Chapter Twenty-Three
With us, it’ll always be good.
The only sounds in the car are the rush of wind through the windows and the dull hum of the tires against the pavement as we coast along the highways of Hawai?i.
My entire face feels like it’s on fire, and I’m flushed from my head down to the tips of my toes, thinking about the night that Tyler first said those words to me.
That perfect, awkward, amazing night. The one that led to several similar nights, the memories of which make my blood tingle and start up the surprising hammer of my pulse in the base of my throat.
I’ll remember every second of that first night for the rest of my life. The gentle whisper of his voice soothing my nerves. With us, Ol, it’ll always be good.
Always.
Always.
Always.
What happens when always eventually ends?
Right now, I’m feeling not only flustered, but there’s also a distinct, cozy warmth nestled at the center of my chest. It’s started raining outside, a gentle drizzle pattering against the windshield.
We didn’t think about putting the top back on the Jeep before we left Leonard’s, so droplets land on our cheeks and arms and hair as Tyler drives, but with the accompanying warm breeze, it’s kind of nice.
Tyler looks over at me curiously as we head to the next stop on our adventure—he revealed we’re heading down to the island’s famous Diamond Head dormant volcano for a small hike before going back for dinner.
As we sail down the road, my brain traitorously focuses on a raindrop on the apple of his cheek, my fingers practically twitching in my lap, itching to brush it away.
But I hold firm. “What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning slightly.
“Nothing,” I answer, a little too quickly. I force myself to clear my throat and get some more words out, watching the gray clouds swim by overhead. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
I’m a terrible liar and I’m certain Tyler sees right through it when I skirt my gaze away from him and say, “About how crazy it is that of all people I could have been stuck next to on that flight, it was you.”
He hums in thought for a second while we drive.
“You know,” he says after a beat. “Part of me wants to agree about how nuts that is. But I can’t shake the feeling…
” He shrugs and keeps his eyes on the road, the windshield wipers gently swooshing in between our breaths.
“I don’t know. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s nobody else but you that could’ve been assigned the spot next to me on that flight. ”
“And Ellen,” I point out, thinking back to her disgruntled sniffs and rustling magazines. “That woman was something else.”
He chuckles. “How could I forget? She’s the final piece of our trio. Maybe we should start a band. What would we call it?”
I pretend to think it over for a second. “How about Please Fasten Your Seat Belts?”
Tyler’s face brightens and he instantly launches into a debate about the most ridiculous names we could come up with for our fake band, a few other rejects including The Flight Attendants, Turbulent Tunes, and Baggage Claim.
The whole time he talks, I sit there stewing in my own thoughts, and one rings louder than the others.
Despite the shitty start to my trip, I’m enjoying my time with Tyler more than I expected to. And while part of me relishes the glimmer of excitement that brings to my chest, the smarter part of me knows I need to snuff out that flame, immediately.
I loved Tyler. A part of me will always love Tyler. But it has to remain a small part. Because the things that broke us apart once will break us apart again, and that’s not something I can do to either of us a second time.
It’s already over. We had our chance.
I’m not going back.
Instead, I switch to talking about the fact that my phone is racking up an increasing number of missed calls and texts from Jack, all of which I’m ignoring, especially now that I don’t want to take my phone out of my pocket in the rain.
Tyler looks conflicted about it when I explain the morning’s messages.
“I don’t know, Olive. I get not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but as far as the guy knows, you left his dorm room and vanished.
Even an ass like Mr. Two First Names deserves to hear that you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.
” He flashes me a wink as we drive through the entrance of the park, the rain starting to clear up and thick beams of sunshine beginning to poke through the scattering clouds.
“Or dead in a volcanic crater, more likely.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I agree. “Much more fitting for me to be dead in a volcanic crater here on the island, you know? Fits the tropical Hawaiian theme.”
But he isn’t taking my nonanswer for an answer, pointing an accusing finger at me as he puts the car in park.
“I get not wanting to talk to him, I really do. I wouldn’t want to talk to him, either.
And, if I’m being entirely honest, I’m very much loving that you’re giving Jack Cameron the silent treatment.
But, you’ve made him sweat a little bit. At least let him know you’re okay.”
“And then I can tell him to piss off and continue ignoring him?”
Tyler nods triumphantly. “And then you can tell him to piss off and continue ignoring him. In fact, please do. As your jilted ex-boyfriend, I highly recommend a little retribution.”
My brain snags on the jilted ex-boyfriend part of his sentence, causing my heartbeat to stutter.
I never really thought about it that way before—and it’s a little funny to imagine Tyler as a jilted bride standing at the altar—but he’s not entirely wrong.
One day we were together with everything ahead of us, and then we just…
weren’t. It’s too much to think about right now, the guilt already starting to gnaw at the corners of my mind, so I force myself to focus on the stunning view of the winding mountains and the task ahead instead.
Right as we hop out of the car to start the climb to the lookout point, I slip my phone out of my pocket—now that the rain has pretty much stopped—and fire off one perfunctory text to Jack to get him off my back before putting it away and enjoying my last day on the island with Tyler: Nothing’s wrong and I’m safe.
But that doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.
Heading home tomorrow morning—don’t worry about where I am for now.
To his credit, Tyler doesn’t ask me what the message says, although the expression on his face makes it clear that he’s burning with curiosity.
Still, he watches me tighten the laces of my sneakers and slip one of Lucas’s old baseball caps on my head as we head off down the trail toward the island’s most famous volcano.
The sun is melting in the sky, a breathtaking blend of pink and orange hues, and the clouds are rolling over the hills above our heads in delicate wisps that I almost feel I can touch.
“Olive,” Tyler whispers in awe a few minutes after we begin, stopping me in my tracks and pointing out toward the ocean. “Look.” And when I follow his line of sight, I can’t help but gasp.
A gorgeous rainbow streaks across the whole sky, its colors vibrant and breathtaking. It seems to stretch from the heavens all the way down to the ocean, giving it a gentle kiss where it meets the horizon, the waves out in the distance lapping up to greet it.
I’ve seen rainbows before, but for some reason I can’t tear my gaze away from this one, utterly transfixed. As if the rainbow could speak to me, it looks like its colors are wiggling a little bit. Whispering, Don’t worry, Olive. It’s all going to be okay.
“Now you can see why Hawai?i is called the rainbow capital of the world,” Tyler says quietly, as if it can hear us and we don’t want to scare it away. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that strong.”
“I can definitely agree with that,” I murmur, sending back my own mental wish to the rainbow. I hope you’re right. Please let everything turn out okay.
We continue to hike in silence for a good stretch, nothing but the sound of the chirping birds and the wind and the ocean crashing nearby to distract us.
It’s the perfect time to stew in my thoughts about everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours—and a quick glance at my watch reminds me that it’s been over a full day since I walked in on Jack and Lilly.
Once we’ve gotten about half of the journey under our belt, Tyler finally speaks, slightly out of breath.
He’s hiking ahead of me, so all I get is a view of his backpack bobbing up and down while he talks.
“He didn’t deserve you, you know. And before you claim I’m just saying that because I used to date you, I’ll have you know that it was Delia who started calling him Jackass first. I was merely an accomplice. ”
Sounds totally like her, to be honest. “Okay,” I wheeze in response, chugging a cold sip from the water bottle he picked up for me before we got here. “We are not having this conversation. Especially when we’re on a journey where every gasp of air feels like a precious resource.”
This gets a snicker out of him, but he takes a deep breath and continues speaking.
“First of all, this is not supposed to be a strenuous hike, so I think we’re just awfully out of shape.
Second, I’m not trying to get into a whole big debate about it, Olive.
I’m just saying—he didn’t deserve you. Not when you flew all this way to surprise him, and then that’s how he treated you.
” He coughs, whether because he feels awkward or from a lack of oxygen, I can’t quite tell.
“I know it probably hurts now, and it’s definitely weird hearing it from me of all people, but the pain will pass, and you’ll be better off for it. ”