Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (23 page)

BOOK: Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion)
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Aria wasn’t sure if she was able to explain what she felt—the feeling of being consumed with love and loss at the same time.

“I’m fine,” Aria assured her.

Looking at Aimee with tear filled eyes, she held her composure.

“I can’t describe to you what I’m feeling, because I’ve never quite understood it myself. Being near the ocean has always given me the most peaceful feelings. It’s why you’ll always find me near the water—but here, being next to the ocean and seeing
this
sky, makes me feel very, very small…and very overwhelmed with the beauty. It helps me to put my thoughts and worries into perspective.”

She turned to her friend to give her a hug. Aimee then saw what Declan described when he’d said no one had eyes like
Aria’s eyes
.

“I might never have taken the opportunity to experience this if you hadn’t invited us, so…thank you.”

She lightly kissed Aimee on the cheek.

Aimee offered her a warm hug and a beautiful smile. She thought Aria was one of the sweetest people in the world—and she thought she was perfect for Declan.

“You’re welcome, honey,” she said. “I hope you feel the same way when the trip is over. I really wanted you to come.”

Paige, not wanting this to turn into a sob fest
,
made an attempt to tone down the emotional tone of the conversation.

“We’re all a little over the top from the alcohol,” she said.

She walked up behind both girls and put an arm around their shoulders. She then gave Aimee a little squeeze and also kissed her on the cheek.

“I want to thank you, too. It has been a great trip so far.”

She broke into an ornery smile as she continued.

“Your bartender makes the best Mai Tai’s!”

Aimee broke into laughter. “You got that right, girl! Only the best for us!”

As Paige and Aimee went to refill their glasses, Aria walked out onto the lanai to sit back and enjoy the remainder of the sunset. Her thoughts were easier to comprehend while resting in the beauty of the seemingly never-ending ocean and the peaceful breezes. One thing forever remained a constant, no matter where she was—nothing filled the void that Declan’s absence had created.

These past months had been tough. The EMDR therapy had most definitely worked and every single detail of what she saw at the accident scene was now clear in her consciousness. Knowledge was a very powerful thing. Although her newfound awareness freed her from the grip of guilt, everything that had occurred that day now tainted and changed her thoughts of the future. She still examined the events of that day, constantly questioning how she’d resolve what her impetuous conclusions of the scene had led her to do.

Knowing Declan loved her, and having gained perspective, she’d bet her last dollar that Marisol was the instigator of what she witnessed at the house that day. Now that the accident scene had been clarified, everything about that day now seemed to fall into place.

How to tell him? When to tell him? Would it even matter?

She wanted the opportunity to talk to him, and at least tell him that she was sorry for doubting him that day. Her initial reaction of mistrust had hurt their relationship—not just everything that had happened after. The events that followed were unfortunate, downright devastating in fact, but Dr. Sumner had convinced her that it was imperative for her recovery to let go of the guilt connected with it. She couldn’t do anything to change what had happened in the past; all she could do was determine to live a better and brighter future.

Before leaving for Hawaii, she’d had dinner with Jeannie and told her what had happened in therapy—what memories had been clarified. She could tell that her mother was livid with rage at the discovery of all the details, but Aria told her not to get involved; that she’d find her own way to deal with all of it. Jeannie wanted her to phone Declan immediately, and tell him what had transpired that day, and all that she remembered, but Aria said that she was afraid that he might not believe her. She said that she needed some time of her own to figure out how best to handle the situation. In attempting to do that, Aria confessed to her mother that her negative feelings toward him were being replaced with more positive ones, and she hoped that one day, maybe, they’d at least become friends again. The thought was very bittersweet for her.

Returning her concentration to the heavens, she watched as darkness filled the sky. A thought occurred and she decided that what she needed to do was put an end to these melancholy thoughts and let loose to have some fun with the girls!

Looking in at her friends, she knew that they were exactly the ladies that she could count on to accomplish that goal!
Who knew? Maybe someone would come along, at least for a little while, to take her mind off of Declan, and a little island flirtation couldn’t hurt!

With her glass in hand, she stretched up to ease the tense thoughts and then twirled, dancing like a little girl as she followed the sound of the laughter. It was time to cast cares aside, join the party, and have a refill…

 

 

Carter had grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator and went to join Declan on the lanai of the cottage. While Blake showered, he took advantage of the time alone to sequester his brother, seeing if he was okay after their unexpected, and unannounced, intrusion.

While Declan initially appeared irate, it didn’t take long for him to calm down. He said that he was okay with them showing up without warning him, but when he grabbed a beer and went to sit by himself, Carter wasn’t sure if he was more shaken than he let on.

Pulling a lounge chair over, Carter eased down into it and placed a beer by his brother’s foot.

“You pissed that we showed up?” he directly asked.

Declan shook his head to assure him he was not, but didn’t turn around to look in his brother’s direction.

“No. It would’ve been nice to know you guys were coming ahead of time, but I’m not pissed at all,” he stated very calmly.

Carter took a long swig of his beer, trying to figure out Declan’s mood. He figured he’d make some conversation to ease any unspoken tension and commented about the resort.

“Nice place,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yeah. It is,” Declan answered as he began rubbing at the top of his leg.

Carter pointed the bottom of the beer bottle in that direction.

“Is it bothering you?” he asked. “The leg?”

Declan swung around, moving his leg into a straighter position.

“Not really. It was a bit sore. I was standing on it all day, at the shoot, but I took some meds when I came back and it’s doing okay,” he explained as he continued to massage the top of the leg.

Carter raised his eyebrows for a question, swirling around the brown bottle.

“I know I brought one of these out to you, but are you supposed to be drinking this stuff with those meds?” he asked.

Declan gave him a dismissive look.

“This is one, and the one you gave me is the second. I think I can handle that much—
mother
,” he said sarcastically.

Carter returned the look with one of his own and placed his hands up. It was an unspoken directive that he was watching out for him.

“Just checking,” he said.

Declan wasn’t engaging in his normal verbal sparring, which was a clear indication to Carter of the mood he was in, and that he was thinking much more seriously than he should be in such a place of relaxation. He decided to feel him out.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he nodded inquisitively.

Declan gave him a blank stare. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Carter began, “…usually you’d be bitchin at me for something—showing up unannounced, watch dogging you on your meds…something—but you’re not. You’re, pretty much, giving me one word answers, and not lectures. That’s not like you. What gives?”

Declan looked at his brother like he wanted to shut down and withdrawal, but he remembered Dr. Rhodes saying that it could help his memories if he just engaged more in conversations with people he could trust…about anything, small or large. The doctor said to make an effort to be more
open
.

If he couldn’t rely on Carter, or Blake, to be trustworthy, who could he trust?

“I was just thinking,” he started, “well, about…just everything.”

He was hesitant. Carter could see it was difficult for him as he continued.

“I’m glad that I was able to work today, you know?”

He looked at his brother in question.

“This is the first job I’ve taken in front of a camera since everything happened,” he confessed.

Carter was surprised at his brother’s vulnerability, and it made him feel more protective of him than he had since they were boys.

“How did you do with that?” he asked.

“Okay, I think,” Declan professed. “It was a long day on my leg—the longest I’ve had since everything happened. My physical therapist would have been proud!” He chuckled, giving Carter a snide look. “Standing all day wore me out much more than I thought it would,” he said, taking a drink, “…but it
did
feel good to get back to that end of the business.”

He paused for a minute. He opened up just a bit more as he gave Carter a strange, almost exposed expression that Carter hadn’t seen before.

“I’ll be honest with you, Carter,” he said, frowning. “I didn’t think they’d ever want me in shorts, or a bathing suit again. I mean, look at it”—he looked down at his limb—“even I think it’s hideous, but they were okay with it.” He looked back at Carter. “It felt, well…kind of good.”

Carter took a big gulp of his beer. It ripped him inside to hear his brother’s hurt, but it felt good that he’d opened up to him and he waited to see if Declan was going to offer anything more. He knew from overhearing the nightmares that there was more.

Declan looked like he was struggling to continue the conversation, so Carter decided to push a little more and play inquisitor.

“Thinking about anything else?” he asked.

“Like what?” Declan answered.

“Like…Aria?” his brother questioned, opening up a more personal topic.

Declan’s lips tightened, and Carter saw his hands grip the neck of the bottle with a bit more force.

“Maybe,” he answered. “Just a little.”

Carter sat back, looking away from his brother.

“Yeah,” he said. “I thought so.”

“You’re full of shit Carter!” He laughed. “How would you
think
so?”

Carter took his time, crossing one ankle over the other to give his brother a few minutes to regroup. Declan was staring hard at him with a smug expression.

“Well,” Carter began, “first, you’re my brother, so you think a hell of a lot like me. Since I’ve been here, on the island, I haven’t been able to stop having a thought once in a while, that I’d be enjoying this place a whole lot better if Lacey were here to enjoy it with me.”

He lifted the bottle to his lips, took a sip, and swallowed.

“That’s how I think, so…I figured you’d be feeling the same about Aria.”

Immediately, feelings of remorse fell over Declan. He didn’t feel he was always good with the right words to express himself, but he searched for the ones to apologize for his idiotic and selfish behavior. He was making this all about him again, forgetting about his brother’s pain. Although he had made progress in his counseling sessions, he still had work to do to remind himself that everyone had things they were dealing with in their own lives that were a struggle as well.

“Carter, I—I…” He struggled, but pushed himself, “You’re right. Lacey would have loved it here.”

He gave up. There were no words to apologize for being such an ass. He just decided to try and salvage the remainder of the night.

Reclining on his own chair once again, there was one thought that occurred to him that he could safely voice as they both looked out over the ocean.

“…Aria would have loved it here too,” he said as both his voice and thoughts drifted off. “I would have loved seeing Hawaii through her eyes. There’s a part of me that wishes…I just wish…”

He couldn’t finish. His vocal chords wouldn’t obey the simplicity of his thoughts.

Carter heard the struggle as his voice faded off like gravel and he knew the degree of effort it took for his brother to expose himself emotionally; he had experienced this same occurrence in conversations after Lacey’s passing. He interjected in a modest attempt to assist him.

“It’s okay. I get it. Believe me, Dec, I get it…”

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