Chapter Thirty
Now
When her well of tears ran dry, Piper splashed water on her face and wiped her eyes with the hem of her beach cover-up. Drawing
in a shaky breath, she forced herself to stand. From here on out, she would be strong. She had to be. This island adventure
had taught her one thing—she was braver than she’d thought. More resilient. She’d survived a plane crash and six nights on
an island so far. As a teenager, she’d survived her first heartbreak, and she could endure another.
Their night together could be blamed on a combination of desperation, lousy judgment, and booze. It didn’t have to mean she
was still in love with Wyatt after all these years. She needed to get a grip, tuck away her rebellious feelings of love, and
hold it together until they made it home. Then she could go back to normal—back to never talking to Wyatt again. That idea
nearly brought a fresh round of tears to the surface, but Piper commanded them away with a choked breath.
As she hiked back to the beach, a drizzle bloomed into thick drops, gusty winds tilting the rain sideways. Spiky torrents
hit her from all sides. Great. As if she needed a physical reminder of the emotional pain she was walking back to.
Despite the rainstorm, Wyatt remained on the beach where she’d left him, still staring at the sea. She handed him a papaya
and his knife.
“Eat this. I don’t care if you don’t want to.” She may be pissed at him, her ego wounded, but that didn’t mean she wanted him starving to death.
He flicked his gaze up at her, his eyes stormy. Raindrops beaded on his curls, dripping off his face. Dried blood caked the
side of his calf, his hurt leg swollen to twice the size of the other. Mechanically, he cut the fruit open, took a bite, and
gulped it down. If he noticed her blotchy face and swollen eyes, he said nothing. Had he been crying, too? Or was that the
rain streaking his face, making his nose red?
Piper pushed wet hair out of her face. “Are you going to stay out here in the rain?”
The furrow between Wyatt’s eyes deepened. “I need to keep watch.”
With the wind and rain continuing to whip and wail, a search and rescue mission was likely on hold, but Piper didn’t bother
pointing that out. Wyatt could make his own decisions. A part of her wanted to pull him in from the storm and kiss him back
to her, but she’d promised herself she’d stay strong, resolute, in her new boundaries. Boundaries that Wyatt had agreed with
wholeheartedly.
It wasn’t lost on her he’d rather sit in a storm alone than with her in their dry shelter.
There was nothing she could do except wait.
Piper tried napping, but her mind was wound too tight to relax. She passed the time by counting the veins in the leaves thatched
above her, listening to the rain running off the trees, and trying to reach someone, anyone, on the radio. When the storm
subsided a few hours later, the sky remained overcast, clouds hanging low and gray, hiding the sun and matching her solemn
mood.
Wyatt’s lone figure by the water was the first thing Piper saw when she sat up. He hadn’t moved, but high tide had lured the water closer. A glittering row of crushed seashells drew a perfect outline of where the ocean had risen. Palm leaves and seaweed littered the beach. The waves loomed choppy and rough, but the air was still. The sound of an airplane approaching would be clear as a bell.
Instead, only silence filled the beach.
Piper clicked the radio on, but no matter how many times she repeated their call for help, no one responded. Her voice came
out hoarse from her earlier meltdown; deep despair hardened her stomach. The weight of their situation, stark and insurmountable,
sat on her chest like an elephant, making it hard to breathe deeply.
As much as she hated how vulnerable and lost she felt with Wyatt, it was worse to be alone in these dark feelings. Padding
across the damp beach, she sat down beside him without a word. Together they watched the waves roll in, and the clouds sail
by.
Though he sat close enough to touch, she missed him. Missed their once easy closeness that for a brief second had been reignited.
Missed his laughter, his kiss. Under different circumstances, would they be skinny-dipping in the water or lying naked in
their shelter right now? The appealing daydream hurt her heart. Piper’s fingers yearned to smooth over his shoulders, her
mouth to feel his lips opening over hers.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “That plane isn’t coming back.”
Piper suppressed her echoing hopelessness. “You don’t know that.” Her voice sounded thin. Unnaturally high. “They could still
come.”
“I’m so sorry, Piper. It’s my fault. I should’ve known they wouldn’t be able to see us over the rocks and trees. The second
we heard something, I should have climbed the cliff and fired that flare.” He bowed his head. “Instead, I waited like an idiot.
And now we’re stuck here.”
A lightbulb went off in her head. Piper should have seen this coming—Wyatt shouldering an undue amount of blame and guilt. He’d always treated the problems of the world around him like they were his alone to fix. The knots in her stomach loosened a fraction of an inch as she considered the possibility that Wyatt wasn’t angry at her, but upset with himself instead. That his earlier reaction could have been more about self-loathing than anything to do with Piper.
“You know that’s not true. Without you, I wouldn’t know how to shoot a flare gun, and I’m not climbing up the cliffside. Are
you blaming me for those things?” She studied his drawn face, wary of a repeat of this morning’s harsh conversation.
Wyatt’s eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks sunken like a collapsing jack-o’-lantern. “It’s my fault we crashed here. I wanted
to make it right. To save us.”
“This isn’t all on you, you know. We’re in this together.”
Wyatt pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and turned away from her, effectively ending the conversation.
Annoyance flared in Piper’s veins like flames. She’d thought they were becoming a team, partners in this disaster they’d found
themselves in, but Wyatt had withdrawn into his well-worn loner shell, shutting her out, acting like he was solely responsible
for everything that happened on this island. He’d shut her out of his heart, too. Not that she needed another reminder.
Piper hurled a nearby rock into the ocean and stood to leave, unable to bear the torture of his silent treatment, when Wyatt
spoke.
“My mom loved the ocean.”
She froze. His mom had always been an off-limits subject. Before she could think of something to say, Wyatt continued.
“The closest beach was about four hours away, and we couldn’t afford a hotel. But sometimes, she’d wake me before the sun came up and we’d drive out and spend the day by the water, eating peanut butter sandwiches she’d packed and drinking soda from a vending machine. Then we’d drive back at night, sunburned and sandy.”
Piper settled herself back on the sand slowly so as not to distract him.
“She was different by the water. Freer somehow. Like she could let go of the demons that held her and enjoy life. Enjoy being
my mom.” Wyatt stared out over the water like he was watching a movie of memories. “It’s the only time she ever talked about
my dad, too. Told me how he taught her to swim in the ocean and gave me my first taste of ice cream when he thought she wasn’t
looking.”
Piper smiled at the image. “Your dad sounds awesome. And I’m glad you have those memories of your mom.”
Wyatt rested his chin on the tops of his knees. “Me, too. I’ve been thinking about her a lot since we’ve been here. Both of
them, actually. Wondering if they’re here with me somehow. If that’s how we’ve survived everything so far.”
Unexpected tears wet Piper’s eyes, and she rubbed them away before Wyatt could notice. “I’m sorry about your mom, Wyatt. Molly
told me when she passed last year, and I sent flowers and a card. I’m not sure if you got them, though. I know you guys had
a difficult relationship, but I also know how much you loved her.” Piper couldn’t imagine losing one of her parents, let alone
both of them.
“I wish I’d been able to help more. My deployment was hard on her, and she never got back on her feet after her stint in jail.”
Grief and guilt stained Wyatt’s voice. His shoulders slumped, his gaze still searching for something beyond the horizon.
“You weren’t responsible for her actions. You were the kid, and she was the mom.” If only there were something more profound she could say to take away his pain.
“It doesn’t matter. She needed me. She had a tough life, getting pregnant with me young, then losing the love of her life
and raising me on her own. I don’t think she ever recovered from my dad’s death.” Wyatt poured a handful of sand out like
an hourglass through his fist. “I’d like to think I was a bright spot in her life, at least I tried to be. Maybe if I’d stayed
in Mason or come home more, things would have turned out differently. Maybe she’d still be here.”
“You can’t think like that. She wanted you to go off and live your life. She was so proud of you. I remember that letter she
wrote you when you graduated high school, saying that a picture of you in your cap and gown was her most cherished possession.”
“That’s a pretty sad prized possession.”
“No, it’s not,” Piper insisted. “You made her happy by doing more than she could with her life.”
Wyatt continued staring out over the waves. When he spoke again, his voice was as coarse as sand. “I got your flowers and
your card. You were the only one who knew even half of what was happening with my mom, so it meant a lot.” He took a deep
breath and finally looked at her. Piper swam in the pools of his eyes. “I know I didn’t deserve your sympathy, but I really
appreciated it. More than you know.”
He placed his hand over hers in the sand, covering it completely, and squeezed. Piper’s throat felt too full of rocks to speak.
She twisted her hand so their palms met and laced her fingers in his, marveling at how, after everything that had happened,
it was still a perfect fit.
A key sliding into a lock with a staccato click.
They sat in silence, hands locked together as if that were the only thing keeping them from falling apart as the sky darkened.
Maybe it was.
As the shadows grew longer, the sun closing out the day, Wyatt turned to her, his mouth curling to one side. “We should probably check the radio again.”
Piper nodded and pulled her hand from his. Pushing himself upright, Wyatt stretched his arms above his head and rolled out
his neck with a series of cracks. He walked only a few feet before grabbing a palm tree trunk for support, grunting in pain.
Piper jumped up and stood nearby. “Is it your leg?”
He shook his head. “My foot must have fallen asleep from sitting for so long. Or maybe it’s a cramp.” He staggered forward
unsteadily, heavily favoring his unscathed leg.
Reflexively, Piper’s hand shot out to support him, but she stopped herself and hovered alongside him as he hobbled toward
their shelter. Yesterday she wouldn’t have thought twice about ducking under his shoulder and sliding her arm around his waist,
but that was before they’d decided everything between them was a mistake best forgotten.
“Can I help?” she asked when he paused and took another pained breath.
A sheen of sweat glistened on his upper lip, and his hands trembled. “No, no, I’m fine.”
“No offense, Wyatt, but if this is you fine, I’d hate seeing you wounded.”
He grunted and continued limping forward. Once he made it to their shelter, he gingerly took a seat and leaned back against
the closest tree, mopping his brow with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Do we have any more Advil?”
“I thought you said your leg was fine?” Piper lifted her brows in challenge.
His nostrils flared. “Okay, okay, maybe it’s bothering me. Is that what you want to hear?”
She checked their first aid kit’s remains, returning with the rest of their bandages. “We’re out of Advil, but let me rebandage your cut at least.”
He shook his head with a sharp “no,” then held out his hand for the supplies. “I can do it. I don’t want to ruin your appetite.”
“Wyatt, it’s not like I’m headed to an all-you-can-eat buffet.” His macho attitude was exasperating.
“I know, but I can handle it. Speaking of food, though, do we have any more?”
It was a blatant attempt to keep her away from his injury, but he’d barely eaten in the last twenty-four hours, so she got
up and dug a water bottle and a handful of berries out of her bag. Browbeating him into accepting help would be as useless
as trying to catch water with a tennis racket.
When she returned, Wyatt had already changed his bandage and pulled on a pair of loose gray sweatpants. He could physically
hide his injury, but it didn’t dissuade Piper.
“I know you don’t want to listen to me, but as the medical professional of this beach, I want you to elevate your leg for
a few hours.”
To her surprise, tears shimmered in Wyatt’s eyes. “I know, but I feel fucking useless. I should keep watch. Do something!
How does my lying around help our situation?”
About as much as him moping on the beach, Piper wanted to point out, but she bit her tongue. “I’ll take over rescue watch.
I bet you’ll feel better after a few hours of rest.”
His brow unfurled slightly. “Maybe. And maybe I can catch some crabs or something later.”
“I think you should focus more on resting and less on hunting our dinner. Come on, lie back, and let’s get your leg up.” She
dragged her suitcase under the canopy and helped Wyatt maneuver his bad leg onto it.
Satisfied that he would rest, at least for the time being, she ducked back out of their shelter. “I’ll be out here keeping watch if you need me.”
He propped himself up onto his elbows. “Hey, Piper.”
She turned back.
“I’m sorry I was such a jerk this morning about the plane. I promise you, we will get off this island.”
She nodded her acknowledgment, appreciating the sentiment but acutely aware he wasn’t apologizing for agreeing they should
never have slept together.