Page 77 of The Surfer

27

COVE

The surfboard is still exactlywhere I had thrown it earlier by the beach cliffs. It lies there like an abandoned baby.

My baby.

The same board I learned to surf on when I was a teenager, thrown away exactly like I had thrown Ripley’s emotions away. Sighing, I bend over and pick the surfboard up, brushing off the sand that’s stuck to the fiberglass board.

I shouldn’t have thrown you like that when you’ve been nothing but good to me. I’m sorry.

Carrying the surfboard under my arm, I stroll to the edge of the beach where the sand meets the raging ocean. The wet sand is cold against my toes. At the edge of the water, I take in a long deep breath, bringing in that fresh smell of both salt and sun deep into my lungs, and I survey the clear horizon. This secret beach is where some of the best moments of my life have happened. These last few weeks teaching Ripley to surf has healed my soul and have been, undoubtedly, the best thing to ever occur to me, and I’ve wrongly thrown it all away. I’ve wrongly thrown Ripley away.

Just like my board.

But now I am back to reclaim them.

I’ve been so lucky. So lucky to have Ripley in my life and yet I threw it all away because of a stupid temper tantrum.

Those last few words I said to her painfully sting me. Fuck of back to America. I can’t believe I told her that. Such cruelty to someone so pure.

Fuck. I’ve been such an asshole. I’ve thrown away the one person who truly loves me.

It’s time to make it right.

I’d hoped, coming to the beach, that Ripley would still be here waiting for me.

She isn’t.

Of course, she isn’t.

She wasn’t going to wait around for me, not after the way I treated her. My American girl is stronger than that.

She might be flying back right now, flying back because of me, flying back because I’ve been a world-class number one idiot.

She might already be in a plane right now far above me heading home.

Fuck.

I take in one more deep breath of the ocean and then I reach into my pants, pulling out my phone. I find Ripley’s name and call her.

The ringtone runs out. She hasn’t picked up.

Yeah, she could be in the sky right now.

It could be too late.

Fuck, this is all your fault, Cove.

If I hadn’t insulted her like that, if I hadn’t freaked out in the shitty way I did, she’d still be here. I’d still be with her. But instead, I went crazy because of my own stupid insecurities and I threw her away like she means nothing to me.

But she means the world to you, doesn’t she, Cove? And now she’s gone and it’s all your fault.

There’s only one way out of this, there’s only one way to get her back - if she even wants to come back to me – and that’d be to own my stupid mistakes and prove myself to her. Prove how much she means to me. She might already be on a plane to America, but I’d still prove myself to her.

I have to.

I pick up my phone again but this time, instead of calling her, I write out a short message.