Promise Me Not

by Meagan Brandy

“Just a little water,” he whispers, erasing the stupid tear that slipped without permission.

I’m talking that gravity-defying, soul-defining, epic love story shit. She has that. I want that. Fuck.

A frustrated groan leaves me, and I glance toward Noah, but he isn’t looking at me anymore. A slow smile is spreading across his face, a faraway look taking over, and I don’t have to turn to know who stepped out onto the deck. “Sister,” I call out to test my theory. “Brother.”

I don’t understand how anyone could ever hate the beach. To be honest, I have no idea where I would be right now without it. The waves, while unforgiving, don’t judge. The sun doesn’t sear you with worried eyes and taut expressions. The wind doesn’t push for words when you don’t feel like talking. The sand doesn’t crunch beneath your feet like the eggshells everyone seems to walk on around me. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m scared, little man,” he whispers. “Your mama’s avoiding me, and I have no idea what to do about it.” He goes quiet for a moment, and I struggle to breathe, staring at my son’s hand as it opens, his tiny fingers wrapping around Mason’s thumb. Mason’s lips spread into a wide grin, a soft, quiet chuckle slipping free. “This your way of telling me you won’t let me go?” A knot forms in my throat, and I lock my hand around my neck. Suddenly, Mason’s face falls, and he bends, his forehead now resting on the edge of the crib. “Please don’t let me go.”

He’s right. I am avoiding him, and he did come here three times this summer. According to the messages I left on read, the only reason he came…was for me. My eyes fall to Deaton, who plays happily in the warm water, and I know that’s not right. Mason didn’t come home for me. He came for us.

“Just so you know,” he begins. “It’s okay not to be okay…even if it’s not for the reason everyone thinks.”

“Hey, Mason!” Deaton calls not five seconds after we break from the others. We glance back, and Deaton’s eyes lock with mine. “You got my family in your hands.”

“I’ve got you, Pretty Little. I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve been here.”

I thought no one knew what today was, and I didn’t want the worry—or pity—of mentioning it. But someone did know. He knew. He knew and he came.

Pretty Little’s trying to be so strong, fighting the voices screaming in her head.

I was a controlling asshole when it came to protecting my sister, but I was a feral fucker when it came to Payton.

“I’m dead serious. I can’t compete with a ghost, so I won’t,” I promise. “He can keep your heart for all eternity. Just let me hold you for all of mine.”