24. BLUE
BLUE
He held me until dawn broke over the little bed we’d made on the floor of the lighthouse. It was funny how neither of us had touched the actual bed tucked into the corner beside the wardrobe ever since we discovered the bugs sleeping there.
His fingers traced slow circles over my shoulder as I lay with my head in his lap, wrapped in his shirt. I wondered how his cologne had survived all these days. Even after countless trips out to sea, the warm, woody scent still clung to the fabric, surrounding me.
He looked down at me, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Does this mean there are no more secrets between us?” I whispered, lacing my fingers through his hand.
He swallowed, his gaze moving away.
I pushed myself up and shuffled closer until my thigh brushed his. Lifting my hand, I cupped his jaw, guiding his face back towards me with the tips of my fingers.
“You can talk to me.”
“No,” he whispered. “Not if it means you hate me all over again.”
“Is your secret really that bad? Bad enough to risk losing me over it?” I asked, holding his gaze.
“Fuck.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, slammed both palms over his face, then dragged them down twice with a shaky breath.
“Promise you won’t get mad.”
“I can’t promise that when you’re acting like it’s something terrible.”
“It isn’t that bad,” he sighed. “It’s just…”
“Tell me,” I said softly, resting my palm against his chest.
His heart hammered beneath my hand. It was fast and uneven. Frightened.
A thousand possibilities raced through my mind, yet the panic thudding beneath my fingertips told me the truth before he ever spoke. Whatever he was about to say was worse than anything that went through my mind.
“Okay,” he whispered, turning to face me. “Do you remember when Nikki came to the Light Festival in 2001?”
I nodded, my fingers tightening against his shirt at the mere mention of her.
“A month before that, she came to one of my parties. We slept together,” he said, swallowing hard before forcing himself to continue. “Then, that night at the Light Festival she came to find me and told me she was pregnant.”
Something cinched painfully around my chest, even though I still didn’t know where the story was leading.
“She decided to keep the baby, but I didn’t want it. I told her it was never part of my plan. I pushed her so far away that she ended up in London, and she never let me see him.”
His words sliced through me like razor sharp glass shards.
“Him?” I whispered as tears slipped down my cheeks.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I have a son.”
My jaw tightened as my lips parted. A hollow, broken laugh escaped me, and I took a step back from him.
“I still take care of them financially, but I’ve never seen him.
When she gave birth, my assistant called to ask if I wanted to name him.
I suggested a few names, but that’s all I’ve ever been in his life,” he said, his voice trembling as he searched my face.
“I wanted to see him a few times, but Nikki stopped me.”
I blinked twice, trying to hold back the tears, and just stared at him in silence.
“Say something.”
He reached for my hand, but I pulled away, struggling to get to my feet. The moment I stood, I dragged my injured foot behind me, limping away.
“Please.”
He got up and tried to catch me, but I slipped out of his reach.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It just happened. Don’t be mad, please.” He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes darting over my face. “Is it because of Nikki?” he whispered, grasping for an explanation. “Is it because she was your friend?”
“No!” I shot back, backing towards the door. “It was never about her.” My voice cracked under the weight of my tears. “It’s about you, Oliver.”
A broken groan tore from my throat. My hands curled into fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.
“You stupid, clueless asshole,” I spat. “Don’t you get it?”
I turned to face him fully.
“That baby…” My voice caught. “That innocent baby is going to grow up without a father because you didn’t want to take responsibility for your own actions.” I shook my head, anger burning through every word. “You had your dick in half of Amalfi and never once stopped to think this might happen.”
The muscles in my neck tightened until they turned into pain.
“And I’m not fucking mad because you slept with Nikki.” My hands flew to my face. “Cazzo!” I screamed. “She was never my friend, and I don’t give two shits about her.”
His eyes searched mine, trying to understand, trying to find whatever he thought he had missed.
“You know what it’s like to grow up without a parent.
You know how much it hurts.” My voice shook.
“You were bullied because you didn’t have a mom.
So was I, because my dad left me.” I jabbed a finger towards his chest. “And you still chose to become just like our parents because you didn’t want the responsibility. ”
“Hey.” He stepped closer, reaching for me again, trying to pull me into his arms.
“No.”
I shoved him back before he could touch me.
“And what reassurance can you give me,” I whispered, my chest heaving, “that if the same happened to me, you wouldn’t walk away too? That you wouldn’t run because you were scared?”
He stood silently in the middle of the lighthouse, trying to make sense of everything I’d just said.
It had never been about Nikki, or even about him sleeping with other women.
It was the fact that he knew what it felt like to grow up without a parent.
He knew the emptiness it carved inside you, the hole it left behind, and he still chose to do the same to his own child because he’d rather keep partying and fucking around while she raised that little boy alone.
God, I hated him for that.
I hated him because he was a stupid man who thought with his dick, and the moment he made a mistake, he’d rather erase it than face it. I hated him because, standing there, he looked just like my father. Just like every man who walked away and left a woman to carry all that guilt and pain alone.
And my greatest fear had always been ending up like that. With a few words, he’d ripped it wide open, all my fears.
“I should leave,” I said, dragging my injured foot behind me.
“And go where?” he asked, a bitter laugh escaping him. He turned, throwing his hands into the air in frustration.
I frowned. “Anywhere but here.”
“We’re on a bloody island!” he shouted.
I stepped outside.
My eyes locked onto his. My toes dug into the rough rock as I turned to face him fully. My jaw clenched until it hurt, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
“I’d rather drown than spend another minute here with you.”
Then I slammed the door shut and limped away, each uneven step carrying me closer to the shore.
It’s been thirty minutes since I heard his footsteps behind me.
He still stayed close, watching over me even though we were both angry, both hurting because of what he’d done.
I kept turning over every word he’d said, searching for something that would make it easier to understand, but nothing could excuse it.
Once, I heard my mother talking to someone who told her we can’t stop men from doing whatever the fuck they want, but we can guide them towards the right decisions.
I kept trying to figure out which direction he needed to take to fix what he’d done, and every path led back to Amalfi, to leaving me and being with Nikki instead.
Deep down, I knew I couldn’t ask that of him because I didn’t want him to leave me.
I needed him here. But I also knew she needed him too, and so did his son.
In the end, it was a decision only he could make, and all I could do was accept it.
I turned, searching for him. I think he felt it because the moment I looked back, he started walking towards me. The sun was almost up now, washing the last traces of pink from the sky until only a pale blue stayed.
He sat beside me, pulling his legs up and resting his arms across his knees. His fingers twisted together, fidgeting restlessly in front of him.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he rested on top of mine.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“No, you don’t,” he replied.
“But I want to.”
“I know.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
His restless fingers rose to my cheek, gently cupping it as he turned towards me until we were face to face.
His lips found mine for a brief kiss, gone before I could sink into it, leaving me in need for the slow kisses we shared just moments before.
Then he brushed his lips against the tip of my nose before pressing another soft kiss to my forehead.
“I thought about what you said,” he said softly. “I know I’m an asshole, and nothing can excuse what I did. I’m not trying to justify it, but I want to change.” He rested his forehead against mine. “You make me a better person, and I want to be better for you.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“For a moment, I wanted to ask you to go back to her.”
“What stopped you?” he asked, his hand settling on my jaw while his thumb slowly brushed across my cheek.
“The thought of losing you.” My eyes searched his.
“I wouldn’t go back to her,” he said with a faint smile. “But I do want to meet my son.”
“You said your assistant asked about names,” I said. “What did you choose for him?”
His eyes lit up.
“Blue.” He swallowed. “His name is Elliot Blue.”
I bit my lower lip, warmth raising in my chest.
“You named him after me?”
“Technically, no.” He laughed. “After your nickname.”
“You’re such a smart ass.” I shoved his shoulder. “Does she know?”
“She knows.” He nodded. “I think, out of everything, she regrets hurting you the most. She once told me you were the only friend she ever had, and she lost you.”
A lump rose in my throat and refused to go down.
I’d never thought about her that way. I’d never stopped to wonder how she felt because I’d spent all this time thinking about how she made me feel. Maybe that’s what we all do. We see our own wounds first, before we notice someone else’s.
“Olly.”
“Yes, Blue?”
“If we survive this, promise me you’ll hate me again.”
I looked at him before turning towards the horizon that had terrified me for so long. Somehow, it didn’t seem as frightening anymore, even though fear still stayed quietly inside me.
“Because this is unbearable.”
“What is?”
“Loving you.”
“You… love me?” he repeated, drawing out each word.
“I’ve loved you all this time.”
I pulled him closer, crashing my lips against his.
His mouth claimed mine instantly, his tongue slipping between my lips until they tangled together in a slow, desperate dance.
His hand slid to the back of my head, holding me against him as he deepened the kiss, as though he couldn’t bear to leave even an inch between us.
I caught his lower lip between my teeth, tugging it gently, and a smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
My fingers brushed along his jaw. The face that was usually clean-shaven was now rough beneath my fingertips, a few days’ worth of stubble covering his cheeks and chin.
I smiled.
“I have to ask you something. A thought just crossed my mind.”
“Are we going to fight afterwards?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed. “Did you tie Lorenzo up in front of my house?”
His forehead dropped against mine as he let out a quiet laugh.
“I found out he bullied you, so I gave him a taste of his own medicine.”
“Legend says he is still there singing a song,” I laughed.“What song?” he asked with a smile, looking at me.
“I think it goes…” I sang softly.
“Call not her name when fog is near,
The drowned still watch, the drowned still hear.
A lantern glows where none should be…
Another soul belongs to the sea.”
“Blue,” he said suddenly. “I think Gianni might be alive.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“There’s this story my father used to tell me when we were kids.
It’s about an island near Amalfi. Part of it’s been bought and turned into a hotel now, but there’s a lighthouse there that was built in 1809.
” He paused, piecing the memory together.
“He always said it was built for everyone who drowned in the shipwreck. There’s a marker with an arrow that points to where the ship sank, and it wasn’t here at Li Galli.
The map was wrong. I think Gianni figured that out. ”
“But the letter says…” I whispered.
“If my mum was referring to the gold, she might’ve been using that word for the paintings she stole.
But the real gold could be somewhere else.
I think Gianni wanted everyone to believe he was dead so he could find it before Bianchi and my father figured it out.
We never gave him the chance to reappear.
We left the island and made our own conclusions.
” His expression softened. “If he’s alive, I’m willing to fight for you, even if he never approves. ”
We’d been so wrapped up in our own distractions that, for a while, we forgot about all of it. About Gianni, Isabella, Bianchi… Everyone whose lives were tangled up in theirs, everyone still in danger as long as they were out there.
For a moment, the thought that Gianni might still be alive made my heart race. If we ever made it off this island, another battle would be waiting for us, and this time it wouldn’t be about survival. It would be about us.
Here, it was easy. There was no one else.
Out there, there was everyone.
And I was terrified we wouldn’t survive that.
“Whatever gold is out there, whatever he was searching for…” I lifted my face to his. “I hope he found happiness, because I don’t want to lose mine. Not here with you. Not over the hope that there’s something else out there worth chasing.”
He looked at me.
“Are you afraid of us out there?” he asked, then answered his own question before I could speak.
“We’ll have to leave one day. Tomorrow, in a month, or in a year.
But you never, ever have to be afraid for us somewhere else, because the way I feel about you now is the same way I’ll feel whether we’re here, in the middle of the ocean, across it, or in London. ” He drew a slow breath and let it out.
“Feelings don’t change because of a location. They change when people decide to change them.”
“Are you saying you have the same feelings I do?” My eyes lit up as I read between his words.
“Yes, Blue.” He sighed. “There isn’t a storm wild enough or an ocean deep enough to keep me away from you. And I hate you for that, because I can’t fucking live without you.”
He leaned over me, easing me down onto the rocks beneath us. “I would rather die in a world with you than live in a world without you.”
His knee slipped between my legs, gently parting them as his hand glided slowly over my thigh. His eyes never left mine.
“You saved me from myself,” he whispered. “But let me hate you a little more, because this… this is too good for it to end.”