Episode 170
EPISODE 170
CATHARSIS
Sebastian
“What do you mean there were five of you?” Emily queries. “I don’t understand.”
I breathe in and set my guitar down. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
The server interrupts us with an appetizer of coconut shrimp with mango salsa. “The shrimp are coated in a crispy mixture of shredded coconut and panko breadcrumbs. The salsa is a mix of ripe mango, diced red onion, chopped cilantro, lime juice, and a hint of jalapeno for a touch of heat. Enjoy.” He bows and leaves quickly.
“Are you going to answer me?” Emily asks again as she swirls a shrimp in the salsa.
“No,” I say. “I’m not.”
She rolls her eyes. “Very well, then. This will be a long dinner if we don’t speak.” She takes a bite of shrimp.
We sit in silence, the only noise the clinking of our silverware and the crashing of the waves in the distance. I pick at my food, glancing at her every so often. Emily's icy blue eyes are piercing, yet so alluring. They hold a certain intensity that I’ve been drawn to since the first night.
The server returns with an avocado and citrus salad.
We murmur our thanks, and I take a sip of my bourbon.
Emily eats slowly and with sophistication. She seems so worldly, though maybe it’s just her classy British accent.
We finish our salads, and then our main course of grilled mahi mahi with pineapple and roasted root vegetables.
Silence...
Sometimes I like it.
Though I can tell Emily is biting her tongue to keep from talking. She’s usually pretty blunt, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. After all, she chose Alex for this date. I’m simply the consolation prize. Consequently, I don’t feel the need to be overly entertaining, despite the fact that I’d take her to bed in an instant.
Hell, who wouldn’t?
Our server clears the table and then offers dessert. “Papaya and coconut cream parfait,” he says, sliding the glass dishes in front of us, “with toasted macadamia nuts.”
Once he’s gone, Emily finally speaks.
“You can keep your secrets, Sebastian,” she says. “And I’ll keep mine.”
“You have secrets?” I ask.
“I have one in particular that only one other person on this island knows.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and I’ll keep it to myself. Unless you’d like to share yours.”
I sigh. Part of me wants to spill everything. We’ve all kept it inside for so long that it’s festered like a wound that never had the chance to heal, just growing worse over time until it spreads so deep that there’s nothing left to do.
I open my mouth to say something—anything—when Misty and Brett walk by us.
“How’s your evening going?” Brett asks.
“Great,” I say. “You want to join us?”
Misty snarls at that, and across from me, Emily doesn’t look too happy either.
Big faux pas on my part. The truth of the matter is that I don’t know what I’m doing here. The thought of spending time with Heather excited me. And Emily? I found her so bewitching that first night, but she’s made it clear I’m not her first choice this evening.
“Another time,” Brett says. He takes Misty’s arm and they continue walking.
I look down the coastline and see another table set up in the distance. “I guess they chose dinner on the beach as well,” I say.
“Yes, bully for them,” Emily says dryly.
I take a bite of my parfait. It’s delicious, of course. Everything has been so far. Evangeline planned this perfectly. The chefs she hired are top-notch.
But she’s made some mistakes—like not having a medical professional here on the island. We’re lucky that Ginger took care of Rachel on the catamaran, and that Ariel’s injury during the cook-off was only superficial. The doctor should be arriving tomorrow.
Then there are the threats Ginger and Rachel received. Misty and her shenanigans. Evie’s pregnancy and the danger she’s allegedly in.
I need a fucking break from all of that.
I finish my dessert. Emily is nearly done .
What the hell? We were hot and heavy for each other the first night. Why not go for it?
I clear my throat.
“Yes?” she says.
“I could beat around the bush,” I say. “I could tell you how beautiful you are, but you already know that. I could serenade you some more?—”
“I’d actually like that,” she says.
I cock my head. “You would?”
“Are you kidding me? Your voice is beautiful, and that song...” She sighs. “About the five of you.”
Fuck. Back to that again.
“Yes, there were five of us,” I say. “We lost one when we were fifteen.”
She gasps. “I’m so sorry. What happened? Was there an accident?”
I shake my head slowly. “He took his own life.”
“Oh, Sebastian... I shouldn’t have pushed. Please accept my apology.”
I rub my forehead. “Emily, it was twenty years ago.”
“But it still affects you deeply. I can see it in your face. I hear it in the song you sang.”
“The song I sang about the four of us.”
“Why? Why not write about the five of you? It would be cathartic, I would think.”
God, so many reasons. Because of the crime we committed. Because of others who died. Because of secrets buried so deep, we almost convinced ourselves they never happened. But they did, and they’ve been clawing their way back to the surface ever since.
We all should have known that we couldn't outrun the truth forever. It was only a matter of time before the weight of it all came crashing down, suffocating us, forcing us to face what we did. We thought we could hide, bury the past like it would disappear. But no matter how deep you dig, it always finds a way to rise again.
“Cathartic?” I finally say. “No, Emily, it wouldn’t be cathartic. It would tear everything wide open. It would unravel everything we’ve spent years trying to hold together. There’s no release in talking about something like this. There’s only pain, and it wouldn’t stop. It would haunt us all over again.”
Emily reaches across the table and takes my hand. “My God, Sebastian. What the hell happened to torture you like this?”