The morning is bracing, the walk exceedingly slippery, but I am here for my morning tour because it's the final one of this year.
So many lasts, to be followed by so many firsts. This is bittersweet.
Caleb keeps my hand tightly in his as we walk. I keep sliding off rocks and into knee-high holes. He keeps threatening to barge over heavy machinery and remove all of the rocks and driftwood from the beach. I remind him that there are no treasures to be found in clear sand. He shakes his head and resumes walking and I rush to keep up.
You need to take some time to seriously consider my offer, Princess.
My heart contracts and flexes out again when he uses that nickname. I can't do that. You didn't think this through and so you're only hurting yourself.
Bridget. I have information you need and yet it's important enough that the only way you will still be speaking to me after you learn it is if I am legally tied to you.
That bad, huh?
Pardon me?
Did you push Jacob? Did you murder Cole? I don't see how anything you have to reveal now would change anything. Who does it concern?
All of us.
My fingers are ice and my mouth is dry but my eyes have no problem welling up and giving me away. I don't want him to see that I'm upset or scared or angry. I want him to squirm and suffer wondering how I feel but I have no practice in this and I'm out of my league, over my head and soon to drown in his blue eyes, as usual. This is hard, when he becomes gentle and patient and slow.
This is hard.
Does it concern Jacob?
He looks out to sea and then nods ever so slightly. Had I followed his gaze I would have missed it.
My chin quivers but my voice holds. Then keep it to yourself.
