Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“What if it becomes too much? What if I can’t get out of the water?”
“Don’t worry,” Eric calmly stated. “You’ll grow gills.”
Don’t get over it. Get under it.
“I feel as if I’m not only grieving my mom but my dad, too, even though he’s still living,” I said.
“That’s the thing about grief. Sometimes, the worst cases of it are when it’s dealing with those who are still breathing. You’ll get through this. I hope you both do and end up with a stronger bond.”
“Thank you, Eric.”
“Let me make sure I’m getting everything straight. You’re figuring out your life, yet pushing Starlet away because you think it’s the right, noble thing to do.”
“I can’t be what she needs or what she deserves. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve her care for me or her love. I’m depressed.” Saying those two words almost made me choke. It was the first time I’d expressed the truth behind what I was dealing with. It was the first time I said it out loud. Something about hearing it vocalized from my own mouth felt raw.
“Yes,” he agreed. “You are. But let me ask you a question. Who told you that those who are depressed are not deserving of love?”
Me.
My mind.
My thoughts.
He tapped the side of his head. “Every thought that comes in here, young man, is not an honest one. Learn to filter out the bullshit, even if it’s loud. You deserve to be loved. The truth of the matter is we’re all a little broken. We’re all a little cracked. But those cracks are what make us who we are. And every shattered person is still worthy of love. Maybe even more so than others.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, don’t get me wrong. I find it noble that you stepped away from my daughter while you figure out your stuff and allowing her to figure out hers. You can’t pour from an empty glass, and while Starlet might not understand that right now, as she’s hurting, it’s the best choice for you both. But do one thing for me.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Hold onto your love for her and her love for you, even from a distance. Starlet’s love got me through my heartbreak from losing my wife. Her love is what saved me, even when I was sometimes distant. Use that love, that feeling, to help you through the currents of your grief. Then once you begin to swim again—and you will, Milo—swim home to her.”
“What if I’m too late?”
“That’s possible, but what if you’re right on time? That’s the scariest thing about life—it makes no promises. But do you know the most exciting thing about life?”
“What’s that?”
“It makes no promises.”
Eric smiled, a smile that mimicked hers. I wondered how much of his daughter lived in his face and how much of Starlet lived within her mother’s.
We finished our talk, and he drove me back to my place. As he parked the car in the driveway, he said, “I think I’m going to visit that lake on Friday mornings if that’s okay with you. I liked the view.”
“That’s fine by me.”
“And bring your backpack. I might not be the best tutor, but I’m damn sure I can help you out with a few equations to get you to graduation.”
I gave him a half grin. “Thanks, Eric.”
“Welcome. And, Milo?”
“Yes?”
“Swim.”
CHAPTER 37
Starlet
Late one Saturday night, I stood on Milo’s front porch. It took everything in me to ring his doorbell, and when I had, I almost darted into the bushes to hide. My nerves sat in my throat, but I stayed still as stone. I couldn’t leave things the way we had. After talking to my father, I felt as if I had to speak to Milo one last time from my heart.
I didn’t know what words would come out once he stood before me, but I was ready to try to find said words.
When he opened the door, I saw the look of shock on his face.
“Hey. What are you doing here? Are you okay?” he asked, alert. “Come inside,” he said, stepping to the side of his door. The care in his tone told me all I needed to know. He loved me more than any person had ever loved me before.
“It felt off to me,” I whispered as I stepped into the foyer of his house.
He raised an eyebrow. “What felt off?”
“The last time we had sex. Looking back, I knew it was different. I could see it in your eyes, too, and I couldn’t pinpoint it, but now I get it.”
“Listen—”
“No,” I cut in. I took a step toward him and placed his hands into mine. I stared down at our intertwined fingers. I missed his touch so much that his warmth almost knocked me backward. “I need you to listen first. I need you to know that I understand why you pushed me away. I get why you think I need to refocus myself. You’re right. I am lost and need to figure myself out before I can be with you. But I will be with you, Milo. So I have an issue with how you made love to me the other night.”