Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I don’t need the crowd—can’t fucking stand it right now, to be honest. But I am undeniably missing one person.
She’s still in the hospital, I think. Or maybe she’s been discharged. I don’t know. I should have made Ronnie and Mav take me by her room when they let me out, but the iron-fist nurse kept insisting that I take the wheelchair all the way to the door in accordance with hospital policy and left no room for argument on it.
I reach for my phone again, hesitating for a moment before powering it back on. The screen fills with more notifications as the device reconnects, but I ignore them, going straight to my text inbox to find my message thread with Avery. The last messages we sent each other were from months ago, when she was asking me about the New Year’s Day trip and trying to talk me out of the skydiving portion.
My snort is audible as I consider how fucking right she was about it being a stupid idea.
I laugh to myself at her horrified reaction to my telling her she had to leave her suitcase behind that morning in the hangar as my fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of what to say.
According to Cara, there’s a chance she doesn’t even have the fucking thing yet, and still, I know I would have to be fucking dead to wait another minute to try.
Eventually, I type out something simple.
Me: Hey. Just checking in. How are you feeling?
I hit send and stare at the screen, waiting for the little bubble to pop up, signaling she’s typing back. But nothing happens.
Minutes pass, and still nothing. Even though I know that she might not even have the phone yet, the possibility that she does and just doesn’t want to talk to me is too ubiquitous to ignore.
I…I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s the case. On the island, it felt like we were in this bubble. Nothing else mattered but surviving and each other. But here, in the real world, everything is different. She has her family, her life.
And me? I have…this. An empty apartment and a phone full of demands.
I set the phone down again, running a hand through my hair. Was what we had on the island real? Or was it just the circumstances? Two people clinging to each other because there was no one else?
I don’t want to believe that. Every moment with her felt real. The way she laughed, even when everything felt impossible. The way she looked at me, like I was more than the reckless guy everyone else sees. And the night she gave herself to me… I’ll never forget it. I don’t want to.
I wish I knew where we go from here.
It’s ironic, I guess.
There, we had no option but to sit and wait, and while I thought that ended yesterday, it didn’t. It shape-shifted and morphed into something a lot lonelier, but the feeling of waiting is the same.
Waiting to know. Waiting with hope.
My own metaphorical fucking stranded island.
I get up and wander to the kitchen, opening the fridge out of habit. It’s empty except for a few takeout containers that have to be weeks, if not months, old. I grab a beer, ignoring the taunt of the morning clock on the stove, crack it open, and lean against the counter.
My mind fixates on the way Avery’s hair looked under the sunlight, messy and tangled but perfect, and the way she challenged me and called me out on my bullshit. I see her smile and her frown, and I feel the tears she cried in my arms.
She is unlike anyone I’ve ever known and has always been that way, even when she was a knobby-kneed thirteen-year-old.
Because of Beau, she’s indirectly been in my life for as long as I can remember. And because of the island, she’s burrowed into my life in ways I never ever imagined.
And the thought of not having her in my life anymore… It’s unbearable.
I grab my phone again, staring at the screen. Still no response. My chest tightens. I’ve always been the guy who’s good at bouncing back, at moving on to the next thrill. But this? This feels different. This feels like something you don’t move past.
I take another sip of beer, the cold liquid doing nothing to ease the ache in my chest. For the first time in a long time, I feel lost and not the kind you can fix with a GPS or a map. This is deeper. This is the kind of lost where you don’t even know where you’re supposed to be looking.
And the worst part? The only person who might be able to help me find my way again isn’t here.
And I fucking miss her.
Avery
“I know. Yes. Yes, I’m leaving now.” June turns back to me, her eyes pleading from the sliding door. “Unless Avery thinks I should stay tonight.”