All you areSunday afternoon in the rain I stood at the very edge of my cliff and I looked out over the sea, sand and grit and bits of concrete stuck to the bottoms of my bare feet, wet hair tangled from the wind, wrapped in one of Ben's big hoodies for warmth but I couldn't get warm.
I have made
All that I wanted
I gave to you
I have no sympathy
I show no mercy
All that I hated
I placed in you
Low tide.
I stepped closer and that was all it took for the house behind me to explode, doors opening, voices eaten by the roar of the wind in my ears.
The fastest runner reached me first. I could tell by the pattern of his feet and the lack of heavy breath. Caleb.
Princess.
I'm not going to jump, if that's what you think. I need to see them. This is as low as the tide is ever going to be.
Ben's voice next.
Bridget. Sweetheart. We really need to move those so you can see them safely. It's okay to make a mistake.
I've made so many, Benjamin.
No, you're doing pretty good, actually. But we can change them so it's easier.
This is fine.
Not for me.
These were for me and for the children.
And what do they have? They aren't allowed here.
I have ordered smaller plaques and a tree for each.
Isn't that good enough for you?
No.
What can I do, Bridget?
Let me come here without everyone freaking out.
I'm sorry, Bridget, I can't do that.
Traitor. You all want to forget about them.
Never, princess.
He took my hands and bent them up behind my back and held on a little too firmly and I knew that if I stepped away from him I wouldn't die. It's sad that I can't ever give these men that same kind of comfort. I have tried. I can't pull it off for stupid stunts like these.
He came around and stood beside me, still with the painful grip on both of my hands, and he leaned out over the edge.
I know why you did it.
Tell them.
I thought PJ would at least ask you not to come here alone.
He did.
So why are you here?
Because I don't listen.
Ben laughed. A short, sad laugh and he squeezed my hand.
I want to make it better. I thought this might help you, princess. Maybe I screwed up.
I could have installed her downtown in a safe location.
Caleb's voice broke in, a jarring reminder that there were eight other people watching our exchange.
Ben dropped my hands and turned to face Caleb. Caleb's face changed from contempt back into fear. I'm still standing right on the edge. One big gust of wind or rock slide and I'm at the bottom of the cliff where PJ installed the bronzed plaques engraved with the names of my dead husbands, their birth and death dates and one line I chose for each, which I won't share right now. He used concrete screws, and drove them in when the rocks were almost dry, the words facing the cliff so technically you can read them with binoculars from here but you can only see them at low tide and they are not accessible on foot, only by boat. He said it was a fool's errand and cursed me the entire time, and Chris held the ropes and didn't say a word. We don't have a boat. PJ rappelled down.
Ben-
She's not yours, asshole. Stop acting like him. You aren't Cole. She can't get Cole back. You're fucking with her head so bad. Just stop it.
I didn't have to turn around. Thanks to history, I was well aware that Ben would charge Caleb and probably knock him down onto the wet grass and then he'd let him get up just to hit him again. Then the others would intervene because it's not a fair fight. Ben only ever had a fair fight against Jacob. They were the same size. Everyone else is just dumb to pick a fight with someone who can't control their emotions.
With someone like me.
A different voice now. Sweet Daniel.
Bridget, come here.
I turned and wavered slightly and Lochlan closed his eyes. Praying. What the fuck.
Please, Bridget.
I shook my head.
Stop fighting. All of you. Just stop it. This isn't what I wanted. Go away.
We know, baby.
Ben stopped and helped Caleb up, and then came back toward me and I put my hand up.
It isn't PJ's fault, and it's not Chris'. Cole and Jacob belong there. I put them there and I want the, to stay there. Please. Please don't take them away.
What am I supposed to do Bridget? I can't put a safety net around this place. I can't watch you twenty-four hours a day.
That's why you have help. You're all my safety net.
When the trees come, and the other plaques, will you go there instead?
Unless someone comes with me here, then yes.
Oh, Jesus, Bridge, you're killing me. Come here.
He put his arms out and I left the edge and went into them, my customary face plant into the buttons on his flannel shirt a welcome shell-dotted warmth, the percussion of his heartbeat proof that he would keep his word and leave the plaques alone. He kissed the top of my head and I wrapped my arms around his back and looked up at him. Tired in the harsh light, sober and anxious, quietly smug in the display of affection that comes so easily for him while the rest wait for me to make the first move.
Lochlan turned and walked back up to the house, shaking the rain out of his hair. Caleb examined his clothing to see if he would be forced to drive back to the city to change before doing anything else and the others just watched. Quietly. Respectfully pretending to stare out to sea but honed in peripherally, ever mindful that Ben and I are the collective instabilities and when mixed together tend toward impulsive, dangerous pursuits. Mindful that we whisper and they usually miss it.
Who speaks the words you'll listen to, Bridget?
I don't know, Ben.
He just holds on tighter. I still have no answers and he's the only one alive who understands what this feels like.