Page 2 of When We Are Complete
I promised her I’d be strong—no tears, no faltering. But strength is a brittle thing, cracking under the weight of memories and failed expectations.
“Okay, I better get going,” I say, voice bright despite the tight feelings clawing at my chest.
“Safe travels, honey. Call us when you get there,” Dad says.
“Will do.” I step back and grab my keys from the counter.
The whole family comes outside to wave me off. Anthony and Edward and their pretty wives and perfect children. And me…
My car is filled with everything I need for my fresh start—books, clothes, my bicycle. I’ve packed and repacked the trunk three times now, making sure everything’s lined up just right. The clothes on one side, the books perfectly stacked in the corner with the spines facing the same way.
Before I slide into the driver’s seat, I pull out my phone and tap out a message to my best friend since forever, Nora O’Connor: “Leaving now. Harbor’s Edge, here I come!”
I don’t wait for a response; the engine roars to life beneath my hands and I wave to everyone. As I pull onto the road, I check the rearview mirror. Once, twice. The street’s empty of cars behind me, but I glance again, just in case. Reflections of my family shrink away as I navigate through the streets of Newark.
I can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty, as though I’m standing on the edge of something big, but I don’t know what it is yet.
I try to focus on the practical reasons I’m going back—work, the chance to make a name for myself doing something more meaningful than corporate events. But it’s a crack in a dam, and the more I try to ignore it, the wider the crack grows until the realization hits me square in the chest.
I’m not going back for the job. Not really. I’m going back forher.
My chest tightens, and I blink hard. I thought I’d buried this, buried the need to prove myself to someone who’s no longer here. But there it is, staring me in the face. I’m going back to Harbor’s Edge because, deep down, I’m still trying to make Mom proud.
If only she were here to see it.
I turn up the radio, hoping to drown out the noise in my head, but then the opening notes of Adele’sRolling in the Deepcomes on, the song twisting through the air. I grit my teeth, gripping the wheel a little harder.
The words hit me harder than they should, and it’s because I’m heading home, but that doesn’t stop the memories from shaking loose—memories I’ve kept tucked away, buried somewhere I wouldn’t trip over them.
Everyone has someone they think about when that song comes on the radio, that one person who slipped away, whose absence left a wound so deep in their heart, the scar still burns.
And for me, that person is Jake Tanner.
He was the one who filled up every corner of my world, who made the small town of Harbor’s Edge feel like it held everything I could ever want. I was young, sure, but it was more than a first love—we were supposed to last, and I had this stupid, naïve belief that no matter where we went or who we became, we’d somehow always find our way back to each other.
Well, that was a load of shit.
I try to shove it all back down, but the song keeps playing, relentless, peeling back layers I’ve spent years building. Closing my eyes at a red light, inhaling deeply, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions. But his face slips into my mind, those steady brown eyes that used to make me feel so good about myself. A thousand memories flood back—sticky summers, parties under the lighthouse, the way he’d kiss me.
I give in and let them wash over me because the more I fight, the harder they’ll pull me under. Finally, I open my eyes and the light changes. So does the song. But I can still feel it—something cracking me open from the inside out.
The hours pass quickly, and soon the town’s sign appears by the side of the road, its letters painted in a charming, old-fashioned script that looks as though it belongs in another time. Each curve and flourish seems to welcome me back, as if the place itself has been waiting.
Just one more turn, and I’ll be where my world fell apart all those years ago—and maybe where I can finally make myself whole again. I reach out and turn down the radio, letting the slow notes of the country ballad fade into silence, and tune into the steady hum of the engine, the weight of returning settling around me.
A shiver courses through me as I cross into town, a recognition that I’m skirting the edges of something that's both new and old. It’s the fear of being engulfed by the past, twined with the hope that in the quiet streets and salt-tinged air, I might finally be who I’m supposed to be—before loss hollowed out spaces within me.
I steer my car through the familiar turns. Trees arch overhead, forming a canopy that blocks out the setting sun, washing the world in a dusky haze. That distinct smell of Harbor’s Edge lingers in the air, the scent of the sea and pine mingling, a scent that speaks of my past.
Like that night Jake and I spent down by the jetty, eating ice cream cones and stealing sugary sweet kisses, wrapped in a blanket of moonlight and summer air. Back when Jake was my entire world.
God, get out of my head already.
I reach Main Street and pull over in front of Sweet Current Bakery. It’s closed, but the grocery store on the corner is still open. Stepping out, walking down the familiar sidewalk, there’s both the pull of the past and the push of an unknown future, tugging at my heart with the promise of possibility.
I’ve got this. I do.
Chapter 2