I wanted to smite everyone with hurricanes and helicopter crashes for ever giving me a lover and then stealing him so swiftly.
I didn’t get to say goodbye!
I wasn't over Conner’s death.
And now, I had to deal with Galloway’s, too.
I...I couldn’t do it.
My torso fell forward, my arms wrapped around me, and my forehead bowed on the lacquered floor.
I sobbed.
I screamed.
I sounded like a typhoon.
The captain ducked to his haunches, patting my shoulder blades.
It only made me worse.
A strong but kind hand pulled my chin up, forcing me to look at him. Stefan shook his head. “That’s why you're so unhappy. That’s why you want to go back?”
I bared my teeth, wrenching my face from his hold. “Yes! He’s there. Just lying there. He’s dead and I didn’t bury him. The ants...God, the ants...they’ll take him from me. I can’t...I can’t let that happen! Don’t you see? He has to be with the turtles. He has to be set free. I didn’t set him free!”
My garbled nonsense interspersed with ugly, ugly tears.
But I didn’t care.
Just as I didn’t care about my physical self, I didn’t care how deranged I came across to these men. I knew what I meant. And Galloway, if his soul was chained to his dead body, he knew, too. He’d know I’d abandoned him. That I ran away without telling him I love him.
Oh, God!
My sobs became a wail.
I didn’t tell him I love him!
I clutched Stefan’s shirt. “Please! I have to go back. I can’t do this. I have to tell him how much I loved him. How much I do love him. Please! You can’t do this.”
The captain shared a worried look. “Is she unwell, Stefan? I thought we’d explained all of this last night.”
Unwillingly, I sank into Stefan’s embrace, hating the way he rocked me. I didn’t want his sympathy or attempts at compassion.
I want Galloway.
And unless I could have him, I didn’t want anything anymore. I didn’t want to live another day. I didn’t want to breathe another breath without him in my world.
“We did, sir. But the trauma has hidden much of what occurred yesterday. She needs to go on medication and high-strength vitamins to boost her deficiencies. But she refused. The kids behaved, but we couldn’t get her cooperation. No matter that we told her the truth. She didn’t believe us then. And she doesn’t believe us now.”
“Believe what?” My eyes narrowed through my tears. “What don’t I remember?”
“That I explained to you why you don’t have to return to the island.”
“Because he’s dead?”
“That’s what you think? Truly, think. Try to remember.”
I froze. Tears turned to stalactites on my cheeks. “What—what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you should be crying for life rather than death.”
My breathing stopped for an entirely different reason. Despicable hope rose like two hundred sunrises in my ribcage. “Tell me.”
Stefan let me go, handing me a wad of tissues from his pocket. “I think I’d better show you.” Standing, he held out a hand to help me up.
My knees shook.
My back ached.
My eyes burned.
But I couldn’t shake the thought I’d missed something. That all of this...this pain and suffering...
“Captain, we’ll come back tomorrow. We can go over the bases then.” Taking my elbow, Stefan guided me toward the exit.
The captain waved. “No problem. Oh, and, Miss. Please don’t worry about anything. The clothing, the food, the medical attention, even your room. Everything you require is at the pleasure of P&O cruise lines.” He lowered his head importantly. “Anything at all.”
I should thank him.
I should show gratitude for such a gift.
But I couldn’t.
Because somehow, somewhy, somewhat...my brain unlocked another memory.
Him.
He’d been here.
On this boat.
Galloway.
Chapter Sixty-Four
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
“DO YOU BELIEVE me now?”
Stefan let me go the moment we entered the tiny room with beeping noises and a single cot pushed up against the wall.
We’d descended in the lift.
We’d walked along the corridors.
We’d entered the medical wing.
And with every step, my heart slowly stole back its existence from snarling tears, welcoming hope instead.
I didn’t know what I did first.
Laughed.
Cried.
Collapsed
Danced.
Perhaps, all four at once.
One moment, I stood beside Stefan in the doorway. The next, I was sprawled on his chest.
His.
The man I loved.
The man I’d left.
The man who’d died.
“Oh, my God.” I kissed him. Over and over and over.
He didn’t wake up.
Stefan came closer. He didn’t tell me to climb from the cot. He didn’t tell me I was crushing his patient.
He was wise.
Instead, he said, “His system is severely exhausted and the infection has stolen whatever reserves he had left. He’ll wake up when he’s ready. But he’s alive, and we’ll do everything we can to keep him that way.”
He’s alive.
I didn’t have to choose.