Fuck, I wish the banging in my head would stop. But it won’t. Every time that I think it will, it keeps pounding again and again. “Krane,” I hear my name and open my eyes, the light of day blinding me. “Krane, open up!”

I stumble from the couch, still drunk, and open the door. Standing so beautifully with two coffees and a brown bag in hand is Ivy. She turns her head from me and says, “Fuck, at least put some pants on.”

I look down at my half hard cock and cover it with one hand. “Sorry,” I say and turn searching for my jeans which are nowhere in sight. Walking towards the bedroom, I spot them on the floor and look back to see Ivy staring at my ass. “You can come in, Ivy.”

She shakes her head as if to clear some bad thoughts from it and I laugh to myself, putting my jeans on. I look for my shirt and remember that I jerked off in it when I got home; thinking of fucking Casey got me going.

Picking another shirt out of my closet, I walk back out into the living room where Ivy is sitting on the couch, taking the food from the bag. “What happened last night?” she asks.

And I’m reminded that I completely blew her off. I trust that she really doesn’t want to know what happened, so I lie. “Uhh, I got called to fight in the city and my fucking cell phone died. See?” I show her the black screen, knowing that I am horrible with charging the piece of shit, ‘cause Zoë always did that for me.

“Did you win?” she asks.

“Yup, took him to the ground and snapped his arm in an arm-bar before the ref could call it.”

“God, that’s crazy. No wonder your face looks so good.”

“You like my face, do you?” I tease her.

She slaps my arm and I raise my hands signaling a truce, and say, “I was only joking.”

She nods and passes me a breakfast sandwich. “Thank you,” I say.

“Of course.” She looks away from me and I worry that something is bothering her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I just…I had a rough night last night, again.”

“Ivy, you gotta let it go. Each day, you have to focus on you. We can’t keep telling the other to do one thing and not do it ourselves.”

She nods a few times, listening to me, and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m trying, but I had a horrible dream last night about her dying and now I just keep envisioning her that way. It’s like that’s the only way I remember her now.”

“No, Ivy. You can’t do that. She deserves more from you. It was a dream. Push it away. It’s not real.”

“I know, but it’s like it’s burned into my mind,” she responds with tears in her eyes staring at the carpet.

Taking her coffee, I set it down and grab both of her hands. “Look at me.”

Her pain-filled eyes are red and glassy and I just want to take her pain away. Then I get an idea, something that might help. “Come with me and let me show you something?” She looks confused, but nods her head, and I place our food back in the bag and the coffees in the tray. Grabbing her hand, I lead her outside and down to my truck. “Where are we going?” she asks me as I help her up.

“It’s better if I show you.”

She buckles her seatbelt and I hand her the tray. She sets it on her lap and I jog around the vehicle. Getting in, my head is still pounding, but I know the fresh air and sound of the waves will help me, like it does every day.

We make the trek to Long Beach, Zoë’s favorite place in the entire world, and I park in my usual spot. Ivy looks out the window and says, “I’m not really dressed for the beach.”

“Me neither, just come with me.” I grab a towel from my back seat and tuck it under my arm. Taking the food from her, we step onto the soft white sand. I never told Ivy or anyone that Zoë asked me to bring her here before she died. My mom knows I go to Long Beach every day, but she thinks it’s just to clear my mind.

Seagulls swirl in the air and a few families are scattered around enjoying a day in this amazing place. “This was Zoë’s favorite beach,” I tell Ivy and hand her a sandwich, laying the towel down. We each remove our flip-flops and sit side by side, facing the water.

Ivy looks out at the expansive sea, letting out a deep breath of air that she has been holding. “We used to come here as kids for family vacations,” she says.

“I know,” I respond, “She told me…every summer.”

“Yup. Do you come here often?” she asks me.

“Every day.”

She looks at me a bit perplexed and asks, “Why?”

I stretch my legs out and lean back on my arms in preparation to go back to that place, the one place I hate to revisit. “The night Zoë…passed...” Tears fill my eyes, imagining her so helpless as she fought for her life. “She…she had asked me to bring her here the next day. I promised I would and even being in so much pain after losing her, I came. And have every day since. It’s the place that I feel closest to her.” Pain reels through me, reliving the events, and I finally pull my eyes away from the water, glancing at Ivy who is quiet. She is crying herself watching the waves.

I hoped bringing her here would help, but it seems to have only hurt her more. Taking my arm, I sling it over her shoulder and hug her tight against my body. She clings to me crying and I hold her close to me, where both of us can just…be.