In the Fire's Shadow

4. The Pier - Tom

Dara was nestled in my arms. Her thick curls splayed across the pillow behind her, like a Greek goddess. She looked so young and peaceful. I could have laid there forever. I wanted to.

I carefully hugged her body tight to me and rolled her over. After a quiet moment, I could hear her deep breathing continue, so I left.

Downstairs I found her dress and my suit jacket splayed on the floor. I gathered the clothes up, and the smell of wild berries hit me again. It was stronger now, somehow; stronger than it had been in the conference room, and stronger than it was on the porch.

It was stronger because, for the past four hours, my entirety had been immersed in Adara.

I sank down into the nearest sofa and was unable to move beyond that moment.

What did this mean? Does she want to stay here? With me? Does she still love me? Do I still love her?

I will always love her, but am I still in love with her? Am I still mad at her? Do I still blame her? My eyes widened. Did I blame her?

On the porch, I was ready to dismiss her accusations as childish and inaccurate, but sitting there alone, actually able to think...

Is she right?

It was illogical to think it was her fault, but as I circled the question around in my mind, it didn't seem so implausible anymore.

I did blame her, but there was something else. I wasn't sure what it was. I needed to figure it out, make a plan, but I didn't want to. It was too much already.

I leaned my head back against the smooth leather of the couch and wanted to melt into the cushions. The pressure in my chest swelled, along with the feeling of desolation.

Anger began to surface after a while. If she had just stayed away...

Unable to deal, I jumped up and went straight to the mud room. I found a clean pair of sweat pants and an undershirt in the dryer. My shoes were upstairs, and I couldn't go back there, so I opened the door to the garage and found a pile of clothes I had been meaning to donate. I grabbed an old pair of Nike's from the pile and ran out of the house.

The early morning air was cold, but it didn't register to me. I just needed the pavement.

It didn't take long for the familiar burning sensation to roll up and down my legs as I did my best to make my strides even and wide. The cold air filled my lungs and the fire spread.

I'm not sure how long I ran for. All I knew was that I needed to keep going. I pushed and pushed until I had nothing left.

The pavement soon disappeared and I realized I had run to Harvey Beach. I collapsed on the damp sand and continued to huff and puff until my breathing slowly returned to normal. The cold wind blowing across the waves should have chilled me to the bone, but I was numb.

I laid there long enough to see the sun start to rise over the water. It would have been breathtaking, had I not been so distracted. All I could see was Adara: always moving, always fighting, always on fire.

All the things I had loved so much about her were morphing into things I resented. She could never be still.

I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I didn't want to think about it. I never wanted to think about it. What good would any of that do, now? It was all in the past. She left. My son died. She didn't come back. There was nothing more than that.

I jumped up, ignoring the familiar burn, and ran; harder. The sand made me slower, but the burning intensified.

My legs pushed me further and further until my path became blocked by an old wooden pier. I could have turned around and run back, but I knew my legs were already angry with me. I walked up the ramp and down towards the end.