Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
EVIE
W hy does it feel like one of us is dying?
Cal’s hands are tight on the boat’s wheel. He hasn’t said a word since dinner last night. It’s like I can see his heart breaking all over his face. I hate it.
I hate this.
I had to force myself to reread every letter from T this morning. To make myself get out of bed. To make myself get dressed and get off the island. Fire Island will always be the place where I found myself. Where my heart bloomed. Where my soul cracked wide open.
I loved every moment of it.
And I will do everything in my power to make certain Cal stays undisturbed, safe on his island. The way he wants.
So, why does the thought of him there alone—more accurately, without me—feel so damn wrong?
I once heard a saying. It went something along the lines of love will always take sacrifice.
And this feels like the ultimate sacrifice.
Leave the man.
Leave him safe.
Break my heart to save his.
A fair and noble price to pay in light of all that’s been lost to my cowardice in this situation thus far. In theory, I’m a brave woman scorned. I hope when the reality manifests I still hold that bravery.
God, I hope so.
I swallow around the stone wedged in my airway.
The marina comes into view, and my heart starts to race.
This is it. The last minutes of being part of Callum McCreary’s life. My grip on my bag tightens. Air, short and swift, burns my lungs.
I knew it would.
It’s better than I deserve.
He throttles down and we glide into Firefly’s slip. I move to the side, rolling the bumpers over the side as the boat closes in on the gangway. Look at me, doing sailorly things like I belong on this old tub. My first mate status, coming a little too late.
When the engine splutters out, I can’t look at Cal.
Emmett jogs toward us, and I shake my head and suck in a breath.
“Hell, Miss Evie, how are nine months up already?” He holds a hand out to me, and I disembark.
“Thanks.” I land safely on the jetty. “Time flies when you’re...”
I can’t even finish the sentence.
“You taking Evie to the bus stop, Cal?”
Cal is busy tying off as he says, “Can’t. Gotta get Iris and head over to Rockland for the restoration meeting. You take her, Em.”
“I’m right here,” I breathe.
But he doesn’t look up, doesn’t look at me.
No, that’s fine.
Totally fine. I get it.
He’s making space.
Making it easier. Emmett grabs my bag as Cal hands it up.
For a moment I can’t believe I lived through the last nine months with so few possessions.
One bag was all it took for my life to be uprooted and turned around.
It looks too insignificant. My time on Fire Island, the place that changed my life, reduced to one small piece of luggage.
I can’t decide if that’s freeing or depressing.
“Come on, Miss Eve, let’s get you back to the city.” Em’s smile is sad. I turn back, desperate to say goodbye to Cal, but he’s ducked back inside the cabin.
Like he doesn’t do goodbyes.
Figures.
May the ending emulate the beginning.
The man of few words.
The sound of tiny plastic wheels rolling over jetty boards drowns out my thoughts, and I turn to follow Emmett toward the marina parking lot.
“I bet you’re ready for civilization again, hey?”
I tug my sunglasses from my bag and slide them on. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I give him a sad smile.
He shakes his head, blowing out a breath. “You can always come home. We’ll always be here.”
“Thank you,” I say quickly, before the burn nailing the back of my eyes can choke me.
He tugs me into his side and rubs a hand over my hair, playfully mussing it. Big brother move of the century.
That’s all it takes for my heart to crack.
These people took me in so easily.
“Can I say goodbye to Iris before I go?” I ask, steeling against my misery.
“Sure,” he says, and it never fails to make my heart glow the way just the mention of Iris lights up his face.
We swing a left and head for the café. It’s busy, but Iris rounds the counter with arms open when I push through the door and the bell jingles.
Em hangs back, and I take my bag from him.
Hands in the pockets of his Coast Guard uniform, he really is handsome.
Iris oughta get onto that. I chuckle at my casual ship of these two.
Tight arms hug me, and I return the gesture.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Iris whispers. I swear her voice wobbles.
I push from her hold and nod. My bag bumps against my side, reminding me of its contents.
Pulling out her blue ombré scarf, I hand it to her, opening my palm as it hangs draped over. “Sorry it took me so long to return it. It’s just so pretty.”
She closes my hand over it. “Keep it. I have a suspicion blue is your favorite color.” She smiles at me.
Something buzzes on the counter.
Her phone.
“You really should put your phone behind the counter. Someone is going to swipe it and run one of these days,” I say.
She scrunches her face. “Nah, small town. Where would they run to?”
I laugh, and she presses her jaw to my cheek. “Thank you for keeping my brother company. He needed it more than he knows.”
I can’t breathe.
Now tears flood my eyes, welling for all to see.
She pulls me into her arms instantly. “We are dead serious when we say this place is your home, Evie. Make sure you don’t forget that.”
I shake my head furiously.
When both of us are blubbering like babies, we part.
“We better keep moving if you’re going to catch the last bus, Miss Evie.” Em shoots Iris a look, something like a tangle of sadness and gratitude.
“Of course.” I give Iris one last look.
She tilts her head as she watches us go. On the sidewalk, I blow out a low, wobbly breath.
God, this is so hard.
Ten minutes later, Em pulls into the bus terminal. He kills the engine on his truck and jumps out, grabbing my bag. “You want me to walk with you?”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything.”
He gives me one last tight hug and nods. Pulling his cap down, he climbs back up into his truck and drives away.
I wander through the terminal and find my bus number before scouting out a spot to sit. Only three minutes until call. I pull out my phone and shoot Allie a text.
Coming back today, you want to eat at Murphy’s?
My phone buzzes.
OMG! Yes! It’s been at least twenty years, girl.
I chuckle. It kind of feels like I lived a lifetime on that little island. Or maybe it’s all that happened. It’s weighted heavier because it mattered, it meant so much more than anything else I’ve ever lived through.
The speaker overhead crackles with a static-laced call for the city. I stand, pulling the handle of my rolling bag up, and head for my ticket away from Bay Shore. Away from Fire Island. Away from Callum McCreary.
Toward my life . . .
My career.
The author life I have worked years for. The only thing I have wanted since I was young.
So why do I feel so damn hollow?
Livvy glances from the last page of the manuscript up to me. I’m a bundle of nerves, knowing all too well that the work she has in her hands is not what she wanted to see. Not what I was contracted to write.
Gripping the armrests of the chair I sit restlessly on, I hold my breath, worrying my bottom lip through my teeth.
Finally placing the pages down, she takes her time straightening them. She clears her throat, leaning back in her chair before her hands land in her lap.
“Well, that ”—she nods to the manuscript—“is not what I was expecting.”
“I know. I’m sorry, it felt like the story is more impactful, more authentic being a duology. The character arcs come to completion just so easily...”
Livvy sucks in a breath.
“It’s not that I don’t love the writing or the story as is.” She leans forward now. “Evie, it’s a breach of contract. That’s what worries me most.”
“I-I...” Heat consumes my chest as I flail through hopeless thought after hopeless thought. “I can’t write what I don’t feel. Not anymore. I’m sorry.”
Livvy raises a hand. “Don’t apologize. But Evie, you have made a career in the fantasy romance genre. What story would feel right for you?”
I huff out a breathy laugh. This is the part where I stand up for what I want. For my dreams.
And I can just hear Cal calling me out on my bullshit.
Emotion flares, sending my last breath out with a choke.
Fuck it.
God, I really have spent far too long on that beautiful island. Even my inner monologue sounds like him.
“So, I want to write contemporary romance. The meet-cutes that imitate real-life happily-ever-afters that are relatable, reachable.” My chin quivers when my words contradict my own love life.
The sentiment burns, and I can’t stand to be in my own skin right now. I push from the chair and wander to the wall of shelves to the left.
Livvy sighs.
“Do you have anything to submit?”
I reach the shelves and run a hand over the leather-bound books.
“No. But I would love the chance to.” I study her shelves, not game to turn back and see the look of disapproval on her face.
The office chair creaks and soft footfalls close in.
I turn back to plead my case. The sunlight streaming through her wide windows catches a gilded frame. Livvy comes to stand beside me.
I pluck up the frame.
“Recognize the place, hey?” Livvy says with a smile.
I turn to her. A little confused, I stare at the photo in the frame. Two people stand on a beach, and is that... a lighthouse in the background? Cal’s lighthouse.
My lighthouse.
Cal and Iris stand with the biggest smiles on their faces, although Cal’s face is half hidden. But I would recognize that man anywhere.
“Livvy?”
She chuckles and takes the frame from my hand. “That was a great day.”
“I know I saw this last time I was here, but I didn’t know them then. Why do you have this?”
“Oh, those are my cousins. If it wasn’t for Iris, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to come to New York. They’re good people.” She gives me a sad smile. “You needed good people, Evie.”
Tears well in my eyes as everything comes together. She sent me to Cal, knowing what he’d been through, losing Ava. She knew Iris would take me in like a sister, and her fire for life would rub off on me.
I slap a hand to my mouth.
“Oh, hon. You were so lost. It broke my heart watching you try to piece things back together after the accident. And you shut yourself off from everyone. Cal maybe a tough nut to crack, but he is one of the few people I knew might have had a chance to pull you out of the place you’d fallen into. Did he?”
Did Cal drag me kicking and screaming from my grief?
Maybe.
Did Cal show me what life is supposed to feel like?
Raw, messy, stunning, and incredible . . .
Absolutely.
And I just... left him behind . There wasn’t one grieving person on that floating rock, as he calls it. There were two.
I gained the most from our arranged forced proximity. Guilt and sadness sink heavy in my belly. I never should have left him. I should have fought for what we had instead of making that ridiculous promise to leave.
“Evie?”
“Yes,” I breathe, “he?—”
Tears stream down my face, and Livvy is folding me into a hug a second later.
“I just want you to be okay. To look forward to the life that’s yours if you want it,” she says softly.
“Even if I’m not writing fantasy?” I choke out.
She huffs a laugh. “Even then.”
Good people.
Livvy, Em, Iris, and Cal. Good people.
Somewhere, my bag vibrates. Livvy releases me and I move to the chair, tugging the bag from the floor where it sits. I fumble for my phone and pull it out.
The screen is lit up with a text from Iris.
Odd. Even though I’ve had her cell from day one, she’s only ever texted me once—on the night of the festival, when I was lured into the library for the late-night signing.
He went out on a call out and didn’t come back. I need you here.
He?
Cal?
What on earth?
I have been watching the weather on Google Earth since last night—I guess new habits die hard—and nothing significant has rolled in near Fire Island.
I tap the phone and call her.
It rings out. I try again.
No answer.
Something’s not right.