Chapter Thirteen
Meredith
The sun dips toward the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks that reflect off the serene, crystal-clear waters of Heirani Motu. I feel the soft, warm sand between my toes as Ryan and I stroll hand in hand along the secluded beach, our footprints leaving trails behind us, like memories being created with every step. The tranquil sound of waves lapping against the shore echoes around us while Ryan and I continue to amble down the shore.
But it does little to calm the queasiness in my stomach. There's a storm potentially barreling toward the island. But for now, for tonight, I'll try to banish those thoughts from my mind.
I sneak a glance at Ryan, admiring the way the fading sunlight accentuates his chiseled features. My heart flutters as I contemplate telling him how I feel—that I want to be with him forever, that I love him. Whether he feels that way...I don't know.
"Meredith, there's, ah...something I need to tell you."
We stop walking, and I turn to face him. But I can't stop myself from ringing my hands, waiting for a bomb to drop. "What is it, sweetie?"
I listen intently, fighting the urge to interject or offer solutions. This is Ryan's moment to express his concerns, and I'm sure he needs to get it all out in one go. So, I focus on the warmth of his hand in mine.
"This position...it's more than just work for me, Meredith. It's been my sanctuary, my haven from the past." He grasps both my hands, facing me, his expression earnest. "I might never have come out of my shell if it weren't for you. I might never have dealt with the pain of that botched mission either. But you saved me, and I'll always be grateful for that."
Why does it sound like he's saying goodbye? "What's wrong? Are you getting fired? Oh god, are you sick?"
He smiles and shakes his head, chuckling softly. "No, Mer, it's nothing like that. I'm trying to say...I love you."
"Huh?"
Ryan clasps my face in both hands. "I'm in love with you, Meredith. You're like a burst of sunshine that lights up the whole world. Your spirit and your sense of adventure—it's infectious."
I suddenly feel like a shy teenager at the prom. "Well, someone's got to keep you on your toes, Mr. Kimble."
"You make me want to be less rigid. To take risks. To seize every day and make the most of it."
"What risks were you talking about?"
He scratches his cheek, seeming almost sheepish. "I have to start with my friend Tucker. For years, he's been my anchor, the one person I could truly confide in, the only one who knew about my nightmares."
"That's understandable. You both experienced that horrific mission."
"I'm trying to explain that I want to share everything with you." He hesitates, then stands up straighter. "I was hoping you might want to become that person for me. If you can handle my baggage."
"Oh, Ryan." I throw my arms around him. "Your baggage is mine too because...I love you."
For a moment, we simply stand here embracing each other. Then we both smile, I realize we both want this—to be together, on this island, always. Is that even possible? Ryan is the interim general manager. James and Holly probably expect to take over again once their vacation is over.
Ryan and I start our trek back up the main trail. My heart feels full, thanks to our newfound intimacy, yet there's also a bittersweet ache as reality creeps in. Less than two weeks. That's all we have left, according to the calendar. I find myself holding out the faint hope that James and Holly won't come back, and that Ryan and I might run the resort together.
We proceed in companionable silence for the rest of our walk, and I find myself making a mental catalog of every sprig of lush foliage, every stunning flower, and every gorgeous creature on Heirani Motu. The vibrant birdsong that usually fills the air has quieted, as if nature itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what becomes of us.
As we approach the main resort building, our steps slow. I know we need to part ways, but every fiber of my being rebels against the idea. Ryan's hand tightens on mine for a brief moment before he lets go.
"I need some time to think," he tells me, his voice husky with emotion. "We both do. After all, I'm only the interim general manager. We shouldn't make plans, not yet."
"You're right," I say, my voice tight. "We'll figure this out, Ryan. Together or...whatever comes next."
He gives me one last look, a mix of tenderness and torment, before turning away. I watch him go, his lean figure disappearing around the corner of the building. The sudden absence of his warmth leaves me feeling adrift.
Sighing, I make my way to the dining hall, my appetite gone but knowing I should at least make an appearance. My friends wave me over, their smiles faltering as they take in my demeanor.
"Mer, what's wrong?" Lila asks with concern etching her features.
I shrug, attempting to seem nonchalant. "Just...a lot on my mind."
My friends exchange glances as if a silent conversation has passed between them. Then Zara stands up. "That's it. We're having an emergency miniten match. Right now."
Before I can protest, they're pulling me toward the beach. While we set up the net, I can't help but scan the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryan. But he's nowhere to be seen, and the pit in my stomach grows.
"Serve's up!" Lila calls out, snapping me back to the present.
I throw myself into the game, grateful for the distraction. But even as I laugh and dive for the ball, I can't shake the feeling that something monumental is shifting. The paradise around me—the swaying palms, the pristine sand, the crystal-clear water—seems to mock my inner turmoil with its serenity.
By the time the match is over, the sun is setting in earnest. But I can't get excited about the beautiful sunset. As the last rays disappear beneath the horizon, I wonder if Ryan and I will find our way back to each other, or if this magical interlude is destined to remain just that—a beautiful, fleeting moment in time. After a restless night's sleep, filled with dreams of Ryan, I can't take it anymore. The suspense is killing me, and I need to talk to him.
My friends and I are sitting at a table on the auxiliary patio, sipping cocktails that have cute little umbrellas.
I jump out of my chair. "Sorry, girls. I've got to...check on something."
Before they can respond, I'm dashing across the patio, my feet carrying me swiftly toward the main resort building. My heart pounds as I push through the doors, making a beeline for Ryan's office. When I finally reach his door, I'm panting. I knock, but there's no answer. Pushing the open, I find the room empty.
"Looking for Ryan?" Emilio's voice startles me.
I whirl around. "Yes, have you seen him?"
"He's up on the mountain," Emilio announces. "ATV broke down. Guests can't go zip-lining."
"Thanks!" I call over my shoulder, already halfway down the hall.
Although the hike up the steep mountain trail is grueling, my determination propels me onward. When I finally spot Ryan, he's bent over the ATV, tools scattered around him. He looks up, his eyes widening as they meet mine. Sweat glistens on his brow, and a smudge of grease marks his chiseled jaw. He's shed his shirt, and his chest rises and falls with every breath.
"Meredith? I didn't expect to see you out here."
I shrug. "Been looking for you everywhere. The beach, the dining hall, even your bungalow. I was starting to think you'd vanished into thin air." I pause, trying to gauge his reaction. "It was Emilio who finally pointed me in the right direction."
"Just finished," he pronounces, patting the ATV. "Should be good to go now."
I watch as he explains the repairs to the waiting guests, his voice steady and authoritative. Once they've zoomed off toward the zip-line, he turns back to me and wipes his hands on a rag, the muscles in his arms flexing with the motion.
"You hiked all the way up here?" he asks, a note of surprise, maybe even concern, in his voice.
"It wasn't that difficult," I say with a shrug, though my voice is quavering slightly. "Have you, um, reached a decision yet? About us?"
He doesn't respond immediately, and the silence stretches between us like a chasm.
Finally, I can't bear it any longer. "Remember that time we tried to catch fireflies behind the waterfall?" I blurt out, trying to inject some levity into the moment. "I've never seen anyone look so ridiculous covered in mud."
A ghost of a smile flickers across Ryan's face. "I get what you're doing, Mer."
I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me more. The silence stretches on and on while the sounds of the jungle—chirping insects, distant bird calls, the rustle of leaves in the breeze—fill in the gap. When he takes a step closer, for a moment, I think he's going to pull me into his arms. Instead, he reaches for his shirt and slips it on, his movements slow and deliberate.
My attempt at deflection has crumbled. I'd promised myself no more hiding, no more running from my feelings. Time to live up to that vow.
I stand up straighter. "I need to know what you want, Ryan. Are we a couple or not? We both said the L word."
He just watches me, impassive.
Now it's time to make one last confession, to be sure he understands my limitations. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I need to say next. "I was tossing and turning all night, worrying about how you might react to my bombshell. It's something I should've told your much earlier, but I was...afraid. I need you to understand something. I can't have children. And you're young, Ryan. You probably want a family of your own someday. And I—I don't want to hold you back from that."
The words hang in the air between us, heavy with the weight of possibility and heartache.
My pulse pounds as I watch Ryan's face, searching for any sign of his thoughts. He moves one step closer, his body brushing against mine, and I can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"Meredith, I—" he starts, then stops. His hand reaches for mine, and I feel a surge of hope.
But before he can finish, a shrill ring cuts through the air. Ryan's phone. He hesitates, then pulls it out with an apologetic glance.
"Emilio?" he answers. "What? Slow down."
I watch as Ryan's expression shifts from confusion to concern. "The tropical cyclone? How soon?"
My stomach drops. A cyclone is actually coming? Here? I knew it was a nebulous possibility, but now it seems to be a reality. The idyllic paradise of Heirani Motu suddenly feels fragile.
Ryan ends the call and looks at me, sighing as he wipes a hand over his mouth. "Meredith, I'm sorry."
"I know," I interrupt, forcing a smile. "Duty calls, right?"
He nods, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. The air between us is electric, charged with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. I want to throw myself into his arms, to tell him to forget about the storm and just be with me. But I can't. That's not who Ryan is, and it's not who I am either.
"Go," I murmur. "Everyone's counting on you. We can finish our conversation late."
Ryan hesitates, then turns to leave. I watch him walk away, his shoulders tense but his head held high. As he disappears around the corner, I can't shake the feeling that I've just lost something precious. I shake my head, trying to clear the melancholy thoughts.
"Get it together, woman. He's got a job to do, and he can't hold your hand while he's doing that."
I pull in a deep breath and blow it out, then I turn and head in the opposite direction, determined to find my friends and warn them about the incoming storm. But even as I pick up my pace, I can't quite silence the little voice in my head that wonders if this interruption has changed things between Ryan and me.
While I make my way down the mountain trail, a breeze picks up, and I experience a pang of anxiety. The cyclone clearly hasn't come close to Heirani Motu yet. But I've never been through a storm like this before, and I wish I had Ryan at my side, holding me close and murmuring that everything will be okay. The once-serene jungle now feels ominous. My mind races, torn between worry about the impending cyclone and the unfinished conversation with Ryan.
I spot Zara and the others still on the miniten court, laughing as they pack up the net and the thugs. Their carefree mood feels jarring against my internal turmoil.
"Girls!" I call out, jogging toward them. "We need to get ready. There's a cyclone coming."
Their smiles crumble as they notice my serious expression.
"Are you sure?" Lila asks, her eyes wide with concern.
"Ryan just got the call," I inform her. "We should head back to our rooms to wait for instructions. Why don't we all hang out in Zara's suite until then? The more the merrier, right?"
My best friends agree with my plan, and we watch silly Australian comedies on TV while we wait for the hammer to drop.
And I pray the cyclone misses the island.