Red String [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 38

"And I'm sleepin' fine
I don't mean to boast
But I only dream about you
Once or twice a night at most"

Amy wakes up Friday morning, having slept somewhat better than the night before. She checks her phone and notices another email from Harry. She debates not opening it, not wanting to get into that headspace again. But when it comes to Harry, she can't seem to resist. She's never been good at saying no to him.

"Dear Amy,

Don't say no when you want to say yes. Please say yes.

Love,
Harry"

Those words that in the past had so instantly convinced her now left her angry. She wanted to tell him that he didn't say yes to her. He gave up on them before he had even given them a chance. And for the first time since him leaving her, she feels mad at him. Mad that he could just leave without talking about it. Mad that if he really wanted her to go that they could have tried long distance. Mad that he didn't care enough to ask her what she wanted to do, and just made the decision for them. She's always tried to put herself in his shoes and see him leaving from his point of view. But now, all she can see is red.

After some aggressive swimming in the pool followed by a cold shower, Amy is back in an Uber. She asks the driver to take her to a spot that's only popular with locals. They seem to drive for awhile and she thinks this driver is just trying to rack up the bill but then he pulls into a small parking lot along a beach. Amy thanks him and gets out of the car.

It's not until she's walking down the beach that the memory hits her. This is the same beach Harry took her to. She feels the memory wash over her and it's a mix of happiness and sadness. She's wishes she had realized where she was before the Uber had pulled away. She would never have gotten out of the car.

It's a warm day despite it being November and there are several groups of people on the beach. Amy is glad she wore shorts today with her swimsuit underneath, hoping to swim in the ocean again.

She walks up and down the beach, photographing from a distance the people she sees. She spots a couple splashing in the water together and then the man runs to the woman, picking her up and carrying her out deeper with him, the woman throwing her head back in laughter. The memory of Harry doing this to her burns. Burns like someone has put a hot fire poker to her skin. She thinks of all the ways in which Harry has branded her, leaving his mark on her. In ways that aren't easily erased.

She refocuses her lens on an older woman walking with what looks to be her grandchild, a young boy about three years old. He holds onto his grandmother's hand and pulls her along the beach, pointing at shells and other things that have washed onto the shore.

Amy watches some older kids building a huge sand castle with a moat around it. Watches them take bucket after bucket of water to fill it with water. While the rest of the kids lose interest quickly, one little girl never loses focus and seems determined to make it the best castle ever. Amy admires her tenacity.