I GRAB GRACE’S hand and drag her out of the shallows, tossing our snorkel gear into the kayak so I can pull her close for a kiss.
‘That was amazing. Thank you,’ she says when I release her for air, even though every bone in my body protests. She’s leaving tomorrow after her final first-aid class, and while the reasons and arguments that it’s for the best sound through my head, that confused, churned up part of me wants to lock her in my bungalow so she misses her flight.
So fucked up. Because it would only delay the inevitable. We can’t stay here for ever. I can’t stay here for ever. Even if I could, I’m still the same person I was a week ago and Grace deserves better. She deserves her passionate life and a partner who shares her dreams.
Not a cynic like me. A loner, in spite of what she might think. A coward.
Our kiss turns heated. I wrap my arms around her waist and drag her closer, wishing we could stay here, like this, trapped in this moment for ever, like cursed lovers.
‘Ryan,’ she whispers, rubbing her lips against mine while my eyes stay stubbornly closed. ‘I need to tell you...’ The sound of a stormy sea rages in my head, but I open my eyes, powerless to deny my beautiful, fearless Grace.
‘I know you don’t want to hear it,’ she whispers, tracing my lips with her fingertip, ‘but I could so easily fall for you.’
I watch the words I’m dreading emerge, then hide a wince, because it’s disgust with myself I feel. Disgust for touching her in the first place when I knew I shouldn’t. For selfishly gorging on every minute I could with her, even when I saw the way she looked at me, knew what she felt, because I feel it too. Disgust for not being brave enough to deserve her.
‘Don’t...’ I crush her close, breathe in the scent of her hair and formulate words worthy of this amazing woman I wish I’d met in another life. As another me.
But she’s too honest to stay silent. ‘I wanted you to know. But I don’t expect anything of you,’ she says against my skin, tearing out another chunk of concrete from that block.
I ease her away, a burning Grace-shaped imprint left behind on my chest. ‘I don’t deserve someone like you, Grace, even though if I were in the happy-ever-after business, I could fall for you too. But I’m in the singles business. I don’t know how to do anything else.’
She’s frozen with my hands on her shoulders. Or I’m frozen...terrified to break the moment, to acknowledge the full circle we’ve reached only to find ourselves back at the place we started.
I hear my name being called, turning away from Grace to see Taito heading our way across the beach.
‘Boss, there was a phone call for you. From Manor Court,’ he says, mentioning the name of my grandmother’s nursing home.
Acid fills my throat, my heart leaping, fear nudging aside all other feelings. ‘Did they leave a message?’
He shakes his head, and my blood actually runs cold. I reach for Grace’s hand, automatically, and stride towards my bure, aware that her stride matches mine in urgency. ‘Thanks, Taito. I’ll call them back.’
I find my phone and stab out the international number I know by heart, my stomach lurching into my mouth.
Please don’t let it be too late.
I’m wound too tightly to sit, but neither can I move, frozen in place facing the view I’m blind to with a silent, stoic Grace by my side.
The conversation is brief—terse yes and no answers from me and an avalanche of alarming medical terms from them.
‘Atypical bacteria...worsening pneumonia...acute renal failure...lapses of consciousness...’
I disconnect the call and try to suck in enough oxygen past the panic choking me. This is it. This can’t be it. I’m not ready. I knew this day would come...eventually... But... I pace to the kitchen and back, the movement making me seasick.
‘You should go. I’ll help you pack.’ Grace’s scent buffets me through the fog, her hand warm and soft and comforting on my arm. It’s bittersweet, pleasure and pain, comfort and confrontation, her touch burning my skin while her words sink in.
‘I need to think...’ My temples throb. I should have gone sooner.
‘Ryan—you need to go to her.’ Calm. Hushed. Her doctor’s voice. ‘You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.’
I scrunch my eyes closed, wishing I could switch off my hearing and the drum inside my head that beats out the certainty I’ve dreaded all these years. Perhaps if I ignore it, it won’t be true. Just as I learned not to feel after my mother abandoned me for the umpteenth time, just as I’ve shoved down my feelings for Grace.
Deny. Ignore. Hide.
‘Listen.’ She stands in front of me, her hands gripping both my arms, fingers digging into my biceps. ‘You can’t hide from this. Not this. You might save yourself the pain of not going today, but in the long run, the consequences will be greater. I know. I hated saying goodbye to Bryony. I cried and bargained and begged the universe to make it untrue. But I’m glad every day that I had that chance. Because I miss her and every day I wish I could speak to her, but at least I got to say goodbye.’
I shake my head. Step back from her wall of concern and sense and courage. ‘I understand, but she’s only seventy-eight. We’ve been here before—she’s recovered before. I will go, but—’ I move away from her scalding touch and compassionate eyes, my scalp prickling with apprehension. I curl my fist into my hair and relish the sting.
I’m wound so tight, there’s no room in me for feelings. I welcome numbness, the automatic pilot that makes me fire a series of emails and instructions to my assistant to set the wheels of my imminent departure from the island—and from Grace—in motion.
When I turn back to Grace, she’s looking at the view, her arms crossed over her waist, her back rigid. I step up beside her, my own hands curled into impotent fists inside my shorts’ pockets.
Her concerned expression cuts me like a knife. ‘I hope you’re right, about your grandmother. I hope more than anything she recovers, that she tells you off for your sunburnt nose.’
Her words sting like acid. Even now she’s trying to lesson my worry. The urge to take her in my arms one last time almost weakens my knees. But I hold my body still, every muscle focussed on keeping me together when I feel like I’m crumbling into a million fragments.
‘And more than anything,’ she whispers, ‘I hope you find contentment in your life.’
I recoil, too shattered to hear this now. ‘I can’t do this,’ I say. ‘The end was always coming for us. We both knew that. It’s just one day early.’ And there’s only room in my head for one sickening storm.
She faces me with a brave smile. ‘I know. It was just a holiday fling,’ she says, letting me off the hook.
I feel her distance even though she doesn’t move. She’s giving me space. Letting me escape gently, so great is her empathy and understanding.
‘I’ll be okay, you know,’ she says. ‘And if you need to talk, I’ll be there. Any time.’
Irrational rage bubbles up, an inferno of need and denial and powerlessness. Part of me bows under the weight of gratitude, and the darker part, the part snarling in a corner for fear of being dragged into the light, wants to test her passion, to know that it isn’t just me reeling and rudderless.
‘You know you can’t fix this, Grace. You can’t fix me.’ I ignore the flash of hurt in her eyes, the foul words spewing unbidden. ‘It’s okay—just walk away and see what happens.’ My eyes burn, so intent is my stare, but I don’t back down; my sanity demands this vile display. ‘I’ll survive. I’ve survived before. We’ll still be the same two people who want different things. The world won’t end.’
It will just feel that way.
But I can’t give her any more than I have, and the evidence that it’s not enough may as well gouge out my eyes.
She swallows, her huge heart boldly on show as she tries to conceal the pain I’ve caused. ‘I know I can’t fix it—I would if I could. But at least try to be honest with yourself going forward. Yes, you’ll survive, but is that living? Is fear a good enough reason to never allow yourself to be loved?’
Her sad smile, the stoic tremble of her lip, kills me, chews me up and spits me out. She presses a kiss to my cheek and steps away, heading for the door. I watch her go, my feet glued in place by the very fear she thinks is easily overcome. I’m only strong enough to face one loss.
Grace slips outside, but before she closes the door, she levels her courageous stare on me, stealing what’s left of my air. ‘I lied before, on the beach.’
I frown.
‘About how easily I could fall for you.’
My pulse pounds in my temples, a sick mix of relief and longing.
‘I know I shouldn’t have,’ she says with bleak eyes, ‘but I’ve already fallen.’
And then she leaves.