got him, I was old enough to know better than ask questions about why he was different. My parents were careful with me the first few months, going out of their way to coddle me when we adopted him. I was never upset, in fact, that extra attention irritated me. Adam was the one who felt the most anguish, growing up in a home where he constantly felt the difference.

  Blood didn’t matter, skin nor eye color, or native tongue. What mattered was what that person meant to you. If my ex-wife had charged her sperm donor with the task of raising Ella, I would’ve been free to be whatever I wanted, I would’ve known that Tara was a liar and a cheat, and I would’ve had my choice of lives. But that wasn’t what happened, and at the end of my selfish tirade, I found myself grateful for her deceit. It made me Ella’s daddy.

  And so, while I’ve never fathered a child, I was a father, a daddy, a dad, and on most days, she deemed me an asshole. My range of titles stemmed from trusting the one thing in the world I know to be true for so long, and it was the one thing that could never be taken away from me.

  Hurt or not, I was never going to let that happen.

  And then I think of Koti and our summer by the sea and how that was the life I wanted. With her. I didn’t want to be waiting in the wings while my daughter lived her life. I wanted to be with the woman whose smiles lit up my soul, whose voice soothed the bullshit, whose heart was made of flesh and gold. I wanted to whisper to her that I love her every night before she drifted to sleep. To be her comfort when she got nervous. I wanted to ease her mind and make her laugh, make her come, make her mine. But that was the selfish part of me who still brimmed with anger about a life I didn’t get to choose.

  The father I am says there is no choice. That man remembers the chubby hands reaching for him along with the alligator tears. He remembers the first muddled sounds she made that were solely for him. She needed me and I needed her. Ella would always be my purpose in life.

  The ache will eventually recede. I’ll find a woman to keep my bed warm. And Koti would—

  I cut myself off mid-thought. It shouldn’t hurt this fucking much.

  We hadn’t spoken. Nothing to say. What can we say? I made my choice. She doesn’t want to leave her life and my job as a father binds me to where I need to be. It was never supposed to start, and it was never going to last. We both knew it.

  Doesn’t matter you’re in ashes, you love her, you miss her.

  My throat burned with emotion as I tipped my coffee and stared at the green expanse of my new backyard. It wasn’t the view I wanted.

  She has my view and soon enough someone else will have my ocean.

  My phone buzzed on the counter and I ignored it, sure it was my mother. Thinking better of it, I caught it just before it stopped.

  “Hello,” I said, looking at the screen and freezing when I saw her name.

  “I love you,” she whispered softly. “Ian, I love you.”

  I closed my eyes. I could hear the waves crash. I imagined her on her hammock staring at her toes.

  “I should have said it when you were here. I would give anything to see your face right now, to see if it even matters to you.”

  My heart sank. “Of course it matters.”

  “I hate this. I hate it here without you.”

  “I’m in hell,” I said my voice sandpaper. “I won’t put on a brave front to spare you.”

  “Have you ever?” I could hear her smile, but it was solemn. “I don’t want to leave, Ian. You know I’ve accepted my limits. I don’t want to throw all this work away. I won’t be the woman you love. I would never ask you to leave Ella, I just want you to know how not okay I am. Because I miss you and even though I was supposed to let you go, I can’t.”

  “I’m not okay either.”

  “This is horrible.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Can you… will you come ho… back?”

  “If I come back, we start this all over again when I leave. I don’t think I can handle it twice.”

  She sobbed quietly as my heart shattered along with my coffee cup against my kitchen wall.

  She sniffed as I wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry I called you. I’m so sorry. It was selfish.”

  “I still can’t regret it. You are the true love of my life. You should know that.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. It took her minutes of silence to speak again.

  “I’ll be here, okay. I’ll be here, Ian. I’ll wait as long as you need me to. I’m being selfish so I can pay for it that way. If I wait for you, will you come?”

  “Koti, don’t waste your life on love’s obligations. Things may change for you.”

  “Do you think you will still love me?”

  “I know I will, I’ll never stop loving you.”

  “Then I’ll wait.”
>
  “I can’t ask you for that.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Koti, this is ridiculous. You’ve wasted enough time.”

  “The stars are back, Ian, because of you, they’re back. I don’t see them the same way. Do you still want to be here?”

  “More than anything.”

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  “No. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Why? Why is it so ridiculous? I waited my whole life for you. I can wait a little longer. If you feel the same, ask me to wait.”

  “No. I could never ask that of you.”

  “Ask me.”

  I fought the words on the tip on my tongue. “No.”

  “Please ask me,” she sobbed. “You said you loved me.”

  “I do. More than I ever thought possible. But this is a foolish notion. It’s your heartache speaking. I love you, I do and that’s why I refuse to let you do this.”

  “It’s not foolish to me.”

  I sighed. “You’re still so young. We’re talking years, I won’t be able to come to the island often, and you won’t leave.”

  “For you, I would try.”

  “Then come now. Right now. I can’t leave, I have to teach. Be with me.”

  “Ian.”

  “Right. That’s what I thought.”

  “You know how hard it is for me.”

  “That’s why I’m not begging you to do something you aren’t capable of.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I won’t ask you.”

  Silence. And it might as well have meant death.

  “Koti, please don’t take it the wrong way. You have to understand, I put my life on hold for so long. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do the same for me.”

  “How am I supposed to take it? You’re telling me to let you go when I’m telling you I’ll wait. Because I think you’re worth it. I guess I’m alone in that too.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “You’ve said enough. Goodbye, Ian.” Her voice broke as did our connection.

  “Koti!”

  I hit redial and got her voicemail.

  After several tries, I left my first message.

  “Answer the phone!”

  And then rang her again.

  “Koti, I can’t ask you. Don’t put me in this position please.”

  And the day after.

  “I’ve never been so fucking miserable. Please just try to understand.”

  And the day after that.

  “You’re being childish.”

  And the day after.

  “If I were there, your ass would be purple. God, but I’m not there and I’m dying to purple your ass. I miss you so much. I can’t come to you now just to leave you. Please believe me, I have no choice. You might not understand it, but I do, and I know in my heart asking you to wait is wrong. I won’t bother you again… but please call me back.”

  Trailing my fingers down the piano keys, I tried in vain to keep the tears from surfacing. Before he left and after our signing lesson, he’d played for me daily while I lit candles and uncorked some wine. We’d taken great care of our bubble before it burst. Disco came running at the sound and when she realized it was me, she resumed the wait of her master in front of the screen door.

  “Come on, baby girl, please,” I begged as I sat with her on the floor. Her missing him kept her alert. Any sound other than the noise inside the house had her scrambling for the door. Even after months away from him, her loyalty and unyielding love hadn’t faltered a single day.

  “I know how you feel, but we have to get our shit together. Hey… who want’s bacon?”

  She didn’t move, and I was out of cards to play. That morning it seemed she was suffering the worst of it as if the realization struck he was never coming back. I started my mourning the minute he left the driveway. My days spent wiping away tears every time I woke up and realized he wasn’t there to share a smile with and the fact that I would never again wake up to see his.

  The devastation remained as the weeks passed and I couldn’t bring myself to call him back. I was at my breaking point. A mental list full of my new hopes weaved between my racing thoughts and the irony was, those hopes for my future all included him. There was no one else I wanted to share my life with. He was never coming back for me—for us—and I agreed to the heartbreak. I’d allowed it in.

  Ian was it for me. And he was gone in every sense of the word.

  We agreed on a clean break, but I never agreed to stop loving him because that would be too much to ask of a woman who was finally using her heart for something other than pumping blood through a string of years filled with anxious days.

  Though I knew I loved him before he left, I didn’t realize how deep it ran. I didn’t realize the extent of my love or how hard I would love him, or how much it would break me to lose his daily affection. I didn’t realize how his presence would linger in my house or how I would forever sleep on the opposite side of the bed waiting for him to return to his side.

  My love hadn’t faded, my tears weren’t anything more than fresh reminders on recycle. The pain of losing him wasn’t lessening as the days and weeks passed, my insides only grew heavier with ache.

  His presence and our relationship had restored my faith in the possibility of a different life other than just managing my disorder. His absence took that faith away when he left me with nothing but a house full of memories and days filled with longing. We’d only had a few months to love each other, but that love would have to be enough to last my lifetime. I understood Jasmine and her hesitance to move on. I understood her stubborn heart and crumbling morals. I understood the unending pain and the scars love could leave.

  I finally understood, and I fucking hated it.

  I grieved him with every breath.

  “So, this is what a broken heart feels like, huh, girl?”

  Disco began to cry again, the same sorrowful whimper that started months ago as I pulled her into my arms and cried with her. For a moment in time, I lived in a dream with a man who could read my thoughts, whose attention took me to unbelievable heights, whose touch set me on fire and filled me with hope. I had the love of a good man, the best of love stories.

  I found the one person in the world who understood me and loved me wholly as I was.

  Love stories aren’t always perfect. They can wreak havoc on the heart and distort the soul. I’d gotten lost in love and found the reality at the end of it where I lived in the truth.

  Not all love stories come with happy endings.

  Two Months later

  I SAT ELLA’S COCOA DOWN on the wiry table at the park and took a sip of my coffee as she fed the birds the rest of her croissant. Once seated, she took a sip and commanded my attention with lifted hands.

  Dad, you’re still sad.

  I’m fine.

  You’re lying.

  I’m okay. How is school?

  Please go. I’ll be okay. I miss her too.

  I put up my hands and she covered them with hers.

  “Dad,” she said. When it was just the two of us, she saved her voice for when she wanted to make her point. “You were happy with her.”

  Her speech was close to perfect. Her structure still lacked a little, but I’d never been a prouder father. Her voice was a gift, as was she.

  “You sound beautiful,” I said as she read my lips.

  “I do not. I won’t ever sound good. But one day a man will love me like you love her. Do you want me to be without that man?”

  I lifted my hands. No.

  “Talk,” she commanded.

  “No, I want you to have love.”

  “And I want that for you. This is not the time to give up.” She swallowed and looked around us still a bit self-conscious from talking in public. “I’m going to the Washington program soon. You don’t need to be here anymore.”

  I shook my head as she stomped her foot on the pavement. “Listen to me!
”

  She was loud, but I didn’t flinch. She was showing me what was in her heart.

  “You are a good dad. But I’m growing up to be a woman.”

  That time I couldn’t help but laugh at the ironic tantrum.

  I took a sip of my coffee. “And I haven’t missed any of it and I don’t intend to.”

  “You get on my nerves,” she huffed.

  “That’s not nice.”

  “I don’t want to be nice. You need to go. Mom is here if I need her.”

  “Good for her.”

  I still wasn’t speaking to my ex-wife. I wasn’t sure if I ever would. Daniel had buckled under the pressure of her expectations in their first few months of dating and left Tara holding the bag, especially when she told him Ella was his. I’d been spared a custody battle and because he was the piece of shit he was, Ella had been spared too. I got no satisfaction from any of it aside from the fact that my daughter didn’t have to deal with the heartbreak I had.

  Ella lifted her chin in defiance. “Go to her.”

  “No.”

  “What if Koti loves someone else now?” The burn in my chest scattered, singeing every part of me as Ella pulled an envelope out of her purse. Inside was a small square picture of Koti. Pain radiated through me as I fixated on the perfection of her face. Had she moved on? Everything inside me ached at the thought and at the same time, it was exactly what I’d asked her to do. The picture had been taken a month ago and if her smile was any indication of her progress, she was in far better shape than me.

  “She writes to me all the time. She loves me. She loves you. This is the good love you said you wanted me to know about. The kind you and Mom didn’t have. Dad, listen to me.”

  I choked on the lump in my throat. “I’m listening, baby. I promise.”

  “Good.” Tears sprung up as her passion flew out of her mouth. “I won’t let you keep me from that love.”

  “I understand, but this is different.”

  “No. I’m almost a woman!” She seemed more intent than ever on making that clear.

  “There are plenty of things you aren’t old enough for.”

  She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Dad. Go to her before it’s too late.”