Page 63 of Waves
“And what if I don’t? What if I stay this way forever?”
“I will be the envy of the retirement home.”
I snorted at his good sense of humor, and he smiled with me.
Ezra leaned closer, then squeezed me. “I don’t ever want to be without you—ever. I just may die a little inside.”
“I know, love. Me, too,” I said, tracing the perfect curve of his back. “Which is why I feel so guilty making you wait. I worry you’ll still be chasing me in your old age.”
“Then don’t make me chase you,” Ezra said with a playful nudge. “Last time you came back all on your own. You can do it again.”
“Do you really think so?”
Eventually I told Ezra all I could remember, how I found what I came to think of as our beach—where we first met—and walked home from there. Still, I hardly had any memory of doing it even weeks later.
“When the sun sets over the ocean, my butt is going to be parked in the sand. Don’t make me wait for nothing.”
I smiled at the image, but traces of doubt remained. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“Kai,” Ezra said with a sigh, his eyes softening. “I’d gladly spend my life chasing you across the ocean, if that’s what it took. I refuse to accept a life without you.”
“You’re so sentimental in the evening,” I teased.
Ezra leaned his head to mine before he cupped my face and kissed me. My heart had recognized my soulmate from the moment I saw him. I loved the countless ways we learned to profess our love since then. I savored hearing him say the actual words, but equally adored the sweetness of each kiss, his bright eyes shining at the mere sight of me, and breathing in the soft scent of his skin when he lay in my arms. Above all, I loved the way I could feel his love. I understood what every inch of his body sang to me whenever we were this close, and part of me always hummed in unison with every part of him.
* * *
EZRA
The air blew colder when the light of the sun receded across the horizon, and I zipped my fleece jacket to my neck to guard against the chill. Ishmael lay on a blanket in the sand with me while he gazed ahead. We were both on lookout while we watched the ocean. Searching the water became harder in the low light, but I remained determined to wait. Kai could do this. I knew he could.
While I stared at the water from my safe spot on land, I thought about how, for someone who grew up in a coastal town, I didn’t enjoy the ocean the same way most people did. The irony was, my fear cultivated my passion and helped shape what I chose to do with my life. While my older brother and sister still loved splashing among the ocean waves, as they did every summer since we were all kids, I didn’t. I had always been content dry, examining the perfect ecosystems of the tide pools, or sketching the seabirds in my notebook.
I couldn’t say for sure what made me so terrified and not them. According to Dad, I always had been. The story went I blubbered the entire way to the beach the first time they brought me, and I only cried harder the closer we got. I didn’t remember my first encounter with the waves either, but apparently, I screamed bloody murder while holding onto him for dear life. All I remembered was refusing to go near the water again, and Mom telling Dad I’d come around when I was ready.
Only, I never was.
Even as an adult, I struggled with wading through the water. Of course, I didn’t hate the ocean, and I could never hate the beach, but I refused to swim. My chest tightened at the very thought of bobbing in open water and the vast emptiness below me. The pull of the ocean once the waves receded always tingled my skin unpleasantly. And of course, I made a point of keeping a life vest on me or near me whenever on my boat, and Ishmael always wore one every time, with no exceptions. Mary liked to say I must have drowned in a past life; I considered myself afraid to drown in this one.
Despite my anxieties, I loved the ocean. The salty air of a clean beach ranked as my favorite scent in the world, and the view of the coast from my boat still took my breath away. I even admired how we still didn’t know all the species out there or how deep the ocean truly went. We lived in an era of unlimited knowledge at our fingertips, yet the sea maintained an air of mystery. Plenty of secrets had yet to be discovered and surprises to be found, like Kai, for example. And surprised would be the only way I could describe Mary and Eric’s reactions this morning.
Mary and Eric arrived at my place before the sun rose. Once Eric declared Kai healed enough, his stitches came out, and we all went to the marina together. After all, Kai promised they could come along the next time he left. Mary yelped when Kai started stripping, then verbally fought with herself over whether or not she should watch this. I got the same question from Eric, only much quieter.
The moment I dreaded for weeks arrived, but when the time came for Kai to get in the water, a sense of calm settled across me like a dusting of snow. In that brief instance, I knew he would be fine. I knew he would be back. I knew he loved me, and I loved him. Nothing could change him, but nothing was also what could keep us apart.
Kai kissed me with a smile on his lips while I hung off the back of my boat and he only let go right before he slipped beneath the water, coat in hand. Mary and Eric were still watching the spot where they last saw Kai, and I had to slap their shoulders to redirect them and point him out in the distance.
“No way,” Mary gasped. She looked at the pale seal cruising along the surface to the cloud of bubbles where Kai had been in the water moments ago.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled for him.
Kai’s silver head snapped back in our direction and he swam back to the boat.
“No fucking way,” Mary repeated even louder.
Kai hung beside the boat for a while, watching us watch him while he floated on his back in the water. Ishmael behaved better than expected—until he began a barking contest with Kai. I might have lost some hearing after that game.
Kai gradually lost interest in us, and I didn’t call him back when he swam away this time. Even though I might never understand, I accepted he needed his time in the ocean. Hopefully, he also knew I never meant to deprive him of something he loved, only to protect him. I’d also since realized that being loved by something wild had no comparison. Nothing could ever hold him, yet he always chose to come back to me.