Page 44 of Ebbing Tides (The Lighthouse Duology #2)

He wiped his hands off on his jacket as he replied, “It’s no problem. I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, wondering if it was Melanie who had told him or the day-shift guard, but knowing I wouldn’t ask.

“It’s okay,” I said.

He rested his forearms against the open window ledge, leaning down to look into the truck. “I guess you came by to see if Melanie was still here.”

I wasn’t sure why I felt so guilty about that, but I did as I mustered a nod.

To my disappointment, despite not being surprised, Charlie shook his head. “Sorry. She left pretty early this morning. She wanted to beat traffic.”

It was like drowning to know that she’d been gone for hours and my heart hadn’t sensed the distance between us growing and stretching with each and every mile she put behind her.

“Ah,” was all I could say as I turned to stare at my hands on the wheel.

Seconds went by. The silence between us thickened.

I knew I needed to leave and get back to Sid’s place.

I needed to get my dog and figure out what I was going to do with my life now that Dad was gone.

But Charlie continued to lean against my truck, no longer looking at me, but into the passenger seat.

Staring like he was lost somewhere in a daydream.

I waited another couple of awkward seconds, and then I was ready to say something, to get the hell out of there and continue with my day. But he beat me to it.

“Hey, before I let you go, can I show you something?”

My brow furrowed with curiosity, but I nodded.

“Sure, man,” I replied, though now I was certain he was, in fact, going to murder me and bury me somewhere in this place.

I got out of the truck, grabbing my phone in case I had to quickly make an emergency call, and followed him up the hill—past the axe, thank God—and into his house. He told me to wait in the living room for a minute and retreated down a hallway toward what I assumed to be his bedroom.

I took the moment to sweep my gaze around the room, remembering the time I’d had dinner here with Melanie and her boys and Charlie and his wife. It was only a few days ago, yet it seemed so far away now, like a distant memory. A life I'd gotten a taste of, but was never meant to be a part of.

My eyes caught on a picture of a younger Charlie on the mantel, and I stepped closer to get a better look. He must've been about twenty-one, twenty-two—if I had to guess—and he was standing with his arm around the shoulders of another man. Short, dark brown hair. Mischievous eyes and a smirk.

Luke .

I knew who he was the moment I saw him, and I recalled when he’d helped me out that one long-ago day in Connecticut.

I wondered if he would've been so eager if he'd known that, one day, I'd be in love with his wife.

Shuddering at the thought, I turned from the picture in time to watch Charlie walk down the hallway, his face downturned, with something that looked like an envelope in his hand.

He came to stand beside me, his eyes lifting to look at the picture I'd just been looking at.

“Melanie told me you guys had already met,” he said. “That's … that's honestly fucking wild; I can barely wrap my head around it.”

“Oh, believe me,” I said with a chuckle, “I've been trying to wrap my head around it for a long, long time.”

“Would you say it's been as long as you've loved her?”

Goose bumps scattered along my arms at the chill in his tone, and I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself, when Charlie held up a hand to stop me.

“I want you to read something,” he said, pulling a piece of paper from the envelope.

He unfolded it, and his eyes moved, scanning the written words, until he found what he was looking for. Then he turned the page to me, tapping his finger on the part he intended for me to read.

It was written in sloppy black handwriting, the chicken scratch barely legible. But I could read it enough.

“… the thing is—and I've told her this—I don't want her to be married to my memory forever.

If something happens to me, I want her to move on.

I want her to find someone who will actually be there for my kids.

I want her to finally find the man she's always deserved, and you and I both know that's not me.

I fucking love her, and for some reason, she loves me, but I am not in a million years who she deserves.

He's out there somewhere, and I want her to find him once I'm gone …”

With my heart hammering an out-of-sync tune, I looked up to meet Charlie's gaze. He cleared his throat as he took the letter and folded it up, tucking it safely back into its envelope.

“You're him ,” he said after a few moments of silence, his voice gruff. “You do know that, right?”

I started to shake my head slowly. “I-I don't—”

“Don't do that, man,” he cut me off. “You don't have to deny shit with me. And I'm not even trying to tell you what to do right now. But I wanted you to see this because Luke would've wanted me to show you.”

With a hard swallow, I answered with a curt nod.

“I should put this away,” he said, beginning to turn with the letter raised. But then he stopped. “You do love her … right?”

“How could you tell?” I replied.

He sighed, never lifting his eyes from the letter in his hand. “Because you look at her the same way she looks at you.”

Hope ignited in my chest as my heart took off thumping at the speed of light, yet I could only grunt in response.

“She loved my brother,” he went on, almost as if speaking to himself. “To a fault, she loved him. So fucking much. But there was … an innocence to her love for him, I guess. Like she didn't know better. And it was never meant to last forever—I always knew that.”

As he spoke, I thought about Laura. Oh, how I loved her. How I loved everything we had been, even when we weren't anything at all. But I understood what he was saying. I understood the innocence of a young love that didn't know better, a love that would never let go, even when it should.

“But the way Melanie looks at you …” He sighed, a bit forlorn. “She's wiser . She knows better now. She knows that love is making the choice to watch someone die, to eventually say goodbye … and she wants to do it anyway. Because you're worth it.”

He glanced up at me, his eyes stricken with sadness. “Is she worth it?”

Charlie didn't wait for me to reply as he walked away, heading back down the hall. I turned, my eyes pinned to Luke's grinning image, frozen within the confines of the picture frame.

Then, before Charlie could return, I left his cottage on the hill.