Chapter Seventeen
Ella
“So, Ella.” Marco Marcos clasped his hands together, and Ella’s attention was drawn to his hairy knuckles. The man could make a family set of jumpers out of all that hair. “You’re halfway through your time here at Sandy Springs. How’s things?”
She leaned back in the squeaky chair, mulling her words before answering. “Better. It just feels like time is going too fast.”
He scratched at his beard, regarding her over his square glasses. “If you could slow down time…what would you like to do with those extra hours here?”
Her mind jumped to Riley. Every moment they’d spent together, even the bad days, Ella wished she could do them all over again. Every touch, every smile, every time those kind blue eyes flicked to hers. The first time she’d made Riley laugh. The first time they’d had sex. Ella wanted it all back. She didn’t want to think about the lasts that were edging over the horizon.
She sighed, chewing at her bottom lip. Despite her best intentions to focus on herself and avoid a holiday romance, she couldn’t help falling for the tall Irish yoga instructor.
But she was also falling for the island too.
The wild sea and sandy shores, the calls of the birds dipping over the sculpted cliffs, the friendly locals, and the smell of the orange groves. Bernardo the cockerel, the mischievous goats, all the beauty hiding in plain sight. How she spent more time looking up at the sky instead of at her phone. How being here, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin, made her believe in herself again.
Her gaze refocused, pulling her back to the room. “I would just…be.”
He twirled the pen between his fingers. “Can you expand on that?”
“I’m really enjoying my time here. I would just keep doing what I’m doing.”
Marco scribbled in his pad, eyebrows pulling together in concentration. He tapped his pen on the paper and clicked his tongue. “When you first arrived, Ella, you said you needed a break. Do you feel you’ve been successful with that?”
She nodded. Her days of pencil skirts and expensive coffee seemed like another lifetime. All those nights spent staying late with the computer screen, making herself miserable as Maeve pranced Annabelle in front of her face. The last thing she’d want would be to go back to that. Not that she could, anyway. She was very much unemployed. “Definitely,” she said. “I feel distanced from my old life, but in a good way. Like my perspective has shifted. I feel…lighter.”
He hummed. Scribbled some more. Then he looked up. “You mentioned your perspective has changed. What things have you viewed differently since being here?”
“Most things.” He waited for her to continue, studying her face with intensity. Ella let out a humourless laugh. “I think I’d been putting my energy into the wrong places.” Maeve sprang into her mind, all taunting long legs and sharp features. The thought of her passed without leaving an acid trail in its wake. “I let those places drain me, and then didn’t fill the space up with anything that actually made me happy. I can see why my mum and best friend thought I should come here. I’m…grateful for that.”
“Good. Sometimes the only thing we have control over is perspective. How we utilise that can be powerful.” He flicked his pen as if to emphasise his point. Then his gaze softened. “Would you like to expand on that? ”
Ella sighed. Since her conversation with Riley in the orange grove, the relationship with her mum had been playing on her mind. “I always thought my mum was pressuring me to be like my brother. Rubbing his achievements in my face. Wishing I could be more like him, but…I think that was how I chose to see it. I put that pressure on myself. I wasn’t happy with my life, so I pushed my family away. I hated how that made me feel.” Emotion swelled in her chest, and she paused, taking a moment to feel it. “Being here…I don’t blame Mum. I’m trying not to blame myself, but…there’s still a lot of hurt there.”
“That’s understandable. It takes time to let that go. Don’t rush yourself. Everyone heals at different paces.” He observed her carefully. “It’s also important not to overlook how your mother’s behaviour shaped this feeling. Your feelings are valid, and it’s important to express them to build healthier relationships.”
Ella nodded, picking at the pocket of her shorts. “I’m going to have a real talk with her when I’m back and get everything out on the table. I want to be closer with her again.” She could use Riley’s landline phone to call her mum, but some things were better saved for in person.
“I’m happy to see you making progress.” The smallest of smiles inched onto his face as he made notes. Then he glanced back up, pinning her with his steady gaze. “We can practise some run-through scenarios if you’d like. That might build your confidence to fully address the conversation once you’re home. ”
Home . The word punched straight into Ella’s ribs, leaving her breathless.
As much as she wanted to see Winnie and her family, the thought of going home made everything inside her shrivel like a prune. She couldn’t stay here forever. The course was three weeks, and she’d known that from the start—but what she hadn’t known was how much she’d love it here. How much she’d love the version of Ella that had bloomed on the island.
Going back to her apartment, jobless, with no real purpose, made her chest tighten. Would she lose all her progress? The very idea wound its way into her lungs, sucking out all the air, suffocating her. Throwing saying goodbye to Riley into the mix—possibly forever—pricked the back of her eyelids.
How could I ever say goodbye to her?
She swallowed the lump that’d wedged in her throat but couldn’t find anything to say. The scraping of Marco’s pen intensified in her ears. Scratch. Scribble. Scratch. What could he be writing about this? Did he know? Could he see the fear in her face? The clock ticked loudly from the wall opposite, reminding her of every second slipping through her fingers.
“You look like there’s something you want to say.” Marco’s gravelly voice cut through the mania swirling in Ella’s brain.
Her gaze flicked from the wall to his piercing stare, and she opened her mouth to speak, to scream, to let everything out that was building and building—because she couldn’t understand how a feeling that was so amazing could also feel so incredibly terrible.
She forced a small smile. “I’m fine.”
* * *
Ella’s sandals slapped against the path as she put as much distance between Marco Marcos’s office and herself as possible. Conflicting emotions surged through her. On the one hand, she was mad that she’d predictably fallen for someone who, while wonderful, couldn’t give her what she needed. Riley would never leave the island. She’d said multiple times how much Senhor Arenoso was like a father to her, and thinking of the island without Riley there would be like stripping away the sun from it.
Ella didn’t want to impose on Riley’s life, either. If she did stay—assuming Riley would even want that—what would she do? Sure, she could lounge about all day and roam the island, but it would become tiresome eventually. She was a worker at heart. She needed purpose. A challenge. She could hardly teach yoga.
Ella had taken the path up to Riley’s cabin without thinking about it. She wouldn’t be in; she was having some sort of meeting with Senhor Arenoso and had seemed pretty nervous about it. But that meant Ella had time to recuperate, away from the afternoon people traffic, and hopefully get some Ziggy cuddles too.
She hopped up the steps, breathed in the sweet floral scent of the bushes, and sat cross-legged overlooking the sea. The trees swayed their branches in the breeze, creaking and blending with the cry of the birds diving over the waves.
Marco Marcos’s session had sent her mind into a tangle, but Ella had new techniques for sorting it out. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing. The air filled her lungs, stretching out and touching every section of her skin before she released it, imagining the particles floating up into the blue sky.
It’s a shame that this technique will always make me think of her.
She’ll forget me.
But I won’t forget her.
The lines between Ella’s eyes deepened as she squeezed them tighter. Her heart quickened in her chest as she caught on a thought.
Is she going to forget me?
She wanted to trust her gut instinct and believe that Riley felt the same as she did. But her instinct had led her down the wrong path before. Look at her and Maeve.
What if this was part of Riley’s work cycle? Picking up a woman down on her luck and waving goodbye before the next plane landed?
Riley isn’t like that.
Are you sure?
Images of Riley flashed behind her eyelids. Taking other faceless women with beautiful bodies to the hot springs, laughing and flirting and touching skin. Would she teach them how to surf? How to paint? Skinny-dip together? Share Madeira cakes and massages and let them share her bed?
No. Even the thought was too much. Ella let out a sob, feeling a tug from deep in her chest. She opened her eyes and looked out at the sea, letting the tears slip silently down her cheeks. She followed a dozen waves as they rolled, frothed, and collapsed on the shore, then closed her eyes again, letting her breathing take centre stage.
A while passed before her mind emptied, each thought tugging Ella in another direction before she let it pass by on the breeze.
“Ella.” Riley’s voice jolted her, and she spun to see her standing in the doorway, surfboard under her arm. Her damp hair hung loose over one shoulder of her swimsuit, her cargo shorts spotted with drips.
Ella’s heart skipped until she caught the frown lines either side of Riley’s mouth. “Is everything okay?” she asked, pushing herself to her feet. She groaned as fire spread through her limbs. She’d been sitting on the stone too long.
“You tell me.” Riley put her surfboard down, leaning it against the window. “Why have I just had Pauline bring me flowers?”
She grimaced. “Is that what your meeting with Senhor Arenoso was about?”
“What?” Riley’s eyebrows drew together. “No. No… She brought them to me as I left the beach. Luckily. ”
Ella imagined Pauline serenading with a bouquet of roses and let out a laugh.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know. Sorry.” Ella squashed her mouth into a line but could still feel laughter tickling the edges.
“Would you know anything about it? Why Pauline felt she had to ‘let me down gently’?” She used air quotes to puncture her words.
Ella blew out a breath. Riley’s seriousness sobered her. “She may have mentioned something about it—”
“Ella. Why didn’t you say anything?” She threw her hands up. “Do you have any idea how bad this could look for me if Senhor Arenoso finds out?”
This again. Yes, she knew all too well. She was sick of having to hide all the time. It drained her, and even though she knew Riley wasn’t like Maeve, it still caused an ache from somewhere within her heart. But she gritted her teeth; she didn’t want to say anything she’d regret. Their time was already dwindling. “It was just a bit of fun. She was saying stuff about me and you, so I just steered her off the scent.”
“Wait. Is that why she came surfing?”
“I think so.”
Riley shook her head, chewing at her lip. Ella didn’t miss the lines etching deeper into her forehead. “You can’t mess with people’s feelings like that. I just had to explain the rules between staff and clients to her and give the flowers back. It’s embarrassing and awkward, and I just feel like…” She let out a heavy sigh. “Such a hy pocrite.”
Ella reached out an arm to comfort her, but she took a step towards the door.
“I think you should go.” Riley’s gaze was cast to the floor. She wouldn’t even look at her now?
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Riley lingered in the doorway but didn’t react. “I’ve had a long day. I just need some space.”
Ella swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay.” It’s already happening. “Sure.” You’re too much, Ella. She took a step back, and Riley went inside, leaving Ella standing awkwardly on the stone. She spun and descended the steps two at a time, her heartrate climbing. Her mind bombarded her with thoughts again, but this time, she couldn’t stop them piling and piling and making it harder to breathe.
The end was coming, and all she wanted to do was run. Why delay the inevitable?