Chapter 13
Two years after Owen died, Roman took me back to the lake.
I had avoided it.
I could not even see photographs of docks without my hands going numb.
But one September morning, I woke before sunrise and knew.
“Take me there.”
Roman did not ask why.
The cabin had been sold.
The dock remained.
Mist floated over the water.
I walked to the exact place where my son had called for me.
My knees began shaking.
Roman stayed ten feet behind.
I appreciated that.
I took Owen’s favorite toy from my coat pocket.
A green plastic Tyrannosaurus with one missing leg.
For years, I had kept it beside my bed.
I had planned to throw it into the lake.
But standing there, I could not.
Throwing away something he loved did not feel like freedom.
It felt like losing him again.
So I sat.
Roman eventually sat beside me.
We watched sunrise turn the lake gold.
“I keep imagining his last minute,” I said.
Roman said nothing.
“I want to stop.”
“I know.”
“What if I forget the sound of his voice?”
“You have recordings.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“What if one day Emma asks about him and I can only remember how he died?”
Roman looked at me.
“Then I’ll remember other things for you.”
I swallowed.
“Like what?”
“He cheated at Go Fish.”
I laughed through my tears.
“He was seven.”
“He was a criminal.”
“He gave you the wrong cards on purpose?”
“He destroyed me.”
“That does sound like Owen.”
“He told Sophie I was afraid of geese.”
“Are you?”
“One attacked me when I was nine.”
“Oh my God.”
“It was unusually aggressive.”
I laughed until I cried again.
But this time the crying did not feel like drowning.
Roman reached inside his coat.
“I had a different plan for today.”
My laughter stopped.
He pulled out a small velvet box.
“Roman.”
“Before you panic, I am aware you said no two years ago.”
“You remember?”
“I remember every traumatic event.”
I smiled.
He did not kneel.
I loved him for that.
Instead he placed the box between us on the dock.
“I don’t want to rescue you, Claire.”
My chest tightened.
“I tried that in the beginning because rescue was the only kind of love I understood. Protect. Provide. Destroy the threat.”
He looked toward the water.
“But you didn’t need another man deciding what your life should look like.”
“No.”
“You needed somewhere safe enough to decide for yourself.”
I took his hand.
“So I’m asking now because you have your own house, your own money, your own work, your own lawyer, your own ridiculous opinions about security systems—”
“They are normal opinions.”
“They are reckless.”
May you like
I laughed.
He opened the box.
