Page 52 of My Sweetest Agony

To that dark place where nothing can reach me.

Black spots form at the edges of my vision as Cam reaches into his boot and pulls out a knife that he uses to cut the box open. He pauses for a second, staring down into it where it rests on the seat. His shoulders tense, his entire demeanor shifting as the air seems to cool around us.

Time ticks by slowly now.

With each second that passes, we seem to be more lost in our own thoughts and memories.

The last time I was here with Drew…

Bright sunshine and warm breezes.

Pale sand and crisp waters that we sank into together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Tears slide down my cheeks, and when Cam finally looks up, they glimmer in his eyes, too.

He returns the blade to his boot and lifts the box with shaking hands.

This was never going to be easy. We both knew that and accepted it. But now that we’re finally here, about to do it, it feels like being punched squarely in the gut.

I try to draw in a breath, but it catches on a swallowed sob. Still, I force my feet to move, to step forward and reach into the box to pull out the small metal urn that holds all that’s left of Drew.

My eyes keep burning. The tears keep falling. And I want to blame it on the wind whipping into them during the drive, but it would be a lie.

This is it.

There isn’t any turning back now.

This is what Drew wanted.

Not to sit on the mantle or a shelf somewhere.

This is where he belongs, and he deserves that.

I can’t let my own grief hold me back from giving it to him.

Cam steps past me, over to a large garbage can, and tosses the box in. Then he shoves his hands through his hair as he returns to me, clamping his jaw tightly like he, too, is trying desperately to rein in his emotions.

Given the darkness overtaking his eyes and the way his entire body trembles, he isn’t doing much better than I am…

He inclines his head toward the beach entrance but doesn’t move toward it himself. Instead, he waits for me, watching as my gaze darts between him and the urn in my tight grip. “You ready?”

I shake my head, swallowing a knot of anguish stuck in my throat. “No.”

How could I ever be ready to say goodbye to Drew?

He was my life.

My heart and soul.

My everything.

Which means everything is wrong now.

Nothing feels right anymore.

And maybe it never will again.

Cam offers me a sad half-smile that’s filled with his own pain but somehow manages to ground me, too. It reminds me that he’s suffering just as badly as I am. That I’m not alone in any of this. And that this is the right thing to do.