Page 29 of Nineteen Letters

“Yes,” I reply eagerly. I want to drag out my time here as long as I can. For a woman who doesn’t know where she belongs, a part of me feels at home here.

“Great. There’s a rock pool a little further down that I’d love to show you.”

“Lead the way.”

We walk in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. It feels completely natural to be here with him.

I watch as he reaches down and picks up a stick from the sand. A few seconds later he tosses it out into the water. “I’mthinking of getting a dog,” he says. “It gets lonely in the house on my own. I think it’ll be good company for me.”

“That’s a great idea.” I don’t know what else I can say. I feel sad for him, but I can’t live with him. Not now.

“I thought a dog would be better than a cat. I don’t think Samson would be pleased if I brought home a feline.”

“Samson?”

“Our bird. He’s a rainbow lorikeet. We inherited him.”

“Oh.”

He stops walking and faces me. “I don’t want to, but I need to accept that there’s a chance you may never come back home.”

I smile at him sympathetically. “I don’t think any of us can predict what lies ahead, Braxton.”

I can’t give him hope when there’s still no hope to give.

Chapter 13

Jemma

Ilie on my side on top of the bed and stare at the shell Braxton found for me at the rock pool. I’ve put it on my bedside table because I wanted it close. I reach for it and run my fingertip over the smooth porcelain surface.

Closing my eyes, I bring it to my ear. I feel my lips curve up as I listen to the sound of the ocean trapped inside. My smile widens as I think back to that moment on the beach. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was surprised to see that the rock pool was brimming with sea life. My favourites were a small starfish and a crab no bigger than my thumbnail—I was enthralled when it ran sideways on its journey back to the vast ocean.

I watched on as Braxton headed towards a small sandy patch nestled between the rocks. The area was littered with remnants of the sea. He picked up a few things and brushed them over with his fingertips. “Nope,” he said as he discarded each one. “Nope, has a chip in it.” I’m pretty sure he was talking to himself, and it was amusing to watch him. “Yes … perfect.” He climbed back up to where I stood and opened the palm of his hand to reveal a shell.

“For me?” I asked as he pushed his outstretched arm closer towards me.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. It’s so pretty.” I took the white cone-shaped shell and studied it.

“Hold it to your ear,” he said. “You’ll be able to hear the ocean inside.”

By the time we got back to the car, my cheeks ached from all the smiling. I clutched the shell in my hand all the way home. It was my very first treasured memory. Not only did I have the shell to keep, but I also got to experience this memory firsthand. Every beautiful second of it.

I paid special attention on our drive back to Christine’s. I wanted to remember how to get there again. I even memorised some of the street names and wrote them down as soon as I got home. I’m not sure how I’ll get back there, but I’ll find a way.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when there’s a knock on my bedroom door. “It’s me, sweetheart,” Christine calls out. “A delivery just arrived for you.”

I sit up so fast I feel dizzy, so I wait until my head stops spinning before I stand.

“Coming.”

I think I startle Christine with how eagerly I open the door.

“Hi.”

“Hi. This just arrived,” she replies smiling as she holds out a parcel. It’s a lot larger than the last one, at least ten times the size of the one that held my memory bracelet. But that’s not what excites me. It’s the letter I see attached to it.He wrote me another letter. “Someone’s getting spoilt.”