In Waves | ✔️

73 | when everything begins

With Rob still in the hospital, every day it strikes me how empty the house feels, despite him hardly being in it anyway. I guess it just shows how loud he is, even if that only entails eating breakfast or watching TV, he knows how to leave a noisy signature wherever he goes.

We've also been going through far less food without him here. Renato hasn't even needed to give us any restaurant leftovers. I think he's just been taking them to the hospital, giving them straight to the raccoon himself. Rob is getting better with every visit too. Some days he's in more pain than others, but he's still getting better.

For a while he was bummed that he'll be missing most of the baseball season, if not all of it, but now he's at the point where he's excited about his broken leg. Mainly because it's going to get him out of waiting tables and doing anything that requires effort, but hey, at least he's looking on the upside.

For me, this week has been a constant divide between home and the hospital. I haven't seen Matt, although he's been texting me, and I've only seen Nate when we've crossed paths visiting Rob, and we haven't been texting at all.

I keep thinking that the new year will give me all the answers. Give me some epiphany that fresh starts are meant to give, like a mere date on a calendar can make all the difference. But when I reach the night before New Year's Eve, I still don't feel like I'm any closer to that fantastical epiphany I'm holding out for.

Just before midnight, on the cusp of being twenty-four hours from a clean slate of a year, my phone buzzes.

N: Can you come out front? I'd climb the tree but, arm.

I jump out of bed and look through the window, seeing his figure idling by the sidewalk, glancing up from his phone. I back up and scramble for my shoes, pulling them on as I make my way down the stairs as soundlessly as I can.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"Yeah. I didn't wanna risk busting my other arm getting up to the roof, but I brought you something." He dips his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a little cardboard box. "Late Christmas present."

I curiously take it, my mouth dropping open when I see the ocean blue butterfly shell inside, intact and unblemished. "Nate, oh my gosh!" I can't stop myself from launching into him, my joy bursting out in the form of a hug as I avoid squishing his broken arm and the delicate shell. He laughs against me, holding my head before I draw away. "Where'd you find it?"

"Near the tide pools. Nowhere we haven't looked before," he says, watching me study it. "Guess all we needed to do was go balls to the wall and spend an entire day looking. Sunrise to sunset."

My beam flickers. "You did not spend the whole day looking for this."

"I did." He chuckles, giving a shrug. "Can't surf anymore, so what else am I gonna do?"

"Sleep! You're meant to be recovering!"

"I can recover better at the beach than I can in my bed."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I shake my head, trailing my fingertip over the shell. "Thank you, this is for sure one of the best presents I've ever gotten."

"It'll still be better when you find your own shell."

"Maybe, but if I don't then I'm totally okay with only having this one." I pull my gaze from the butterfly, meeting his eyes. "How come you're giving this to me in the middle of the night, though? I would've seen you around the hospital."

"We're never alone at the hospital, and I wanted to tell you that I..." he falters, his chest rising with his steady breath. "I don't think I can do this anymore, Lia."