While It Lasts (Sea Breeze #3)(30)

I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “Yeah, she is.”

“You think that’s funny?” Cage asked trying to sound stern but the teasing tone in his voice was unmistakable.

“Yes. I do.”

Cage grinned then looked down at the ground. I knew he was waiting on me. He may have asked me to come out here but it was because he was still waiting on answers. He deserved them.

“I was engaged,” I started and couldn’t find the right words.

Cage didn’t pressure me but waited silently beside me.

“Josh died in Baghdad a year and a half ago,” I managed to say without choking up.

Cage didn’t turn his head to look at me. There was no pity and no empty condolences. I wasn’t sure what I expected from him but his calm acceptance of this wasn’t it.

“I know. Jeremy told me the Friday before your drunken escapade.”

Jeremy had told him? Why?

“But you never said anything,” I said, trying to wrap my head around the fact Jeremy had betrayed me. He’d broken a confidence. He had known I didn’t want Cage to know.

“I wanted you to be the one to tell me.” He finally shifted his gaze off the ground and turned his head to look at me. There was no pity in his pale blue depths, just understanding. “It was your story. If you wanted me to know you’d tell me. Then when you didn’t after that day in the lake I was angry. Hurt. I’d hoped you understood that this wasn’t a game to me.”

He’d known all along. Never once had he treated me differently. He hadn’t handled me with kid gloves. I reached over and covered his hand with mine. He flipped his over and threaded his fingers through mine then squeezed.

“When you came to my room upset the other night. I knew why. I wanted to be the one to hold up while you cried and dealt with the coming change. But you wouldn’t let me in. I’ve never wanted in, Eva. Not until you.”

Swallowing was hard with the lump forming in my throat. I needed to tell him more. If we were going to have a summer fling, just be friends or whatever we were going to end up being the next two months I wanted him to know.

“He was my best friend. We’d been inseparable since we were five years old. He was my first kiss. My first date.” I felt the familiar burn in my nose as my eyes filled with tears. I had to do this. I had to share this with him. “We were going to grow old together. But he didn’t come home.” Cage released his hold on my hand and slipped his arm around my shoulder pulling me up against his side. I laid my head on his chest and let the last tears I knew I would cry over Josh Beasley fall.

We didn’t talk. He didn’t ask me for more than I was willing to share. Instead, he just held me. His hand gently rubbed up and down my arm and he placed kisses on my head from time to time. Other than that, we just sat there in silence.

*

After I’d left Cage at the lake I came back up to the house and went to my room. The guitar in the corner sat in its case reminding me daily that it was once a part of me too. I’d managed to take off the ring. I’d conquered driving the Jeep. I wanted to play again. I closed my bedroom door and walked over to my bed directly across from the guitar case. The stickers that Josh had bought me over the years covered every square inch of the black case. I’d hated the black case when Daddy had brought it home. When I’d outgrown my first guitar he’d gone to buy me a new one. I’d wanted a cool case. The simple black case had been so boring. Josh had come over that night to see my new guitar and I’d told him how unhappy I was with the ugly case. The next day he’d shown up with a couple of funny bumper stickers and put them on the case. I’d laughed and told him it was perfect. Over the next couple of years he’d brought me stickers from places he went, or just random ones he’d come across and thought I’d like.

This was going to be the hardest hurdle but I’d lost so much when Josh had died. I wanted to get some of it back. My music was something I missed. Reaching for the case, I picked it up and laid it down on the bed beside me. Opening the lid slowly my heart picked up its pace as I took in the sight of the smooth wood and familiar pick stuck in the strings. The notebook where all my songs were written was tucked safely under the neck. I wouldn’t play those songs. Not yet. Small steps.

With reverence I took my old friend out of its velvet lined case. Tonight I would just tune it. That would be enough for now. Holding it in my arms, I closed my eyes at the familiar feeling. It was as if I’d come home. My eyes stung with unshed tears as the emotion that came with being able to hold it in my arms again sank in.

I began tuning it as I strummed each string. The simple melody surrounded me. The world around me fell away. Just like before, it was just me and my music. Every emotion I’d held inside over the past year and a half began to bleed out into the music. I played through my sorrow, my anger, my bitterness, my forgiveness and finally the hope that was slowly taking root inside me.

My out-of—practice fingers began to numb and I slowed to a stop. The wetness on my face surprised me. They weren’t sad tears. Not this time. This time they were happy tears. Maybe there would be a tomorrow after all.

The sound of clapping startled me and I opened my eyes to see my daddy standing in the doorframe. His eyes were watery and a smile tilted up each corner of his mouth. “That’s my girl,” he said in a husky voice thick with emotion. “You don’t know how good it was to come inside and hear that sound.” He pressed his lips together tightly and inhaled deeply through his nose. “I look forward to hearing more of that.” He nodded once in approval and then headed on down the hall to his room.