When I could feel safe in Roman’s arms.
I took in his scent.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I knew he was still affected by it. A childhood of abuse didn’t just go away.
“I didn’t tell you this to make you feel sorry for me.”
“I know,” I whispered.
But now I imagined a little boy who looked just like Roman but wasn’t Roman.
He had my eyes.
What would it be like if I had a child with Roman?
How would things work out with what he did for a living?
And why was I even entertaining that idea?
I shouldn’t.
I shook away the thought and burrowed closer into him. He tightened his arms around me, and we didn’t say anything for the rest of the night.
6
ROMAN
I’d only beento the ocean once. I was ten.
It happened right after our mom passed, and Micah—being the good big brother that he was—wanted to cheer up his broken brother, even when he was hurting himself.
I didn’t know why he thought bringing us to a large body of water would help, considering the way our mom had died, but Micah took us out to the ocean, nonetheless, and he stole a sailboat. I didn’t know what he was thinking that day, but he had been determined to get as far out as possible.
At some point, he stopped and just lay there, looking up at the bright blue skies, tears dripping down the sides of his face.
I didn’t say anything about that, and neither did he.
As young as I had been, I knew I needed to give him a moment to mourn quietly.
So while he looked up at the sky, probably wondering if there was a God or heaven, and if so, perhaps our mom had made it there and felt no more pain, I looked down at the ocean.
At the blue-green water just within reach.
And I felt my heart racing from all the possibilities the ocean held. A world that would always be beyond my reach, knowing I would sooner plunge to my death than I would ever discover its secrets.
And fuck, a part of me wanted that so fucking bad.
It was the first time I had ever contemplated taking my own life.
It would have been so simple, too.
I didn’t know how to swim. It was a risk Micah took, taking us so far out, but we weren’t thinking back then.
We were just two boys, drowning in the grief of losing our mother to such a horrible, ugly death, and we didn’t know what to do with ourselves.
Micah looked up at the sky as if he wanted to fly, and I looked down at the ocean as if I wanted to drown, and it had felt like such a relief to admit that.
