Page 16 of Ripple Effect

A heavy silence descends upon us, broken only by the soft lapping of the waves nearby. She’s hurting, and I want to say something,anything, to make it better. But the right words evade me.

Finally, she speaks, a sniffle and a hiccup preceding her words. “Logan cheated on me.”

Her confession hangs heavy in the cool night air.What a fucking loser, is all I can seem to think. But I scramble for other words, for some way to comfort her. “That’s ... really shitty. I’m sorry.”

She merely shrugs, her gaze distant, lost in her own world as her toes dig into the sand. “He . .. he was my first real boyfriend, you know?” she adds. Her words are so soft they nearly drown in the sound of the ocean. “We’d been together for over two years ... went to college together at Dayton. He even seemed fine with the long distance, said it was no problem, that we could make it work.”

“Fucking hell.”

Her voice trembles, her gaze far-off, lost in a memory. “And it hadn’t even been a month since we’d been apart, and he ... he just slept with someone else.”

The words sit between us, a painful reminder of human fallibility, of betrayal. I watch her, the way her body shivers slightly at the admission, the way her eyes grow glossy with a fresh set of tears.

“He drove all the way here last weekend just to tell me he did it. I don’t know if it’s some twisted version of ‘honesty is the best policy’ or if he was just looking for an easy way out,” she adds bitterly, the hint of a sarcastic chuckle escaping her lips.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “I ... dammit, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what else to say, but what I do know is that you didn’t deserve it.”

It’s all I can offer her in this moment, my own past experiences having taught me that sometimes, the most comforting thing you can do for someone is just to be there.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a great listener?” she asks after a moment, her tone hinting at a sliver of her usual light-heartedness.

The question rattles me, ripping a surprised chuckle from my throat. I meet her gaze, the corners of her mouth tugging upward into the faintest semblance of a smile.

“My friend Kaia says that sometimes, but I always feel like she’s lying.”

“Well, she’s not.” She laughs, the tears catching in her throat. “You just ... sit there and listen. You don’t try to fix things or pretend you have all the answers. It’s ... nice.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.”

She laughs again at that, a tiny, breathy sound, like the first warm ray of sun breaking through a cloudy morning. Her chuckle dissolves into silence, her gaze distant as she watches the waves crash against the shore.

“I really thought he loved me,” she finally whispers. There’s a raw, open vulnerability in her voice, and it sends my gaze flickering back to her.

I take a deep breath, the taste of salt and sea filling my lungs. This isn’t my field of expertise.Hell, I’m probably the last person who should be giving relationship advice, but I find myself drawn to help her, to offer some small comfort where I can.

“Hey,” I say, my voice steady. “Being cheated on says more about him than it does about you. You’re more than enough for the person who deserves you.”

There’s a beat of silence, the world holding its breath. Then, slowly, she gives me another smile. It’s small, it’s fragile, but it’s there. “You’re sweet, Elio. Really.”

A surprised laugh escapes me, my usual wall of sarcasm momentarily crumbled. “I’m not. But for you, right now, I sure can try.”

* * *

After a few more moments ofpeaceful quiet, of shared comfort staring out at the shore, Daisy and I part ways. She promises to make it home safe, and Bentley leads me back while she returns to her abandoned surfboard, the tears finally at bay.

Now that I’m tucked back inside my bedroom, the image of her sitting there all alone on the beach still lingers in my mind. It’s sad, disheartening, to witness someone so full of life become so brokenhearted.

But she’ll bounce back. I know she will.

To distract myself from the thoughts, I lie down on my bed, that familiar blue glow from my laptop the only source of light, and scroll through my AfterDark messages. The request from Sapphire still sits in my inbox, unanswered.

I agreed to something more personal, and she came back with an offer that’s hard to ignore. She wants to take things further, to transition our live sessions to two-way video chats.

The amount of money she’s proposed is more than tempting, but I’ve told her I need time to think about it. And now, that time’s running thin. A decision needs to be made one way or another.

I switch tabs, browsing through the backlog of one-on-one requests that have piled up throughout the last couple of days. Thanks to Sapphire, the demand for web chats is sky-high.

Since my heart issue sidelined me, I’ve done back-to-back live sessions all week in place of filming scenes. The immediate financial benefits are good, but the longer-term income that comes from partner videos and shoots is far more consistent.

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