Between Hello and Goodbye(21)

“I take it you have no online presence?”

“Online presence?” He said the words as if they tasted rotten. “No, I have no online presence. The internet is a hoax.”

“A hoax.” I arched a brow. “Tell me more.”

“It isn’t real. At best, it’s a bunch of people showing off filtered photos of their lives and pretending they’re happier than they actually are. At worst, it’s a virtual townhall to bitch and moan and treat opinions like facts instead of the polished turds that they are.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” I said with a laugh. “There are positives to it too, you know.”

“Name one.”

“I could name a hundred. It’s essential in my line of work, for one thing. But there are also some really damn funny and clever people out there, too. I once saw this meme of a cat—”

He was already shaking his head. “Look outside,” he said, gesturing to the window. “Real life is out there, not on a screen. I mean, have you ever been with the ocean?”

“Been with the ocean?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I meant, just sat and looked at it?”

“Of course, I have,” I said. “Lots of times. In Cancún, the Bahamas, Jamaica…” I tapped my fingernail to my teeth. “Although now that you mention it, I believe I stuck closer to the pool in all scenarios. Less sand in the crevices.”

Asher balled up his napkin. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the beach.”

“I thought you had to leave.”

“Well, maybe I don’t.”

That hot, sexy feeling he’d sent down my spine now reversed course and settled warmly in my chest. I hadn’t realized how badly I didn’t want him to go until he said he could stay.

“Do you think I’m beach-ready?”

“Yes.”

Within minutes, Asher had packed up a cooler with bottles of something called Shaka iced tea and the sandwiches he’d brought for lunch. He grabbed towels, sunscreen, and two beach chairs from the closet where the Airbnb owners had stashed a bunch of supplies. My firefighter carried all the stuff while I crutched slowly after him along the sidewalk that led from my condo to the beach. He went on ahead into the sand to set us up, then came back for me.

“Ready?”

For you to hold me again? Yes, please.

I gripped my crutches in one hand while Asher lifted me carefully. My vow of celibacy was hanging by a thread already, but to be in his arms… My body felt like it was molding itself to him, melting into his embrace where I felt perfectly safe and protected. I had to refrain from burying my face in his neck and inhaling deeply.

Asher trudged across the sand and gently helped me into one of the beach chairs. He propped my foot on the cooler and then sat beside me. It was quiet; there was no one around on the stretch of pristine sand for at least fifty yards in either direction. In front of us, the water was a beautiful deep blue with gentle waves bearded in white, crashing on the shore.

“You want to know how come it’s easy for me to give up New York,” Asher said, his eyes on the endless vista. “This is why.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, “but I don’t think—”

“Don’t think. Just look and listen and breathe.”

I nearly rolled my eyes, ready to make some snarky joke. Instead, I shut up and did what he said. I sat back and just looked. The ocean stretched into forever, a deeper blue than the sky that touched it on the horizon, with only a few wispy clouds overhead.

Minutes passed, and I glanced over at Asher. His face free of hard angles, his guard down. He looked peaceful.

He felt my glance and looked to me. “Well?”

“Sorry,” I said. “No major epiphanies.”

“It’s all right. It took me a while too.”

“To what?”

“To let it in.” He looked out over the ocean, his gruff voice losing its sarcastic edge. “It sounds stupid or cheesy, but I feel connected to something bigger when I sit with the ocean. Like I’m a part of something old and deep.” Asher grasped a handful of sand and let it sift through his fingers. “I felt untethered to anything real or permanent when I was a kid. Maybe this is me making up for it. But I’m grateful, and I think it’s the gratitude that makes me feel connected. I’m grateful to the ocean just for being here.”

I nodded mutely. I’d never heard anyone say something that personal, and certainly no one had thought to say something like that to me. I didn’t feel that same connection to the ocean, but listening to Asher just then, I felt like someday maybe I could. We sat in a softer silence for a while, and for once I didn’t feel the need to fill it up with gossip or chitchat or even questions about himself which I desperately wanted to ask.

Eventually, an older couple—maybe in their sixties—strolled up to us, smiling, her arm tucked in his.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the woman said, “but you are such a lovely couple, I can’t help but ask. Are you on your honeymoon?”

Asher shook his head. “No, we—”

I elbowed him to be quiet and rested my hand on his arm. “Yes, we are.”

The couple exchanged satisfied smiles. “We thought so. You just look so beautiful together, we had to say something.”