Do you see us there? The two people making out like they can’t get enough in the hot tub?
They can’t. They won’t. But it’s pure and true.
Do you remember when this story began? Well, you weren’t there for the very beginning—the part when I met Rhya—but you remember the guy on the floor, right?
Do I resemble him anymore? I don’t, do I?
And that’s because of her. Scarlet. She came into my life for a reason and completely turned it around for the better.
Scarlet doesn’t want anything from me. Well, she wants something. We all want something. What I mean is what I can give her. Sexually of course, but maybe love, too. Definitely love.
I’ll tell you something else. She’s nothing like Rhya. She doesn’t take with the intent to destroy me; she gives me what I need, selflessly.
Love. Without anything asked for in return.
I’m twenty-two, and I know exactly who I am.
I know what money and fame can buy, and it has nothing to do with happiness.
If you chase money, you’ll spend very little time doing what you want. If you chase what you love, the happiness you have in turn is worth more than what the money can buy.
Another piece of advice?
Fate doesn’t decide everything in your life.
“What are you thinking about?” Scarlet asks, drawing my attention to her sky blue eyes.
“You,” I admit, winking at her.
Beside us, Tiller splashes Camden in the face with water. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home in bed?”
Camden shrugs, reaching for the raft in the pool and attempting to get on it. “Dad’s out of town. I don’t want to be at home so I said I was staying at a friend’s house.”
Tiller reaches in the cooler he placed by the pool, a Pepsi in the other hand and gives it to Camden. “You mean to tell me your mom is home alone?”
“Stepmom,” Camden points out, taking the Pepsi from him.
I take a hold of Scarlet, my hands on her hips remembering the way she felt against my body earlier. I bet I could have sex with her in here and they wouldn’t even notice. “So, are you okay with being a California girl now?”
Do you notice the way she looks into my eyes? This girl loves me. “I think I can handle it. How are the winters?”
I wink, kissing her cheek and then pulling back to move up away from Tiller and Camden. “Warm and moist.”
She frowns, then makes a gagging sound. “You did not just say moist.”
I grin knowing her aversion to the word. “I did. What are you going to do about it?”
“Show you what moist really means.”
“Not in front of the kids,” I tease. And then I ask, “What are you going to do about Seattle?”
Scarlet considers my question for a moment, but then replies with, “I think it’s time I left that part of my life where it belongs, behind me, in Seattle.”
Her legs tighten around my waist, her arms loosely draped over my shoulders. “You won’t miss it?”
She runs her fingers through my wet hair and then over the back of my neck, tracing along the raised edges of my scar. “I’ll miss my friends, sure, but with Izzy married, Mila getting married soon. . . they have lives. My life is here.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And Tom?” You didn’t think I forgot about him, did you?
Scarlet snorts, knowing exactly where I was going with that one. “He’s living in my apartment with my eighteen-year-old neighbor girl and a dog. Pretty sure he won’t miss me.”
I search her eyes and I see nothing but love for me and assurance that this is what she wants. “So you’re staying. . . for me?”
“I’m staying for us.”
So here we are. The end, yet, the beginning in a lot of ways. This right here, the two of us in the hot tub—ignore Tiller, he doesn’t matter—this is our love story, and it’s just getting started.
Did you feel the connection along the way? Did you notice the tie between us before I did?
It took me a while to realize it, as I didn’t know about Asher, but Scarlet said one thing to me I’ll never forget, and I knew then Asher had done something similar to Rhya. It was when she talked about the selfish sides of suicide. Only someone who’s experienced that would understand.
The interesting thing is Scarlet never once said suicide was selfish. And for a while, I thought it was, only not selfish on Rhya’s part, but on mine for thinking I had anything to do with it.
Do you remember the letter? Though I no longer have it, the words are ingrained in my brain. Mostly this part. “Where I end, you begin. . .”
That’s why I blamed myself for what she did, but I shouldn’t. I can’t.
I don’t know what Rhya, or Asher, was thinking in their final moments. But I do know when you are that desperate to escape the troubling thoughts consuming you, your reason fails. You can’t process anything clearly. That’s what addiction and mental illness do to the ones its holding hostage.
It convinces you nothing matters. It convinces you those thoughts are endless and you’ll never escape. You’re permanently fucked.
For a long time, I wanted to make sense of why Rhya did it. Maybe then I could move on. And then Scarlet came into my life and I realized it didn’t have to make sense and the choice Rhya made in that moment wasn’t mine to criticize because I didn’t live her life.
I’ve never battled substance abuse or addiction, but I loved someone who did, and that at times was terrifyingly heavy. Scarlet understands it.
I can no longer say suicide is cowardly. It’s not weakness. It’s not selfish. It’s anything but that. It’s a decision made in isolation. It’s depression that eats you alive. It’s a hopelessness, a controlling devil darkening your mind and convincing you there’s no other way out. And until you’ve been there, you don’t get to pass judgment.
I heard someone once say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and they’re right—but Rhya didn’t see it like that. I see it now, nearly a year later—she did the best she could in the worst seconds of her life. For once in her life, I think the second she pulled the trigger, she was selfless in the sense that it had nothing to do with me.
So where does that leave me?
Not relieved. No, I wouldn’t say that. I’d say living again. Believing there’s hope for more and knowing someone understands me and gives me what I deserve.
Do you see the way Scarlet’s looking at me? Do you see the love?
I do. Now I look at those words, “Where I end, you begin. . .” differently. I see it for its underlying meaning. For me anyway.
When one love ends, another begins.
I don’t give a shit about who you fall in love with first. It doesn’t matter. You know what does matter? The one you love after that first love. Why? Because they taught you it still fuckin’ exists.