I still texted her when I couldn’t bear to let her think that she was off my mind. But even those, I let dwindle to once a day, then every other day, and then every third day.

Guilt infected everything. Guilt about how I’d treated Ari, how I’d talked to her, for not going after her, for not doing enough. Guilt about how I’d treated Sydney, how I’d treated the guys, how selfish I’d been in everything I’d been doing for months…years. I was no better than my old man. That much was becoming a pretty obvious fact. Self-sabotage was the name of the game, and I was the goddamn reigning champion.

Normally, in these situations…well, shit, I’d never been in this kind of situation. But when I got down, I usually overindulged in anything that would make me forget. Everything made me think about her though. I didn’t want to drink. I didn’t want to smoke. I didn’t have the energy to think about anyone but her, so there was no way I was going near women. A fucking blizzard had ripped through Jersey, so I couldn’t ride my bike. The only thing I still had was my guitar, and her song seemed to be the only one I remembered.

“Are you going to mope around all break?” Sydney asked a few days before Christmas.

I’d apologized to her as soon as she’d gotten back from the ski lodge. She’d brushed it off like it didn’t matter and told me it just ranked right up there with my other bizarre behavior. Really reassuring.

“I’m not moping.”

“You are so moping!”

I just shrugged. I didn’t want to argue with her. I started strumming out “Life Raft” for the hundredth time, and Sydney groaned.

“Stop playing that song. Can’t you just…I don’t know…find someone else?”

My eyes shot daggers at her.

“All right, all right. Bad idea.”

“She just needs time.”

“Has she spoken to you at all since she left?”

I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t consider that she had moved on. My life was hanging on the edge of disaster with those thoughts constantly swirling through them. I didn’t need the push that would send it into a spiral of chaos.

“Look, cuz,” she said, sinking into the seat next to me, “I know this is hard on you, but you need to do something else, something to get your mind off of her.”

“Like what? Everything that I’ve ever done in the past just conjures up more memories.”

“I don’t know. Just do something productive. Go work out or go for a run or go work for Randy again. Sitting here and thinking about her all day is only going to make you depressed. You were never exactly chipper, but this…this isn’t you.”

I ran a hand back through my hair and tried to listen to reason. Sydney was right. Ari was on my mind 24/7 and if I didn’t get myself together, her walking out of my life was going to destroy me.

“All right then.”

Sydney and I drove to Duffie’s, and I smiled at the old familiar feeling at seeing the building. A long line of people greeted us when we entered. The hostess recognized Sydney. They hugged and started talking rapidly. That was my cue.

I wandered back to the kitchen and found my aunt and uncle where I’d always found them before. Randy was busy making pizza dough from scratch while young servers busied themselves around him. Carol was sitting at a cash register, ringing out customers and making change. It felt…homey.

“Grant!” Carol said with a big smile on her face. “How wonderful to see you, honey.”

“Hey, Aunt Carol, Uncle Randy.”

“Sydney get you out of the house?” Randy asked with a knowing glint.

So, he had been behind this.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

A white apron was launched at my head, and I caught it easily with one hand. I laughed. It felt good to have something to laugh about.

“We have a lot of work to do.”

The pizza place closed at midnight. I stayed after to wipe down tables and refill Parmesan and red pepper flake containers. The steady motion of running the restaurant had kept my mind occupied and had given me a blissful reprieve from my thoughts. When I finished around one in the morning, I closed up shop. Instead of going straight home, I turned and walked out onto the beach.

I’d been avoiding the beach at all costs. It had once been my place of solitude—just me and the crashing waves, the sand between my toes, the salty air. Peaceful, serene, entrancing. But I’d brought Ari here. I’d shared my favorite place in the world with her, and now, it wasn’t mine. It was ours.

I was exhausted from working hard all day, and I wanted to feel a piece of her when I couldn’t be anywhere near her. The only time we’d ever been closer was when I’d told her about my parents. We’d connected on such a strong emotional level that she’d given me her body. I couldn’t have either of those things right now, so I gave myself the beach as a small consolation.