I’ve worked it out so that I’m not working incessantly. I’ll have free time with you, with our kids, if you come back to me, Ava. I promise you that.
With the extra time, I’ve taken up surfing. It gets me in Zen mode before I go to work. At the back of our house we have wooden stairs that go down to the beach. It took me a few times to get the hang of it but now I’m a regular surfer dude. I’ve even let my hair grow out about half an inch. Baby steps. My mind has been quiet for a while now. There’s no more searching for answers. I know exactly what I want and I know that I may not get it. It’s been hard; I’m lonely. I miss you. I miss the idea of you.
Edith, our neighbor always tells me I’m weird because I don’t have a girlfriend. I keep telling her that you’re coming but when she asks where you are now, I have to say that I don’t know. I don’t know where you are in this world, in your mind, or in your heart, but I hope that a month from now it will all be the same place . . . with me.
People ask me all the time if I date or if I’m in a relationship. I never know the right thing to say. I usually tell them that I’m waiting for the only girl I’ve ever loved to come back to me. I get a lot of weird looks but I don’t care.
You have our address from the envelopes so I guess we can just plan to meet here on June 14th. I’ve already taken the day off. Come home.
This morning I bought a pair of shoes and stopped at a rack of women’s boots. I spotted a pair just like yours and it reminded me of you but then again everything reminds me of you. Do you think it always will? Nate.
———
June 14, 2011
Dear Ava,
This is the last letter I’m going to write you. I’m saying goodbye; I have to in order to move on with my life. You didn’t come back to me. I don’t know how long my hope was false. I don’t know if you were over us a month after I last saw you or if it was yesterday. I just know that I spent a year waiting for you and you never came.
It rained all night last night. We had a weird summer storm but somehow it made everything seem fresh this morning; renewed. I got up early and cleaned the house from top to bottom, took a shower, and waited. The house was full of flowers for you and I got your favorite wine. I even made dinner for the both of us and then I ate it alone. I sat out on the balcony and watched the sun go down into the ocean and then the wind picked up and I came inside to write you this letter.
I loved you, I love you now, but I’ll be able to go on. I know that I can. You taught me that. Not being with you is far from my dream, but like our hearts, dreams can be broken and repaired again. It’s hard for me not to wonder if I scared you away with all these letters. I hope not. I hope it just made you see how beautiful and amazing you are. I guess I’m realizing now that I just want you to be happy and safe. That’s the most I can hope for now. I brought some of your boxes here but I didn’t open
CHAPTER 26
The House on the Ocean
Avelina
The taillights of the cab blurred as they got farther and farther away. I stood motionless, watching them fade into the distance. I could hear the waves crashing below but it was too dark to see the ocean. It was just a vast black nothingness, made even blacker by the illuminated house perched on the cliff.
I knew Nate would be waiting for me. The delayed flight and broken GPS in the cab made it seem like the universe was making it hard on me to get back to him, but I was there, frozen in the street. The wind pushed against my back, encouraging me to go forward. I slowly made my way to the door with one tiny suitcase in hand. For a year I wondered about that moment. What would I say? What would I wear? Would Nate still want to be with me? I knew from the letters that he would be waiting.
The doorknob turned with ease, so I made my way inside quietly. From the entryway I could see him, sitting at a desk, writing. He was turned away from the door so that he didn’t notice my presence.
I had the urge to watch him for a few seconds before getting his attention. His arm was propped on the desk and his hand was lost in his hair as he leaned over the desk, his right hand flying across the page. His hair was a bit longer and he looked tan, which made me smile. He was wearing black jeans, no shoes, and a plain gray T-shirt. He looked casual and comfortable but his posture gave him a slightly dejected look. I wondered if it was because I was so late.
“Nate,” I finally spoke. He turned in his chair and looked at me. He blinked a few times, showing little recognition.
“Ava.” The word barely made a sound on his lips. He was testing it.
He stood but stayed where he was. We watched each other for a moment. I saw his eyes dart everywhere. He looked at my suitcase then up and down my body. He swayed again.
I dropped my suitcase and went to him. His hands gripped my face hard. Like the sun to the ocean, I sank into Nate before everything went quiet. We were together.
“You’re here.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why did you make me wait?” He pulled away and opened his eyes wide, accusatorily.
“We agreed on a year.”
“No, I mean today.”
I looked away. “Oh, my flight . . .”
“Never mind,” he said, then he smashed his mouth to mine. I melted into him.
He pulled away suddenly and looked down at me, his eyes still wide. “So you planned to come back to me . . . all along, like you said you would?”
“I was counting down the minutes from the moment I left you on my mother’s doorstep. I had to do it; I had to prove . . .”