Page 165 of Just One More Thing

He nods.

I turn and start walking back up the jetty.

Again, the one doing the leaving.

Same as always.

I hear Hank arf as I step off the jetty onto the path.

It cracks the last of my composure right down the middle.

I run back to Holey Moley with tears trailing down my face.

I can’t sleep.

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the room shift deeper into night. I think about tomorrow.

Then a light flashes on the wall.

Once.

Twice.

I sit up.

The light comes again.

Morse code.

Even through the blur in my eyes, I can still make out the first message. Hi.

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. “I can’t do this.” I get out of bed, tug Jake’s jersey over my head, toss it onto the chair, and pull my suitcase from the closet. I pack fast. If I go slow, I won’t go at all.

The white linen dress from Dog Days. His gray Bucs sweatshirt. The boat shoes with sand still in them from our island.

The flashes on the wall stop.

I reach for the bkr and phone charger from the nightstand with clumsy fingers. The flashlight is there too.

I leave it.

I turn the knob on the door, giving the room one last glance over my shoulder.

Jake’s jersey sits on the chair by the window.

I open the door.

But I can’t leave it behind.

I rush back and pick it up.

I pull it against my face, gripping it tight with both hands, his number eleven pressed against my forearms.

“Jake.” I look out the window, across the water toward the boathouse.

I say goodbye the only way I can manage.

Silently.