His Love Is Not Visible Chapter 38
After the project ended, I took a week off and went by myself to the Oregon coast, a place I’d wanted to visit since college.
Megan worried, so she texted me every morning and night.
[You still alive?]
I sent her a short video of the waves.
[Extremely healthy.]
Ethan occasionally sent restaurant recommendations, but he never asked which hotel I was staying at or suggested joining me.
I stayed by the sea for seven days.
I watched the sunrise in the morning, biked in the afternoon, and found quiet places to eat at night.
On the third day, it rained.
I sat by the window, sorting through the photo albums on my phone and deleting pictures.
Wedding photos.
Bancroft family gatherings.
The candid shots I’d secretly taken of Garrett.
And that group photo from Vanessa’s welcome-back party.
At last, I came across a photo Megan had taken of me in the hospital.
In it, my face was pale, an IV needle taped to the back of my hand.
I didn’t delete it.
I didn’t want to remember the pain. I just wanted to remember that the woman in that picture had survived it.
Vanessa’s apology was still saved on my phone, too.
This time, I deleted that as well.
The rain stopped, and sunlight spread across the water. I changed clothes and left the hotel.
When I reached the beach, a little girl’s kite had broken loose.
I caught the string for her.
She hugged the kite and looked up at me with a smile.
“Thank you.”
I crouched down and retied the loosened string.
The hollow place inside me still ached sometimes.
Now, I could finally admit it: that child had come, and that child was gone.
It wasn’t my fault.
I didn’t need to punish myself for the rest of my life.
The little girl ran off after her mother. I kept walking along the coast.
The wind tossed my hair loose around my face.
I didn’t stop.