“Fuck,” Walker muttered, staring out to sea while drinking his beer. He’d just wrecked Marlow’s birthday party. He’d seen her start back to where everyone was, then veer away when she thought he was no longer looking. And she hadn’t come back. He didn’t think she was going to. He’d hurt her, even though he’d never dreamed he had the power to do that. He’d merely been trying to protect himself.
He shook his head. He’d never been able to do anything right when it came to her...
He had her clothes in his truck. He’d been planning to give them to her tonight, after everyone left. He’d been hoping—in spite of himself—that they might spend the night together again. They certainly seemed compatible physically. But now he had to leave her clothes at the tree where they’d hidden gifts for each other as children, because she didn’t plan on seeing him again.
He’d been trying to push her away, and he’d accomplished that. So why was he filled with such regret?
“Hey, bro.”
Walker sat up taller as Reese strode down the dock. “Hey.”
“Do you know where Marlow went?”
“No,” he said, but he had a pretty good idea. “Why?”
“I thought I saw her walk this way.”
“She was here for a second. Something wrong?”
Reese sat down beside him. “Not wrong. They’re about to cut the cake, is all.”
“It’s getting late. It looks like most people have already gone home. Why didn’t they do it sooner?”
“I guess her mother forgot about it.”
The fact that he’d caused her to leave before the grand finale made him feel like a jerk. She’d been nice to him since she’d come home. And he certainly had no complaints about what she’d offered him physically. Each one of those encounters had been beyond incredible. But that was the thing—he wasn’t used to her being that friendly, and he was afraid to rely on it.
Reese followed his gaze out to sea. “Do you think I should talk to Mom about Dad?” he asked.
Walker was reluctant to deal with their family bullshit right now. But then...he never wanted to deal with it. He didn’t understand why Reese couldn’t ignore it the way he did. The past was the past; there was nothing they could do to change it. He refused to acknowledge that he’d been wounded in any way and kept hobbling along. Sure, he was dragging an invisible ball and chain, but at least he kept moving. He wasn’t letting his father destroy what he could have in the future.
Reese, on the other hand, couldn’t quit dwelling on it. Walker was torn between trying to help his brother by being understanding and supportive and trying to keep the lid on the Pandora’s box of their past. He hated to see his mother get back with his father as much as Reese did, though. Rosemary was a good woman; Rudy didn’t deserve her. “How would you handle that?” he asked.
“I’ve talked to her once already,” Reese said. “But I don’t think I was adamant enough.”
“Which means...what?”
“Maybe I need to be a little more insistent, get specific, remind her how terrible it used to be.”
Which meant their conversation would turn into a screaming match, and Walker would have to come in and act as peacekeeper. “She’ll just say he’s changed now that he’s sober.”
“She’s tried that. There’s no guarantee he won’t go back to the bottle.”
“True, but no one’s perfect. Maybe he should have the chance to change and improve.”
“I’m not stopping him from doing that. Dad can change all he wants. But he’s burned his bridges with us.”
Walker preferred to be done with Rudy, too. But he knew their mother was lonely. “No second chances?”
“No second chances,” Reese said.
Walker drained his beer. “You should let me talk to Mom.”
“Why?”
Because he would be gentler, and he felt that was important. “Like you said, you’ve tried once already.”
“I don’t think I tried hard enough. We’ll be doing her a favor by warning her away.”
Unless their father had changed. But maybe, like their mother, Walker was too much of an optimist. “What if she’s right? What if he’s finally the man she’s always wanted him to be?”
Reese got up. “It’s too late.”
Walker handed him his empty beer bottle to carry back to the house. “Whatever you do, just...don’t say anything to her tonight. I saw her earlier, and she seemed to be enjoying herself. There’s no reason to ruin that.”
Reese scowled. He obviously didn’t like the idea of waiting, but that came as no surprise. He wasn’t known for his patience.
“I mean it,” Walker said, and Reese gave him a reluctant nod before heading back to Seaclusion.
Dutton had made all the arrangements for his trip. Claire had spent most of the party texting furiously with him, trying to talk him out of coming to Florida. She told him she’d spend some time with him when she got back, that she wouldn’t make up her mind about reconciling here on the island. But he kept saying he wanted to remind her how great things could be between them.
Claire had been able to extract a promise that he wouldn’t make his presence known to her friends. She’d told him whatever they had would be over if he did, and she meant it. She loved Aida, and he had to respect that. He also had to respect that she needed to work through this in her own way and in her own time.
When she returned to the guesthouse after the party, Aida was with her, but Marlow must’ve gone back earlier because she wasn’t on the beach when they cut the cake, and they hadn’t seen her after, while the DJ and caterers were cleaning up and leaving.
“Are you nervous about giving that Darcy person a yoga lesson tomorrow morning?” Aida asked as they let themselves in.
“Not really,” Claire replied. “I’m just going to do my best. If that’s not good enough, there’s nothing more I can do.”
“It’ll be good enough.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Claire expected to find Marlow changing or watching TV, but she was already in bed. Once they realized that, they lowered their voices and got ready for bed themselves.
“Why would Marlow leave the party without us? Do you think she’s upset?” Aida asked, jerking her head toward their friend’s closed door as they met up in the hallway.
Claire considered the question. “It was probably difficult for her to celebrate her birthday without her father.”
“I don’t doubt that was part of it,” Aida said. “But I feel like there’s more going on—and that it might have to do with Walker.”
Claire had noticed the way they treated each other, too. “There’s definitely something going on between them. He seemed really jealous when she was with Reese the other night.”
Aida blinked in surprise. “I don’t think she has any feelings for Reese. Do you?”
“No,” she replied. “It’s more that Walker doesn’t like seeing her with anyone else, including his brother.”
Aida pursed her lips as she considered Claire’s response. “She’d probably feel the same if we were to show interest in him.”
“Which is how I know she doesn’t have any feelings for Reese,” Claire said. “And you saw how hard Walker was on her during the tennis match. Even Reese was shocked.”
“And then she defended him when I said something after. Although, it could also be that she was upset her mother gave away her father’s watch and ring.”
“I guess there’s no way to know for sure, not if she won’t tell us.”
“The fact that she’s so tight-lipped about Walker tells us more than she’d probably like,” Aida joked. “It’s too bad.”
“What’s too bad?”
“Walker’s even cuter than Reese. He’s more serious, but he’s more mature, too.”
Claire wished he could be an option for Aida. If Aida fell in love with the right man—someone who was deserving of her and would be good to her—Claire would be under less pressure when it came to Dutton. “You’d be interested in him?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Claire chuckled. She was still too stuck on Dutton to feel attracted to anyone else. She hoped, if she didn’t get back with him, that would change, but she didn’t dare count on it. Her heart was far more stubborn than she’d ever imagined it could be. “I think we should consider him off-limits.”
Aida agreed, and they whispered good-night before going into their separate bedrooms, at which point Claire checked her phone one last time.
Dutton had sent her another text: I can’t wait to see you.
While waiting until all the party guests, musicians and servers had left the house and everyone else was in bed, Walker drove around the island to make sure it was secure. He also checked in with Officer Goff, who assured him the most exciting thing that’d happened in the past several hours was the party thrown at the Madsens’ beachfront property. Since Walker was responsible for the safety of everyone on the island, this came as welcome news.
It was late when he felt it was safe to go back to Seaclusion. After he parked outside the compound, he put Marlow’s clothes in a bag and headed to the gumbo-limbo tree, still kicking himself for upsetting her and ruining the rest of her party.
He paused as he walked past the guesthouse, hoping there was some possibility of attracting her attention. But short of throwing a rock at the window—and he didn’t know which window was hers—he couldn’t think of any way to get her to come talk to him. The place was completely dark. She obviously wasn’t up, anyway.
There was nothing to do but weave through the buildings and the copse of palms, southern magnolia and mimosa trees where they’d had sex for the first time and head down the beach to the “tourist tree” with the hole in the trunk.
A bank of clouds rolled across the moon almost as soon as he reached the tree. He used the flashlight on his phone so he could see well enough to stuff the sack he’d brought into the hole, but there was something in the way.
Assuming he had to clear out leaves or other detritus, he reached in. But he didn’t find any leaves. There was a beach bag that held a piece of pyrite, a cheap necklace with Marlow’s initial that he’d won at the state fair when he was thirteen, a wooden heart he’d carved in woodshop and a picture of them together at prom. She’d been only fourteen when they attended that dance, but Tiller had asked him to take her. Her father hated to see her miss out on the experience just because she was two years younger than everyone else, and yet he wanted her to be with someone he trusted.
Walker remembered that night clearly. She was so grateful she got to go because of him that she was much nicer than usual—until he tried to kiss her at the end of the night.
He shoved that memory away as he studied the bag. Obviously, it hadn’t been here for long, which meant Marlow must’ve put it in the tree after she returned to the island, maybe even tonight.
Could that be right? And, if so, why did she do it? He couldn’t believe she’d kept this junk to begin with—and that included the picture.
He was putting everything back in the bag when he noticed handwriting on the photograph: Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I wish we could be friends.
There was no signature, but he didn’t need a signature to know who the note was from.
He sighed as he stared up at the sky. Friends. If only she knew what that did to him...
But he couldn’t deny her, even now. So he carried her clothes to the truck, along with the trinkets she’d saved, and wrote a note to leave her instead.
When Marlow heard Claire getting ready for her appointment at the racquet club, she got up to make coffee and wish her well. She was trying not to think about Walker, but as soon as she’d opened her eyes, she’d suddenly remembered putting the beach bag full of things he’d given her in the gumbo-limbo tree where she’d told him to put her clothes, which was something she certainly hadn’t meant to do. She needed to grab that stuff before he found it, and she figured it would be best to do that while Claire was gone and Aida was still sleeping.
“Wish me luck,” Claire said.
“You know I do.” Marlow handed her the coffee she’d poured into a travel mug and fished the key card to the Tesla out of her purse. “Here, take the car.”
“I can just ride a bike,” she said, sounding surprised.
“You might be late if you do, since you’re not familiar with the island yet. This will be quicker. You’ll be back before anyone needs to use the car today. And even if you’re not, there’s always the Jeep.”
“Thank you! That’ll make things easier.”
After a quick hug, she hurried out the door and Marlow sat at the kitchen table, sipping her own coffee while waiting to see if the noise had disturbed Aida.
When she didn’t hear any movement, she set her cup aside and went to her room, where she put on her bikini and threw a sweatshirt over it before gathering Walker’s sweats and his T-shirt, which she’d stuffed under the bed. She figured she might as well take it all to the tree so it would be there when he returned her clothes.
The weather was already warm. As she made her way to the tree, she could tell this afternoon would be a hot one. She vowed that, once she had her clothes back, she wouldn’t even think of Walker again. After what she’d learned about love and its betrayals as a divorce attorney, she couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to get so hung up on him.
But once she got to the tree, she didn’t find her beach bag. Her clothes weren’t there, either. When she reached inside, the only thing her fingers closed around was an origami bird.
Curious, she held Walker’s clothes against her body while she unfolded it to find a brief line he’d written.
I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.
Marlow nibbled on her lower lip as she read those words over and over. It was too late for this, she told herself. Some people were better off just staying away from each other, and she and Walker seemed to be a perfect example.
She wasn’t going to contact him.
But she knew that was complete bullshit when she didn’t stuff his sweats and T-shirt into the tree, like she’d planned. She carried them, along with his paper bird, back to the guesthouse and hid everything in her bedroom while Aida continued to sleep.
“I got the job!”
Aida leaned up on her elbows and lifted her sunglasses to see Claire rushing toward Marlow, who’d just left their spot on the sand to buy them both a margarita. Aida had talked Marlow into going to the largest public beach, where there was music, a bar and lots of people, while they waited for Claire to finish up at the club. After all, they weren’t going to meet any guys on a private beach.
Aida would’ve been happy to hang out with Reese, but he was at work. And she’d barely seen him the past couple of days. Even at the party last night, he hadn’t interacted with her very much.
She needed a distraction to keep her from obsessing over Dutton and Claire. Having someone make her feel attractive and desirable would be a plus. The divorce had left her feeling like an old sweater that’d been cast off in favor of a new one.
“I had no doubt you’d get it!” she heard Marlow say as they embraced. “I guessed when you didn’t come back after an hour or so that it was going well.”
Aida stood up to congratulate Claire, too. “That must’ve been the longest yoga class ever,” she teased as she plodded through the hot sand to meet up with them. “It took all morning!”
Claire bestowed a beaming smile on her. “We had a lot to go over.”
“When do you start?” Marlow asked.
“Next week. We’ll offer one class a day at first. But if enough people show interest, we’ll expand the schedule.”
Aida slid her sunglasses higher on her nose. “How do we sign up?”
“There’s a registration form at the front desk. They’ve added my class. And Marlow will be happy to know it doesn’t start until ten.”
Marlow cast a sideways glance at Aida. “Hallelujah!”
Claire shaded her eyes as she gazed up and down the crowded beach. They’d sent her a text to let her know where to find them, and she’d gone home and changed. She was wearing a black one-piece suit with a white cover-up, but she hadn’t brought a hat and she wasn’t wearing any sunglasses. “What made you two decide to come here?” she asked.
Marlow hitched a thumb at Aida.
“Sometimes the private beach can get lonely,” Aida said.
Claire scowled. “Are you going to want to do this a lot?”
“I don’t know. Why does it matter? It’s fun, right?”
“It’s...crowded.”
“You must not want to get laid as badly as I do,” Aida quipped, and a gentleman who had to be in his sixties leaned in as he passed by to say, “If you’re looking for applicants, don’t underestimate a man with plenty of experience.”
They laughed, and so did he and his friends. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Aida promised, and he winked as he moved on.
“There’s nothing like being totally transparent,” Marlow said, still laughing as she dragged them to the bar.
They each ordered a drink, which they were given in plastic cups, before they returned to their towels and made room for Claire. Aida used her phone to show them pictures of the type of clothing she’d like to feature in her boutique, and they brainstormed how to make the space look cool with a painted brick interior and a railing that was black and ultramodern. Aida had switched to showing them the kind of fresh flower arrangements she’d like to use in the store when she received a text from Dutton.
Your friend Jackie stopped by. You never told her we were getting divorced?
All the fun Aida had been having immediately evaporated.
“Who’s Jackie?” Claire leaned back to look up at her. The text had floated across her screen while she held it in front of Claire and Marlow.
Aida could feel Marlow looking at her, too. Jackie’s stopping by shouldn’t have been a big deal. Aida didn’t consider her a close friend. She was a catty girl she’d known in school. That was all. Most women had one or two of those in her past. “Just an old friend.”
“From when you lived in North Dakota?” Claire asked. “Is she in LA these days?”
Aida shook her head. “I don’t think so. Last I heard, her husband was working in the oil fields like my brothers. He was also in our class.”
She texted a response to Dutton. What did she want? Why didn’t she call or message me first?
He answered right away. She said she wanted to surprise you while she’s in town. She had her husband and three kids with her. They’ve spent the past few days at Disneyland.
“Do you find her dropping by upsetting in some way?” Claire asked, watching her closely.
Aida hated that she didn’t know if she could be honest with Claire. The possibility that Claire and Dutton were still talking made her feel she’d been too open in the past and needed to erect some sort of defense—and that was as upsetting as learning that the girl who’d always been the most competitive with her had just learned she’d split with Dutton and was no longer living the dream of being a doctor’s wife in sunny Los Angeles. “No. Why?”
“You look as though you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset,” she lied. “I don’t care about Jackie. We haven’t been in touch for years, except on social media.”
“That’s why you didn’t tell her?” Marlow asked.
“Yeah,” Aida replied, but that was another lie. She preferred Jackie not to know. Jackie was one of those people who always seemed to wish her the worst, and Aida didn’t want to imagine this woman gloating over her misfortune. She already felt like a failure.
What did you tell her? she wrote to Dutton. Marlow and Claire couldn’t see what she was writing since she’d pulled her phone away, but they were both watching her in concern.
That you didn’t live here anymore. That we’re no longer married. What was I supposed to tell her?
She felt slightly nauseous as she stared at those words. What was he supposed to tell her? It was the truth, wasn’t it? She’d lost him, and it felt like everything else she’d had was gone, too.
Aida wished her frenemy hadn’t stopped by. She wished Dutton had never cheated in the first place. She missed their big, beautiful house, their neighborhood and lifestyle. Truth be told, she missed Dutton, too—his strong arms holding her at night, his calls during the day, reminding her that she wasn’t alone in the world, the way he’d laugh and then take her out to eat whenever she failed at cooking a meal. She missed the stories he’d tell about his patients, too. He could do so many good things, had helped so many people. He’d literally saved lives. And she had been proud of that—proud to be connected to him.
Marlow touched her elbow. “Let’s go swimming.”
“Okay.” Forcing a smile as if her latest contact with her ex hadn’t affected her in the least, Aida slipped her phone in her bag before turning to Claire. “Would you mind watching our stuff?”
Claire stiffened. No doubt she felt stung that she hadn’t been invited to get in the water, too. It was an obvious slight—more evidence of the growing strain between them. But given the situation, Aida didn’t feel capable of being more generous. She was doing all she could to hold back her tears. The only reason she’d agreed to get in the ocean was so no one would notice if she lost that battle.