The Surfer's Heart

Chapter 14

Sean

"A lot has happened since Brooke's death. I can't believe it's been two years already," Amy said with a sigh as we sat on the beach together: the same beach that Brooke and I went on our first date. This place was a place of grieving, loss, pain, and regret. Not only had I almost met my own fate here, but it was also a special place where I had grown to love someone other than myself for a chance. I learned to be a better person. I learned to open up. I learned to trust again.

Then that all got ripped away. In a brief moment, my girlfriend was brutally murdered by a ravenous, rogue shark. We had so much going for us and then it was all ripped away.

I suppose it's a different kind of place now. Amy and I have made it an annual thing to come here and reminisce about the life of one of the greatest people who's changed our lives for the better. I didn't want to do it the first year; I couldn't even think of setting foot on this beach again, but Amy made a good point. Brooke wouldn't have wanted that. This was her favorite place. She wouldn't have wanted us to taint it negatively just because she was gone.

"What would you have done differently if you knew it was the last time you'd ever see her?" Amy asked while digging her toes further into the sand. It always bothered me how nonchalantly Amy talked about Brooke's death, but everyone deals with things differently. One time we got in a fight about it and that's when I knew it was her way of coping. She had lost her best friend. I lost my girlfriend.

Well, I would like to think she was my girlfriend. I guess I never got to officially ask her. One of the many regrets I carry with me to this day.

"I would have asked her to be my girlfriend," I mumbled, tossing a rock towards the water's edge. The waves crashed calmly against the shore, beating to a steady rhythm as the sun crept towards the horizon. We were hoping for a good sunset tonight. That's how we knew Brooke was with us; at least that's what Amy claimed.

Amy nodded in acceptance as she tossed a stone in the same direction I did. This was how we kept busy and kept from getting too emotional; we threw rocks or drew doodles in the sand. It kept us sane as we talked about the harder stuff.

"You?" I asked.

Amy's mouth twisted as she thought for a moment, her eyes distant.

"I would have told her to forgive herself," Amy said. She twisted her mouth again, a habit she did to prevent herself from crying. I've gotten to know Amy well over the last two years, including her tells when she's getting emotional.

"What do you mean?" I asked while throwing another rock.

"I don't think she forgave herself for lying to us. She felt like it was her fault and it wasn't. We were all just processing different things and needed time, but it was never intended to hurt her," Amy explained. She was talking about the big blow-up before Brooke's competition.

I always thought about how guilty I would have felt if I never went to her competition. What if I would have never apologized to her? What if I would have never told her how much I wanted her? What if she died thinking I hated her? The thoughts haunted me to this day.

"Do you think there's anything good that came out of her death?" Amy asked.

I spun my head around to face her, anger striking across my features as my eyebrows furrowed.

"How could you say that? What good could have possibly come from her dying so young?" I spat. The question disgusted me. There was no good in the situation. What a sadistic and narcissistic thought process to have about such a tragic accident. How could she say something like that about her best friend's death?