Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
The wind filled the sails like it was rooting for them.
Clean, steady, perfect—a captain’s dream. The catamaran glided smoothly across the open blue, the hull slicing through gentle swells, sun glinting off the water like scattered coins, the engine humming as well so they’d keep a faster pace. It should’ve felt like victory. Like peace.
Instead, Russ stood at the helm with a hollow space growing slowly behind his ribs.
They were heading back. Home, for most of them.
An ending for him. And for Tessa.
He tightened his grip on the wheel as another gust filled the sails, carrying them forward effortlessly. The boat practically hummed under his hands. Everything was working in their favor—the wind, the tide, the forecast, even the darned espresso machine this morning. Which he’d needed. Twice.
He should’ve been in a great mood .
But the quiet ache had already started to settle in. Not loud. Not yet. Just there, like a shadow he couldn’t shake. The loneliness of it. The inevitability.
Tessa stood beside him.
She’d been there since they’d pulled anchor, a soft presence at his side while the others dozed off below or stretched out in the sun with books and sunglasses and travel journals for the four-hour trip.
Tessa had taken one of the anti-nausea pills again before they set off on the crossing, back to the island of Raiatea, where the group would take a forty-five-minute flight back to the international airport on Tahiti, then catch their flight back to Los Angeles International for their layover.
“I’m not falling asleep,” she’d told him, sipping from her own cup of espresso. “This is my last day on the boat with you. I’m staying awake.”
And she had. She’d stood there through every tack and course correction, helped him and Malik tighten a line when he needed another pair of hands, even passed him the binoculars once when a distant sail caught his eye.
He’d shown her a few things—how to read the wind on the water, how to adjust the trim, what to listen for in the sails.
She’d asked questions and actually wanted to learn, even if the numbers on the navigation screen still made her cross-eyed.
They’d laughed and shared more precious moments together.
With everyone asleep or occupied for an hour or two—even Jules had said she’d nap for a bit—he’d held Tessa’s hand when he could, too. No one was around to see, after all, except Malik, now and then, and they’d put a little distance between them whenever he came around.
They’d also talked. About where his family lived in Fort Lauderdale. About his siblings. About her sister and her parents. About her work. About all the things they’d forgotten to talk about before, now that time was running out.
He hadn’t expected how much it would mean to him.
Her being there, when she could’ve gone below to rest like the others had.
But she was at his side, ponytail blowing, sunglasses perched on her nose, one hand resting lightly on the railing as the waves rose tall in front of them and the wind blew the hair from their faces.
And every now and then, she’d turned to him and smiled.
Like nothing was ending.
Like they still had time. Like they could do this forever.
He wished they could. With all his heart.
The horizon stretched out ahead of them—open and glittering and blindingly blue.
But land was coming. And so was goodbye.
The dock at Raiatea came into view slowly, the wooden planks warming under the late afternoon sun. The catamaran nudged into its slip like it knew the routine, like it, too, had done this before—brought people together and then delivered them back gently to real life.
Tessa stood with the others on deck as they waited for the gangplank to be lowered. Her sandals were in her hand. And when her bare feet touched the dock, she slipped them on with ease.
A soft smile touched her lips. The same girl who’d once stumbled barefoot across the deck, who’d clumsily scraped a leg on a mound of coral and forced everyone out of the water, who’d requested a land-only vacation, who’d worried what she’d do without a plus-one on this trip, now walked steadily toward the rental van, her legs sure, her heart still full—despite everything.
She’d crossed so many bucket-list items from her list this week, it wasn’t even funny. She’d have to remember that. She’d done what she’d come to do. Expanded her horizons. Tried new things. Forgotten about Ethan and enjoyed the trip without a plus-one, at least on paper. A total reset.
The week had been a success in the grander scheme of things. Her birthday had been amazing, too. One for the books. She’d look back fondly on this trip, even if those memories were also bittersweet.
The girls each gave Jules a warm hug.
“Safe flight, alright? You all get some sleep on that plane,” Jules said sweetly, still concerned for their well-being as she pulled her suitcase in behind. Jules had treated them all like old friends all week. Tessa would never forget her.
Jules shook hand with Drew and Nate and Kyle next, then hugged Russ and Malik. “See you next time, boys. Stay out of trouble.”
Tessa sniffled.
“We will,” said Malik with a mischievous grin. “Alright, people,” he went on as he unlocked the van’s back doors. “Load ’em up.”
There was cheer in his voice, but she heard it—that edge of sadness. They’d become a little family, hadn’t they? In just eight days. It was long enough that they’d all miss each other.
They loaded bags and carry-ons with practiced rhythm, then started climbing into the van that had been left for them by the charter company—just as Russ had explained. One last part of the routine.
Tessa climbed in at the back and slid over to the window seat.
Russ climbed in beside her as the other couples found room, not saying a word, just finding her hand with his under the cover of the seatbacks. His palm was warm. Steady. Familiar.
She glanced at him, trying to offer a smile, but couldn’t.
He squeezed her hand and inched closer. They’d already exchanged numbers, talked about how she’d return to work on Tuesday, and he’d be going to see his boss.
They’d talked about her layover, discussed the weather.
There wasn’t much left to say for two people who’d never see each other again.
She bit her lip, gazing out the window, blinking hard and willing herself not to cry. Her fingers curled around his, trying to memorize the shape of his hand.
They didn’t speak during the drive .
She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said—that once she boarded that plane, that would be it. The. End.
For their own good.
And maybe he was right. Maybe the distance, the realities, the rules they’d already broken were too much.
But she still hated it.
And she still loved him.
The ride passed in snapshots—palm trees whirring by, the quiet murmurs of the others, the way her heart thudded harder the moment the airport sign came into view.
She rested her head against his shoulder.
No one was watching anyway, and what did it matter now? He leaned in, resting his head on hers.
When the van finally stopped under the shaded drop-off zone, everyone began climbing out, stretching, reaching for bags.
Tessa moved slowly. Because once her feet hit the curb… she knew it would start to feel real.
He pulled her gently to the side, just outside the hum of the group as each piece of luggage was unloaded from the back of the van and found its rightful owner.
“Tessa.”
She turned to face him, her eyes already glassy, her shoulders tanned now, drawn tight like she was trying not to fold in on herself .
He took one of her hands, then the other, laced their fingers together. Gazed into her eyes.
“I want you to know something,” he said. “No matter what happens next, I’ll always care about you. I mean that.”
Her gaze on him stayed steady.
“You’ve changed me,” he went on. “I don’t know what happens next, but I need you to know that you… you mean something to me. Something important.” He paused. “And you always will.”
A few feet away, the group had finished gathering their things and were chatting about the terminal or the tickets or the nearest coffee stand, but someone—probably Marin—must have turned and seen them. The quiet conversation shifted, threads of it suddenly woven with curiosity.
“Wait, are they?—?”
“The captain… and Tess’?”
“What’s going on with them?”
But Russ didn’t turn. He kept his gaze on Tessa. “I’ll never forget you,” he said softly, his heart swelling. This was it. This was the end.
Tessa gave a tearful smile. “I’ll never forget you, either. Or this trip. You mean the world to me, Russ.”
His heart filled with sadness and a brutal sense of longing took over.
Why did she have to go six thousand miles away?
Why couldn’t she stay here with him? Was he doing the right thing, making a clean break like this?
It was all irrational—deep down inside, he knew it—but the emotions overloaded him, just the same.
He brushed aside the doubt and raised his hands to her face. No, she couldn’t just stay here. She had a home and a life and a job and friends who loved her—there. It had to be this way.
“If you ever change your mind…” she said, wrapping her hands around his waist. “You know where to find me.”
His throat tightened.
He looked at her for one long, unbroken moment, then leaned in and kissed her—right there in front of everyone.
Not a polite goodbye kiss, and not a secret kiss. A real kiss. Passionate. Honest. The kind he’d remember forever. Long and drawn out. Dramatic and heartfelt. The kind you’d regret forever if you didn’t.
Somewhere behind them, a cheer went up. He heard it, but didn’t stop kissing her.
First a hoot. Laughter. Gasps.
“Oh, my gosh—” he heard Jenna’s voice.
“Go, Captain!” he heard Drew.
But he didn’t care anymore.
He wasn’t her captain anymore. And he’d already told the truth. He wasn’t letting that stop him from this one last moment together.