Chapter 122 Low Tide
Chapter 122 Low Tide
Chapter Twenty-three
Charlie
The ocean doesn't answer.
It just keeps moving.
Wave after wave rolls toward the shoreline, crashing against the sand, then slipping back into the gray water as though nothing had happened.
I envy it.
I wish I knew how to let things go that easily.
Instead, I sit on an old weathered bench overlooking the bay, a paper cup of coffee cooling between my gloved hands.
I’ve been here for nearly an hour.
Long enough for the heat to disappear from the cup.
Long enough for the feeling to leave my fingers despite my thick winter gloves.
Long enough for the anger to diminish to a fast simmer.
Now there is only exhaustion.
The kind that settles somewhere deeper than sleep can fix.
Snowflakes drift lazily from the heavy clouds overhead, disappearing into the dark water the moment they land.
The bay doesn’t care.
It doesn’t care that my heart feels cracked wide open.
It doesn’t care that I drove here without remembering most of the trip.
It doesn’t care that every plan I made for the future had unraveled before breakfast.
The waves keep coming anyway.
Steady.
Unchanging.
Indifferent.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and watch them break against the shore.
Funny.
A few hours ago, all I’d felt was anger.
Now…
Now I can’t even manage that.
Every time I try to be angry with Cade, another memory gets in the way.
His face when he admitted he was scared.
The way his voice had trembled.
The panic in his eyes.
He hadn’t looked relieved when he’d asked me to leave.
He’d looked devastated.
That was somehow worse.
I sighed into the cold air.
“I don’t understand you.”
The wind carries the words out over the water.
No answer comes back.
My phone buzzes inside my coat pocket.
I ignore it.
It buzzes again.
Then a third time.
With a tired sigh, I pull it free.
Three missed calls.
Two text messages.
Lottie
\[Where are you?\]
Another one appears before I can lock the screen.
\[Don’t ignore me.\]
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth lifts.
Barely.
I type a single reply.
\[The bay.\]
Three dots appear almost instantly.
\[Stay there.\]
A second message follows.
\[I’m coming.\]
I stare at the screen for a moment before slipping the phone back into my pocket.
For once, I don’t argue with her.
I don’t have the energy.
The coffee has gone completely cold.
I take another sip anyway.
It tastes terrible.
Of course it does.
Nothing has tasted right for weeks except the coffee Cade made.
That realization earns a humorless laugh.
“Seriously?”
I look down at the cup.
“You’ve ruined coffee for me.”
The ocean remains unimpressed.
About half an hour later, tires crunch over frozen gravel behind me.
I don’t turn around.
I already know who it is.
A car door shuts.
Footsteps approach.
Then stops beside the bench.
Lottie doesn’t say anything.
She simply sits beside me, bundled in a charcoal wool coat, knitted scarf wrapped twice around her neck, matching gloves tucked beneath folded arms.
For several minutes, we just watch the waves together.
Finally, she nudges my shoulder. “You look awful.”
I snort quietly. “I was hoping you’d lie.”
“I figured you’d know better.”
A faint smile touches my lips before disappearing again.
The silence returns.
Comfortable.
Patient.
Lottie has always been good at waiting.
Eventually, I speak, “I think I screwed everything up.”
She doesn’t rush to answer. “What happened?”
I stare at the horizon. “It finally happened.”
She nods once. “I guessed.”
“It didn’t end the way I thought it would.”
“No. It didn’t.”
The words feel heavy. “He asked me to leave.”
She looks at me then.
Not with surprise.
With sympathy.
“I said things I shouldn’t have.”
“You were hurt.”
“I was angry.”
“I know.”
“I still am.”
Neither of us speaks for a while.
Snow continues falling around us.
Finally, she asks quietly, “When he asked you to leave…”
I look over.
“…did he ever tell you he didn’t love you?”
I frown. “What?”
“Answer the question.”
I replay the morning.
Every word.
Every look.
Every painful second.
Slowly, I shake my head. “No.”
She nods. “Did he ever tell you he didn’t want you?”
Again… “No.”
“Did he tell you what you feel together isn’t real?”
“…No.”
She looks back toward the water. “So what did he tell you?”
I close my eyes.
The answer comes without effort.
“He said he was scared.”
“There it is.”
I open my eyes. “What?”
She meets my gaze. “Charlie… don’t confuse fear with a lack of love.”
My throat tightens. “He still sent me away.”
“I know.”
“He rejected me.”
“I know.”
“Then how am I supposed to believe he loves me?”
She was quiet for a long moment.
Then she asks, “How long were you gone?”
“A week.”
“And before that week… what happened between you two?”
I hesitate.
Then answer, “We were finally getting somewhere.”
She nods. “And while you were gone?”
“I kept telling myself I’d call tomorrow.” I laugh bitterly. “Tomorrow turned into seven days.”
Lottie doesn’t say, I told you so.
She never would.
Instead, she asks softly, “Did Cade ever tell you what happened when Jordan’s other parent left?”
I frown. “No.”
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
She looked back at the waves. “Patrick told me.”
My chest tightens.
“He was fifteen.”
I nod. “I know.”
“He told Jordan’s other parent he was pregnant.”
My stomach sinks. “And?”
“He walked out.”
The wind seems colder somehow.
“He never came back.”
Neither of us speaks.
The pieces began fitting together on their own.
I don’t need Lottie to explain them.
They are already falling into place.
The silence.
The fear.
The panic every time I disappeared.
The look on Cade’s face when I came back after that week.
He hadn’t just been waiting for me.
He’d been waiting to find out if history was about to repeat itself.
“Damn.”
The word escapes quietly.
Lottie looks at me.
“He thought I abandoned him.”
“I think a part of him did.”
I drop my head into my hands. “I never wanted that.”
“I know.”
“I had work.”
“I know.”
“I kept thinking if I waited until I knew exactly what to say…”
“…it would somehow hurt less?”
I nod.
She sighs softly. “But silence lets people write their own endings.”
The words land hard.
Because they’re true.
I’d left Cade alone with his worst memories.
Without meaning to.
Without knowing.
But I’d done it all the same.
After several minutes, I finally ask, “Do you think he meant it?”
She looks at me.
“When he told me to leave.”
Lottie considers the question carefully. “I think he believed he had to.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No. It isn’t.”
She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “But Charlie…”
She smiles sadly. “When people are terrified enough… They don’t push away the things they don’t want. They push away the things they’re convinced they’ll lose.”
I stare at the water.
For the first time since leaving Cade’s house, my anger loosens its grip.
The hurt remains.
But something else settles beside it.
Understanding.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
Just understanding.
By the time Lottie leaves me and I make it back to my apartment, dusk has settled over the city.
Snow drifts beneath the streetlights.
The world looks softer than it feels.
Inside, the apartment greets me with silence.
No Jordan.
No laughter.
No smell of fresh coffee.
No trace of cinnamon and vanilla lingering in the air.
I shrug out of my coat and hang it beside the door.
The apartment suddenly feels much too big.
I sit on the couch and pull my phone from my pocket.
Cade’s name stares back at me.
One tap.
One call.
One more chance to chase after him.
My thumb hovers over the screen.
Then slowly…
I lock the phone.
Not because I don’t want to hear his voice.
Because I’d spent weeks proving I would come back.
I’d apologized.
I’d explained.
I’d returned.
I’d stayed.
For weeks I’d convinced myself that loving Cade meant never letting go.
Maybe…
Maybe loving him also meant giving him the chance to find his way back.
I place the phone on the coffee table and lean back against the couch.
Outside, the snow keeps falling.
Inside, the apartment remains painfully still.
I stare out the window for a long time before quietly speaking into the empty room.
“Your move.”