And we might never be permitted to leave.
.............................
SEVENTEEN WEEKS
Christmas came and went.
We didn’t celebrate.
I took photos on my phone and recorded a home movie of the progress of the house, but I didn’t tell the children the date.
After all, the essence of Christmas was celebration and gratefulness.
We were grateful but not celebratory. We would wait until we were found to honour the day of gift giving and happiness.
“Are you awake?”
I jolted, curling up in the flax blanket I’d made. We each had one now. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it did grant a resemblance of comfort. “Yes.” I paused, breathing shallowly, waiting for Galloway to follow through. When he didn’t, I whispered, “Why?”
Shuffling sounded as he sat up. I looked over at him, glancing quickly at the children to make sure they were sleeping.
Three nights ago, Galloway had insisted we all move farther down the beach. We’d grumbled, but it was strictly temporary. The house was almost done and he wanted to add the finishing touches without us seeing the end product.
The inconvenience of sleeping in a more exposed area on the beach and not being allowed to return to the camp was overshadowed by the excitement of moving into our new abode.
Not to mention, the change of location had acted like a holiday. Lightening the moods of Pippa and Conner, making my heart sing as they played together and laughed more than they had in weeks.
Galloway murmured, “I think it’s time I told you something.”
My heart stopped. “Tell me what?”
He rubbed his face. “Everything.”
I sat up, kneeling in my sandy bed. “Okay...”
Raking both hands through his hair, he gave me a crooked smile. “I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. But I can’t keep it from you anymore. The past few weeks, talking with you, sharing small pieces of who I am, I’d forgotten how nice that is. Nice to be known.”
“I’ve enjoyed it, too. I’m honoured that you trust me enough to tell me.”
His blue eyes glowed. “I don’t just trust you, Stel. It’s gone far beyond that.”
I looked away, unnerved by how much emotion he stared with.
“I need to tell you because I want more from you. Being your friend...it’s not enough.” His voice deepened to a heavy rasp. “And I don’t think being friends is enough for you...either.”
My lips parted. This was my moment. The moment when I fixed what I’d broken. If he were brave enough to finally tell me what haunted him, I could be honest and tell him why I was terrified of sleeping with him.
The words danced on the tip of my tongue.
No, it’s not enough.
You’re right; I want you so much I can barely stand it.
But something held me back. A weakness. A fear. My own stupid indecision.
I ruined it for the second time. “I—I like being your friend, Galloway.”
He stiffened. “That’s it?”
“Is that not enough?”
“Can you honestly say that it is?”
My heart ceased beating. “I can’t answer that question.”
“You know what, Stel? You really are a piece of work.” He chuckled coldly. “This past month, I’ve gone out of my way to open up to you—let you see that I’m worthy enough of one sliver of your affection. But nothing is good enough for you.”
“Wait.” I flinched. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
I shook my head. “Galloway, you have it all wrong. I want you—”
“You know what?” His hand shot up to silence me. “I don’t need to know. Whatever it was that I was going to tell you...it’s not important.”
Throwing himself back into bed, he rolled over.
Tears tickled my eyes. “Galloway...”
He didn’t turn around.
I hugged my blanket closer. “G?”
Still, he ignored me.
For an age, I waited for him to give me a second chance.
But he never did.
My back ached as I finally accepted what I’d done. “I’m sorry.” Slowly, I slid from kneeling to lying, staring at the stars above. My tears escaped, rolling down my cheek with salty sadness.
Tell him!
Sit up and tell him how much you want him. Tell him what scares you. Be honest!
But my muscles locked with a hundred anchors of doubt. We’d been each other’s lifeline for so long that my fear wasn’t just about pregnancy anymore. What would happen if sleeping together destroyed the limited friendship we’d found?
What if he hated me afterward? What if he swam off the island and left me because I wasn’t what he wanted...after all?
I squeezed my temples, willing my tears to cease. We lived the simplest existence, constantly dodging death’s grip, finding joy in the basic of activities, yet I couldn’t find the courage to admit that, yes, I was in love with him, yes, I wanted him with every fibre of my body, and yes, I would bind myself to him on our island, in a city, or on any place on Earth.
But I didn’t.
The moment was gone.
The breeze brushed away the tension with combs of wind and the beach exhaled unhappily.
Why did I do that?
Why was I so afraid?
Dawn broke and the sun rose and I still didn’t have an answer.
.............................
The next night, I followed the sandy trail toward the shore in total darkness.
I needed to breathe. Just stare at the waves and demand answers they couldn’t give.
A ball of sorrow lodged in my throat. That ball of sadness was never far away—how could it when we were marooned and forced to shed the glamour and pampered ease of living in a city? How could it when I’d once again screwed up where Galloway was concerned?
No matter the accomplishment we’d achieved from shedding the glitz of modern conveniences and learning how to gather and create, hunt and prepare, it was nothing if I couldn’t balance happy relationships.
He hadn’t talked to me all day.
We’d gone about our tasks. We’d prepped and ate and swam and drank. And not one word. Even the children had been quiet, sensing something wasn’t quite right between us.
The icing-sugar sand slipped through my toes as I moved closer to the lapping sea. The world continued on, regardless of night and day, but there was a difference when darkness replaced sunshine. Things shed their harsh reality and became magical, mystical. The blue of the ocean became silver-black from the moon. The palm trees became ghostly sentries keeping us sheltered. And the universe as a whole cocooned us with galaxies we could only dream of visiting.
I peered into the gloom, looking for Galloway. After not talking to me all day, he hadn’t come to bed, working all hours to finish the house.
I wanted to chase after him and apologise. Finally come clean as to what terrified me and how refusing him carved pieces out of me until I was hollow with want.
But I didn’t.
Because my reasoning was weak and made no sense. He’d curse me for not telling him sooner and giving him the chance to solve the issue instead of hiding it from him.
Sitting on the sand, the cool dampness soaked through my shorts. I looked at the starry horizon.
“Am I going to die here?” My whisper kissed the moon. “Will I die and never see Madeline again? Will I forever be mother and protector to two children and never be allowed to submit to the man I’ve fallen in love with?”
I held my breath as my questions threaded with the wind, dispersing each vowel in different directions.
North, south, east, west.
No answer from the useless compass.
No premonition.
No extra splash from the waves or twinkle from the stars.
Nothing.
I didn’t know how long I sat there mourning my life, m
y future, my present, but after a while, the melancholy in my blood turned to anger.
I’d survived.
I’d nurtured two small humans. I’d healed a fully grown man. I’d proven my self-worth over and over again.
And I had no one else to blame but myself for not having Galloway.
What am I doing?
Shooting to my feet, I waded into the water, welcoming the warm liquid to lap around my calves.
The sea was abnormally low tonight. We’d all become rather indebted to the tide. It washed away our dreams, our fears, our wishes. Every message we wrote in the sand was soothed by the briny waves.
Kicking the water, droplets rained around me. Back in society, I’d lost the ability to feel pride of accomplishment and beauty in small things, brushing them under a rug of indifference and the endless desire for more. More wealth, more safety, more friends, more love, more, more, more.
But here...our world was simplified. We no longer had to compete with one another; we survived because we fought side by side. We no longer felt envious of another’s happiness because day after day, we garnered joy for staying alive in a hostile world.
The simple pleasures of feeling sand through my fingers or seeing rainbows in droplets had made me full again. The muse for my song writing had become a vicious mistress, driving me to find inspiration in the randomest of places.
Looking toward the camp, something caught my eye. Indents in the sand, lettering scratched by a twig, just waiting for the sea to wash its secretive confession away.
I frowned.
That’s strange.
Pip and Conner hadn’t wanted to do the messages tonight, opting instead for a large bonfire to commiserate the number of months we’d been here. The calendar on my phone helped us keep track, but it also kept us very aware of how long it had been.
If they didn’t write them, then who...
Wading out of the water, I drifted closer.
The honest scrawl slipped down my throat and yanked my stomach from its home.
I’m hurting. I’m angry. I want the memories of what I did to leave me alone. I want to be a good person again. I want her so fucking much. I want to taste and touch. I want to lick and stroke. I want to be off this goddamn island so I might stand one chance with her.
I hugged myself as my heart lost its flying feathers and plummeted.
I’d done this.
I’d hurt him.
Over and over again.
The tide wasn’t close to wiping away the words or the passion dripping from them.
Sucking in a breath, my nipples tingled at the ferocious need permeating the penmanship.
Galloway wanted me.
I had the power to make him happy. I could help him forget whatever he’d done.
This was no longer about me.
It was about him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
FIVE YEARS BEFORE THE CRASH
“I, GALLOWAY JACOB Oak, swear that the evidence I shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”
My hand shook as the defence attorney removed the bible from my reach, sneering with disdain. He’d already judged, condemned, and ruined me.
I was screwed.
My eyes flickered to the jury where the faces of all ages, ethnicities, and religions stared back. Each one held a key to my freedom, but not one of them would give it to me.
And why should they?
I didn’t deserve it.
Not in the eyes of the court anyway.
In the eyes of my mother...well, I knew she would’ve been grateful if not sad for what I’d become.
The attorney paced like a jackal in front of my witness box, linking his fingers pompously. “Now, Mr. Oak. Answer clearly and precisely for the court so there is no misunderstanding. Did you or did you not kill Doctor Joseph Silverstein?”
I glanced at my father. I straightened my shoulders. I prepared to throw my life away.
Not that I had a life left.
I was a murderer.
“Yes. Yes, I killed him.”
.............................
BLOODY NERVES DROVE me mad as I waited for the others to join me.
I’d had four days to perfect our home on my own. Even Conner hadn’t been permitted around the camp while I finished it. He’d been as integral to the creation as I had, but I wanted the final touches to be special for him, too.
Hence the banning.
I stood by the fire, critiquing the building we’d created from flax rope, bamboo, and helicopter rotor blades. It wasn’t fancy, but it was fairly large and substantial enough to withstand a storm or two, but not a typhoon if one of those decided to make our life even more hellish.
It’ll leak.
I scowled. That part was unavoidable. The roof was flax fronds layered tightly together and the open holes for windows merely had a woven mat secured to the wall to roll down. It was the best I could do without waterproof tiles or glass.
I heard them before I saw them.
I crossed my arms and waited as Pippa’s giggle and Conner’s voice drifted around the bay.
Last week, Conner’s voice had dropped a few octaves, leaving behind boyhood for puberty.
I was proud of that.
Proud that we’d all signed a death warrant the night we’d crashed, yet we hadn’t succumbed. Pippa was happier than she had been in a while, Conner was adapting, and Estelle had somehow grown more bloody beautiful.
She’d lost weight—like all of us—but her bone structure only stood out more. With tanned skin and bleached white hair, she truly looked like an island seductress.
My heart wrapped itself around my ribcage as she appeared on the edge of camp. The children trailed behind her. She walked quickly, eager to see what I’d done.
My mood bounced between pissed off and inadequacy. Pissed because we still hadn’t cleared the air between us and inadequacy because as hard as I’d worked on our new house, it had its flaws.
Many, many flaws.
It wasn’t perfect, and to me, every issue and mistake was blatantly obvious.
What if she refused to live in it?
Her lips twitched into a kind smile, her eyes full of sorrow for the emotional gap between us. It was hard having a silent fight when it was just you and two kids on a damn island.
Unless someone was willing to clear the air it became harder and harder to stomach. I knew I’d been in the wrong. I’d jumped down her throat after she’d been nothing but forthright with me. It wasn’t her fault she lied about wanting nothing more than friendship—regardless what her body said.
Her eyes drifted from mine to the house.
She froze.
Her mouth fell open.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
My heart thundered, expecting her to rush toward the dwelling and step inside for the first time.
But she didn’t.
She ran straight toward me.
Her feet kicked up sand and when her arms clamped over my shoulders, I couldn’t stop my body’s insane craving for her. My fingers dove into her hair, and I didn’t know who did it.
Her or me.
It didn’t matter.
One moment, we were separate.
The next, we were one.
Her lips collided with mine.
Her tongue welcomed me.
Her taste exploded everywhere.
And I swore right there and then that I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t hold a grudge. I couldn’t be angry. I couldn’t hate her for not accepting me.
Our fight dissolved. The distance between us erased.
Her kiss was like slipping into comfort and forgiveness all at once.
A groan caught in the back of my throat as her breasts pressed against me. Intensity thickened and heated until I worried I’d incinerate in her arms. I wan
ted to run my hands down her body, pluck her from the sand, and carry her into the first home we’d had in months. Cradle her in four walls and make love to her with a roof above our heads and privacy hiding our secrets.
Her teeth caught my bottom lip, dragging me closer for one last second.
Then, it was over.
She pulled away, dropping her eyes. “Um...somehow my scripted thank you became—”
“The best kiss since the first one you gave me?”
She blushed. “Yes...well. Sorry.”
I wouldn’t let her get away this time. Not again.
Cupping her chin, I forced her gaze back to mine. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”
She sighed as if a terrible weight had been lifted.
“Wow!” Pippa squealed as she ran ahead, disappearing into the only habitat on the island.
“Hey, wait for me!” Conner charged after her.
Estelle laughed. “I guess it’s inspection time.”
I didn’t want our moment to be over, but the ceasefire between us was an enjoyable place to dwell until we had more time to be open.
Considering we lived together...we rarely found time to just be and talk. Staying alive demanded a lot more effort than I’d ever imagined.
But we’re alive...and that’s all that matters.
Heading toward the top of our camp, I brushed my shoulder with Estelle’s.
She shook her head, wonder on her face. “I can’t believe you were able to create this.”
I squinted at the house, doing my best to see past its faults. The ratty flax knots and knobbly bamboo. Unstraight walls and basic layout. It was better than a tent...barely. “I just wish it could’ve been better.”
She wrenched to a halt. “What do you mean, better? Galloway, it’s perfect.”
I shrugged. “Next one, I’ll fix the issues.”
“I don’t want a ‘next one.’” She scoffed. “I want this one.”
I grinned. “Good job, you’re stuck with this one for a little while then, huh?”
Her smile broadened. “I guess so.”
I’d already drawn up blueprints for my next creation, and it wasn’t a house. I wouldn’t tell her, but my upcoming project was something floatable so we might have a chance at freedom.
In the months since we’d been stranded, not one aircraft, helicopter, or boat had been close enough to hear or see us.