To the Beach and Back

Chapter 25

In the morning, I am awake and showered by five-thirty, despite crawling into bed at an ungodly hour. My reunion with Allyse last night was everything I had hoped for.

Tears.

Hugs.

And lots of conversation underneath a moonlit sky, strolling slowly along the ocean while Holda searched for the lost diamond tennis bracelet.

I told Allyse about my evening with Nick and our kiss on the bay, which she instant forgave with true understanding. She told me how she understands ... all too well, how easy it was to be drawn to Nick despite the way he can make a person feel horrible about themselves.

Which is what he did after disregarding her pain after the miscarriage by saying he was glad she lost their child.

Which is also why she came to Ocean City to help with Haven, despite them already being broken up.

"I wanted to meet you, Marcie," she had said as a boat sailed along the ocean horizon with only its lights visible. "I wanted to see what you were like. Nick always made you out to be the villain, blaming you for the divorce, never taking any responsibility for himself. And I admit that, at first, I sympathized with him. I listened to his stories, and I said things to make him feel better, because I understood his need for attention considering how he was raised. My parents were just the same. Demanding. Never satisfied with anything I did."

This is true.

Nick's father had always been harsh, making Nick feels as though he was never good enough. And looking back with a healthier perspective, I now understand why Nick always made me feel like the bad cop with Wesley. Because he wanted Wesley's love and attention.

He needed to be the good cop.

"Meeting you, Marcie, and finding out that you weren't the villain, that you were also hurt by Nick was ... healing. So damn healing," Allyse continued, a salty breeze blowing her blond hair off a shoulder. "Not enough to keep me from bolting home when he showed up, however."

She linked her arms into mine, giving me a squeeze. "I'm sorry for that, especially if you thought it had something to do with you. Because here's the thing. We all have shit." Allyse pauses, kneeling at the water's edge, sifting through the sand and watching as it slipped through her fingers. "Every single one of us. The trick is to be with someone who's shit doesn't hurt you and your shit doesn't hurt them."

Her words stopped me in my tracks, barely feeling the ocean water dancing around my bare ankles.

We all have shit. We all are flawed and imperfect, but the true damage happens when you're with someone whose issues hurt you and vice versa.

I had wanted to talk more about this, but we were interrupted by Holda's cheers after she found the missing bracelet.

The woman is amazing.

So is Allyse and as I sit on Ryan's front porch with a cup of coffee, I think about her fascinating concept.

Nick had shit, that's for sure.

Never living up to his father's expectations has always made him have a deep need to be loved, to be favored, to be the center of attention no matter how much air he sucked out of the room.

His shit hurt me.

And my shit ... my never-ending insecurities, my fears ... hurt him, making us unhealthy together.

It's as simple as that.

An hour later, Holda, Allyse and I join up with a group of leggings-clan ladies with yoga mats and trendy pink coffee tumblers on the boardwalk. Sunrise beach yoga has never been a goal of mine, but the girl whose tennis bracelet Holda found last night is an instructor who said we'd love her favorite beach activity, offering us a week of free classes as a thank you.