Loch is on the beach. The fisherman-knit aran sweater has been taken off the shelf and put on over his flannel shirt and waffle-weave long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair is tied back loosely, errant pieces too short or too stubborn to be coralled by a leather cord make for a halo of red around his face in the wind. His jeans are dark blue and wet up to the knees with saltwater and he is threatening to swim if I don't tell him exactly what's on my mind.
Only it's too cold to swim and he is doing this to prove a point. The point is that I am so desensitized, inappropriate and jaded that it takes these big dramatic moments to get me to move on something. That I am all or nothing now. That I used to be content with the smallest of gestures and now I want it all.
No, you're wro-
Am I though? He scoops up water with both hands and sprays me.
Stop it.
Tell me I'm wrong again. He's ready to soak me, too. Only I am holding our phones, my keys that were in the pocket of my dress from earlier and the lantern that was left the other night that we forgot. It needs more fuel so I'll bring it up, at least and then it's ready for the next twilight trip.
I drop everything to the sand and put my hands on my hips. You're....WRONG.
I close my eyes waiting for the impending soaking. It takes four seconds and I am drenched and frozen, gasping for air as he continues to scoop water at me as fast as he can. The one fun thing about Lochlan is that he never ever bluffs, and I will never fail to call him on one. So I'll have to program a new keyfob and we'll have to rinse our phones in distilled water and hope for the best. The lantern can take it, much like the girl.
He wades back in to me almost in slow motion and takes me into his arms, soaked or not. How am I wrong?
This. This is everything.
Following a Big Gesture, you mean.
Nope. You didn't need to do that, Locket.
Wish you'd told me that before I wrecked my phone.
I feel like we should just buy them in bulk.
So why did you say he was there?
Because he is there.
Don't scare me, Bridget.
You said if I don't tell you it's worse.
I'm sorry I said that, right now at least. How long has he been there, again?
Eleven years.
Jesus, Peanut.