Page 118 of Between Hello and Goodbye

Chapter Twenty-One

“It’s time for you to go home,” Asher said.

We were alone in the backyard where I’d found him staring at the ocean, arms crossed, feet planted in the grass. His face was haggard, his eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles—I don’t think he’d slept more than a few hours in the four days since we’d been back. I’d hardly had a moment alone with him, and now I kicked myself for not seeing how badly he was doing. I’d handled what he needed me to handle and had given him space, but that was a mistake.

“Go home? No, I don’t have to. I’ll stay as long as you need me.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll stay f—”

“No,” Asher said, and the ice in his voice cut through me like a knife, making me shiver. “You need to leave.”

“Asher…I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”

His dark gaze was on the horizon in front of him. “Not you. Me. I shouldn’t have left. I should never have…” His jaw clenched; muscles ticked in his cheek. “Go home, Faith. Go back to your home.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Asher, I—”

“Can’t you hear me?” he thundered, whirling on me so suddenly, I took a step back.

The house was filled with people, ready to leave for the marina and the memorial service. My cheeks burned hot, and my heart felt like it was ripping in half when it was already cracked for Morgan and Nalani.

“Go back to Seattle, Faith,” Asher said. “You need your shopping and your fancy lunches and your pampered lifestyle, and this little island isn’t it. You can’t cut it and you know it.”

“That’s not…that’s not fair,” I breathed. “I…”

He barreled on as if he hadn’t heard me. “You don’t belong here. And I don’t belong there. I should’ve been here. With him. I promised to always protect him. Ipromised…”

His voice wavered but he sucked in a breath, like sucking the pain back in before it could break free. He blamed himself. Because of course he did. He was a protector who thought he failed.

“Asher, don’t do that,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have—”

“Don’t tell me what I could or couldn’t have done,” he snarled. “Because we’ll never fucking know, will we?”

I recoiled from the accusation imbedded in those words. But pain and grief raged over his face like a storm. He held my gaze and I saw the cracks in his armor where the love tried to seep out.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said softly. “I can do whatever you need or…be wherever you need me to be. I love y—”

“I need you to leave,” he said. “That’s what I need.”

I stumbled back a step, the finality in those words cutting me to the core.

“O-okay,” I whispered. “If that’s what you want.”

He said nothing but resumed his vigilance over the ocean, arms crossed, closed off to me. Like a locked door.

Feeling as if I were drugged—half out of my body—I turned and walked across the lawn and up the lanai steps. Momi was in her chair, and she reached out a frail hand.

“Faith…don’t.”

I stopped and knelt beside her. “I have to. It’s what he needs, and I can’t…” Tears choked my throat and I swallowed them down. “When he looks at me, he sees himself in Seattle and not here. I can’t add to his pain when he already has so much. I can’t do that.”

“He doesn’t know what he needs,” Momi said, her own eyes shining. “It’s too new, too raw. Time… That’s the healing we all need. He just needs a little time…”

I shook my head. “I have to respect his wishes.”

She nodded, eyes on the figure in the yard, staring down at the ocean. “I understand. The only way I make sense out of the insensible is to feel there must be a larger picture waiting to reveal itself to me. But I can’t see it yet. Not yet.” She held me in her bird-like arms. “Aloha, Faith.”

“Aloha, Momi. If you need anything, you can call me. Any time.”

Empty words. I would be so far away. From her, from Kal, from Asher…