The Shore We Never Reached

The cassette isn’t playing.

The studio is too quiet, even for him.

Sofi hasn’t shown up in days.

He doesn’t call. Doesn’t text.

Because deep down, he knows he doesn’t deserve to.

He sits in front of the piano, trying to play something. Anything.

But his fingers won’t move.

“You pulled her out of the sea.”
“But she died anyway.”

He thinks about the memory. The wristband.
The scream. The cold water.

“If I had gotten there sooner...”
“If I had held on tighter...”
“If it had been me instead...”

El walks.

Not because he’s sure she’s there.

But because he doesn’t know where else to go.

He finds her. Sitting where the waves kiss the shore.

Hood up.
Shoes off.
Hands in the sand, like she’s trying to press herself back into the earth.

He approaches quietly.

She doesn’t turn.

“You remembered,” she says.

“I did.”

“Too late.”

Her voice is flat. Not angry. Not bitter. Just... done.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks.

El swallows.

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know it was real. Not until the tape.”

“You got to forget,” Sofi says. “I didn’t.”

Her words land hard.

She’s not yelling.

She’s barely raising her voice.

But every sentence feels like a wound reopening.

“You got to live,” she adds. “I had to explain to my parents why I let her go swimming alone. I had to replay that day a thousand times, trying to figure out which second killed her.”

El sits beside her in the sand.

Carefully.

He doesn't try to defend himself.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” he says.

“You were stronger than me.”

Silence.

The tide inches closer.

“I don’t hate you,” Sofi says. “I don’t even blame you.”

“But you can’t forgive me.”

“Not yet.”

She finally looks at him.

Her eyes aren’t full of tears.

They’re empty.

Tired.

“You’re part of the last moment she ever lived. That makes you sacred. And unbearable.”

El reaches into his pocket and pulls out the new cassette — the one they recorded together. Their unfinished song.

He places it in the sand between them.

“I don’t know what this is. Or what we’re supposed to be.”

“It’s grief,” Sofi says. “Tangled up in guilt and timing.”

“But I still want to see you tomorrow.”

A long pause.

Sofi doesn’t say yes.

She doesn’t say no.

She just closes her eyes and lets the tide reach her feet.

El stays.

That’s all he can do.