Page 115 of The Truth About Love

“My son hasn’t even been dead a year. How could I leave his mother all alone while she’s still drowning in the depths of her grief? I can’t do what my dad did to Mama. I can’t be my father, I just can’t.”

She doesn’t say anything, not for a long time. So long, in fact, that I’m sure she’s fallen asleep, until I chance a glance at her and see that she’s got her knees tucked into her chest as she rests her chin on top of them and stares out into the distance.

She’s given up the fight. It’s evident in the hunch of her shoulders and the paleness of her skin, as if the life is draining right out of her.

I get it. I feel that way too.

“There’s a word for people like you, you know?” she says, her monotonous voice is flat and completely devoid of emotion.

“What?” I raise an eyebrow in question.

“Martyr.”

And with that, she turns and heads back inside. I hear the shower turn on in her bathroom, but I don’t go back to the guest room right away. Instead, I let myself breathe in the salty air on Summer-Raine’s balcony for the last time.

Once the house has been sold, there will be no reason for her to come back here. No reason for me either, since Mama’s house was sold to an architect looking to flip it shortly after her death. There’s nothing left for either of us here in Islamorada.

Selfishly, I wish that we could have forgotten our situation for just one evening and sat curled up together in the same chair the way we used to. To say have said goodbye to our special place in each other’s arms, surrounded by the sounds of the sea and the memories we made here.

To have had just one more magic moment out here before I return to life without her. To the life that makes me miserable because every day I wake up without the woman I love by my side. Because, even though I meant everything I said about needing to be there for Cara, there’s a part of me that believes I don’t deserve a happily ever after of my own.

So, was Summer-Raine right when she called me a martyr?

Yeah, I think she probably was.

Chapter Thirty-one

Summer-Raine

It’s been a month since I buried my parents.

And a month since I saw Auden last.

He left my room that night after I’d hidden myself away in the bathroom, and began his drive back up to Tallahassee the next morning while I was still asleep. We haven’t spoken since.

Being with him out there on the balcony was almost as painful as the moment I learnt he was married. Because it had always been the place where we were at peace. Nothing bad could ever touch us out there. When we were together on that small strip of wood, wrapped up in each other’s arms as waves crashed and gulls beat their wings in the sky above us, we were untouchable. It was our safe space.

It was ours.

But now the sanctity of that sacred place has been lost. And yeah, okay, maybe that’s on me for begging him to do things that I knew went against every one of his instincts. His need to save and protect is what makes him the person he is. It’s both the best and worst thing about him, his selfish selflessness.

It’s hard to hate him for it.

I do though.

I hate him because despite everything, I still love him with every shattered shard of my soul.

A knock at my office door has my head snapping up to find Marlowe leaning against the doorframe with a glint in her eye. I’m supposed to be balancing the accounts for the foundation and drafting ideas for a big fundraiser we’re planning to host next month, but in two hours I have achieved next to nothing.

“Distracted?” Mar asks, coming round to perch on the edge of my desk.

She knows full well that I’m distracted. I’ve been distracted since the day I showed up on Auden’s doorstep only to be greeted by Cara and her diamond ring instead.

“Do you ever wish you’d never met somebody?”

She looks down at me with sad eyes. “Yeah.”

Of course, she does. Her ex-husband, Tyler, was an abusive asshole of epic proportions. For a long time after learning about how he treated Mar, I’d struggled with my guilt for encouraging their relationship back in high school.

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