Surviving His Memory

Chapter 1

March 7, 2021

Two months and four days.

Two months and four damn days. Just sixty-five more days.

That's all I have left of him, two months on a beach in Hawaii. I keep trying to enjoy my, somewhat, impromptu vacation. I left home almost four weeks ago now. Home doesn't have anything left for me anymore. He's not there. He left this world, one year ago today, and all I can think about is two damn months. His life insurance paid off the house, my car, paid my other bills for at least two years, and sent me here. But, how in the world am I supposed to live without him? I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I miss him. I never wanted money. I just wanted him. Forever.

The first month of my trip was spent in the mountains of Tennessee. Which is where I had originally intended to stay for the entire trip. However, after the first couple of weeks of being held up in my cabin, something terrible happened. I couldn't stand being there anymore. I had to leave.

So, with the advice of a close friend, I booked a beachfront room in Maui. A quick internet search told me Maui had thirty miles of beaches. I'm pretty sure that thirty miles of beach is enough real estate to stare out at blankly while I figure out what's next for me in this life. I could even move around the island and avoid seeing the same sights.

He was supposed to bring me here, though. It was part of our ten-year plan. We wanted to do it right. Come here, do everything this island has to offer, and fly home to our two kids and our three bedroom, two-bathroom house. We would pick up our children from his mom's house. Of course, those children were part of the plan too. We never got the chance to create them. We were waiting for the right time. Only the "right time" never came. I had only just graduated from med school about six months before his death. We didn't have enough time. Not near enough time.

After the incident, that's what I call it now. Our friends and family came out of the woodwork to help me. But the months went on and many of them fell away. It's understandable. I'm zero fun to be around. My husband, he was the light inside of me. Without him, my soul is dark, my heart cold, and my behavior is solemn. Have I mentioned that I miss him? God, I miss him so much! Only one person, an old "friend" of my husband. He wouldn't leave me alone...

After six or seven months, I asked everyone to stop saying his name. I do my best not to think of him, but I fail every day. Hell, I fail every waking hour. I wish I could close up this hole in my heart and find myself again. The trouble with that is, I'm not sure how to even start. Who am I supposed to be without him? How do you move on from the love of your life? How do you just let go of all the promises? Honestly, I don't think it's possible. I will forever only be part of myself. The rest went with him a year ago. The moment his heart refused to beat, part of me died as well. My hope and joy died the moment he did. I haven't been able to muster either, ever since. Days later, when we found out exactly what happened, in the days leading up to the incident..well, that's when my will died. I haven't spoken of it since that day, not to anyone. There's nothing to say that will make anything better.

There is one thing that a year of grieving is good for, and apparently that's my waistline. I have never been this thin. Don't get me wrong, I'm still curvy but I've definitely lost a lot of my "fluff." It doesn't really matter though. I haven't cared what I looked like for three hundred and sixty-five days and I'm not about to start now. I did pick up a few swimsuits for this trip, but hello...Hawaii! I mean swimsuits are required here, aren't they?

A friend of mine, Kate, is supposed to be flying out here in a few weeks. She's going to stay the week with me and then go back home to her fiance and their son. I wish I could be happier for her. I used to be. Now I'm just bitter. My happily ever after was ripped away from me for reasons I may never truly grasp. It will be nice to have some company though. At least, I hope.

I here I am. Comfortably, in my lounger, wearing my new black bikini. Sitting there staring through my dark sunglasses out at the water. I try to ignore all the happy couples walking hand in hand down the beach with their umbrella drinks. I've never been much of a fruity drink type of person. Instead, I enjoy a light beer, of which I have a six pack in the little red cooler I brought down here with me. Well...I think I'm down to four now, but that isn't all that important.

I made a deal with the manager of this resort. Her name is Diane and I like her. She reminds me of who I used to be. You know, before my life exploded. Our deal is the hotel will provide my breakfast and lunch in my room, but I have to go out for dinner. She told me I couldn't stay in my room all of the time, or she would drag me out, kicking and screaming if necessary. I enjoy being around her. We're going to dinner tonight, and she is supposed to bring a couple of girlfriends to introduce me to. I'm currently looking forward to it.

My thoughts are interrupted by the shrill ring of my cell phone. I roll my eyes and debate declining the call without looking at who's calling, but then I see her name. My mother-in-law was calling. "Hello?" I answered, trying to keep my voice strong. I don't want her to worry about me. "Ellie..." her voice cracks and my eyes fill with tears. This woman knows how I feel. She is grieving with me. "Are you okay June?" My voice shakes this time. "Yea. Yea. I'm okay but I did get something today..." June blows out a breath and continues "...his attorney brought me a letter from him. He set it up to be delivered a year after his death. I haven't been able to bring myself to open it yet. Did you get one? The attorney said he had one for you too. He said that someone else had to deliver yours because you were so far away." My mind is reeling at her words. My breath caught in my throat. Why? I wanted him to explain last year. I needed his words back then. Now I'm so mad at him that his words won't be enough. "No. I haven't gotten anything yet." I told her with as much strength as I could muster. "I don't know if I want to read it. I just...I will only want more. Gosh June, how am I supposed to do this?" I asked her with all the emotions that I could no longer hold back. "I don't know honey. I'm barely getting through this myself. He wouldn't want you to be so sad. It would hurt him to see you this way. He loved you so much, Ellie. Don't ever forget that." She tells me. "Yea, but not enough to come to me. I'm a doctor June. I could have helped. If I had only known, maybe things would have been different but..ugh it doesn't matter anymore. He's gone now and he will never come back to me." I'm sobbing now. When will this stop hurting so badly? "I want you to find someone that will love you through this. I need you to be okay, Nor...I mean Ellie." June says thick with emotion. She almost called me Nora. That's what he always called me. My whole name is Eleanora. After his death, I didn't want to hear anyone say it because I might have forgotten what it sounded like from his lips. I never want to forget how he made me feel in every moment, of every single day. The way he said my name made my heart so happy.

We continue to talk about less stressful subjects before we finally bid our farewells, with the promise of calling if I need anything. She is the best mother-in-law I could have ever asked for. He loved that I was so close to his mom. He always said we were his two favorite women in the world. I wish he had told us what was happening. I could have been there for him, but he didn't and I wasn't.

About three weeks before he died, my husband went to a doctor for headaches. He told me about the tests they did and a few days later he was called in to go over the results. He told me his blood pressure was the only thing they could find that would cause his headaches. I believed him. I should have gone with him. Come to find out he had a tumor on his brain. He didn't tell me. He still didn't tell me when he scheduled the surgery. I was under the impression that he was going on a business trip. I can't believe he did this to me. The hospital called me, minutes after his heart stopped beating. They said they couldn't bring him back. They were sorry. I barely heard the woman, when she asked me where to send the body. I didn't know. Why in the world would I know that?

The days following are all a blur. I barely remember the funeral. However, I'm told it was a beautiful tribute to his life. My memories are clouded by the memory of that phone call. I wish he had told me he was sick. The doctor later told me it wasn't supposed to happen that way. I wasn't supposed to get that particular phone call. It wouldn't have mattered either way. They still would have told me the same thing. I still would have become a widow that day. His doctor said he was supposed to call me first. He knew that I didn't know. Evan had been quite specific if he were to die that day, but again, it doesn't matter.

I caught sight of the time on my phone. Crap! I only have an hour and a half before I need to meet Diane and her friends. I jump up and gather all of my belongings, including my little red cooler. The first step I take reminds me that I'm down to one beer in my cooler. I'm a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and five is more than I typically consume. Even after the last year of hell. I didn't realize how drunk I was until I tripped over my own feet and ate sand. I've always been clumsy. I would love to blame the beer completely, but this is just who I am. I trip and fall more often than I'd like to admit.

Next thing I know. Strong hands grab me by my upper arms and lift me back to my feet. "Hang on. Don't open your eyes. The sand won't feel good in there." His voice was a deep, steady rumble that made my stomach flip. That was an odd reaction but I didn't have much time to think about it. "Okay, I'm going to dump a bottle of water over your face to wash away the sand." He tells me. "Okay." I barely whispered. Then the ice, that is his water, was dumped on my face and I let out a squeal from the cold. "I'm sorry it's cold. It was the only one I had with me." There was a slight chuckle in his voice. I don't blame him, I bet this is pretty funny. I inch my eyes open, afraid that some sand might be left over. I came face to face with a man that looked like an absolute God. He was probably part of the group of giant men that were playing beach volleyball not far from my chair. Ugh. Nice Ellie, way to embarrass yourself. "Thank you.." I finally spit out. "Ethan. My name is Ethan." He told me with a grin. I'm sure he noticed that I checked him out, but he should be used to it. Every woman on this beach has done it, I'm sure. "Nor..I mean Ellie." I stumble over my words and I can feel my face heat despite the ice-cold water. "Ellie.That's a beautiful name, for a beautiful woman." He winks at me as he spoke. That's all it took to shake me out of my daze. "Thank you for your help. Maybe I'll see you around, Ethan." I tell him as I begin, once again, gathering my belongings. "I'll look forward to that, Miss Ellie." He says as he walks backwards toward the rest of his buddies at the volleyball net. Yep. I was right. He definitely belongs with the rest of the giants. I have never met a man more beautiful. I almost introduced myself as Nora. I haven't gone by that half of my name since my husband died. What was I thinking?

I thought of the beautiful stranger as I walked back to my room to get ready for girls' night. He has big green eyes flanked by thick eyelashes. His neck was as big around as one of my thighs in my fluffier days. He had a five o'clock shadow on his jaw and the most kissable lips I've ever seen. Wait! Did I just think that? Nope. No I did not. I shook my head at myself as I slid my key card and shoved open my door. Time to get ready and forget about the godlike creature that calls himself Ethan.