How he changed from when he started telling his story to after I came over and took up his hand.

I can’t know for certain what precisely was going on in his mind. Whether he thought it would disgust me or scare me or I’d think less of him or I’d think he was like his parents.

[Shakes head]

I don’t know.

I never asked.

I just know it was a grave and brave risk for Preacher McCade to tell me what he told me.

And when I took it on.

I, [touches chest] me, this beautiful, sweet girl listens and doesn’t judge, doesn’t run away, she comes to hold his hand and then stretches out beside him and whispers from dark until dawn, tangled up in him, all our deepest secrets, all our hopes and dreams, all our fears and realities, all we can fit in, until she falls asleep.

That was it for him.

For him.

And for me.

He told me his plans then.

He told me he had to make it so someone would listen to him.

He told me he had to find justice for his brother.

He had to know he was at rest.

He told me they had to pay.

Pay for it all.

What they did to Baptiste. How they treated the Williamses.

They had to go down.

The sad part is, we got stuck into life and each other and I forgot about this.

Not completely, but for the most part…

[Swallows]

Yeah.

I drove to Florida and I walked up to that beach and I did both thinking we would have this out.

And we’d end it back together.

Because we were us.

There was no way but to end whatever in life, doing it together.

He said some ugly things that were very wrong.

But I got it.

Boy, did I.

But he didn’t share with me and I’d asked, I’d begged.

And we could not ever allow that to happen again.

Last, I’d apologized for striking him, but I needed to repeat that apology and assure him that I’d never done that before, and I never would do it again.

But when I walked up that beach and saw him with his jeans rolled up his calves and his tee tight on his pecs but billowing in the wind around his stomach and his hair longer and blowing around his head, his manner self-contained, I knew the conversation was not going to be that.

And I was right.

He didn’t look like he was hungry for the sight of me.

He didn’t look like he was missing me.

Both of these I was feeling in abundance.

He also didn’t give anything away.

He just said, “Thanks for comin’, Lyla.”

I wasn’t giving up, not that easy.

Not again.

So, I asked, “You wanna walk awhile?”