Chapter 24
I’m woken the next morning from a fitful sleep by a knock on my door.
I almost don’t answer it. Even though I just slept in a real bed for only the second time in the last month, I’m more tired than I ever have been in my entire life.
I spent the rest of last night in self-imposed isolation, only leaving my room to sneak out for just long enough to fill up a plate with food and bring it back.
I should have been celebrating with my fellow contestants, but I couldn’t stand the thought of pretending like everything was okay when all I wanted to do was break down and cry.
More importantly, I couldn’t take the chance that Cole would be out there, too.
If I saw him, that might have pushed me over the edge.
Now, as I struggle to get out of bed and put on clothes, I wonder if it’s him at my door, here to apologize to me and try to make up with me.
I’m honestly not sure what I’ll do if that’s the case.
I want to slam the door in his face, to hurt him like he hurt me last night, and I also want to run into his arms and never let him go.
But when I answer the door, it’s only Neema waiting for me, and part of me can’t help but be disappointed.
She looks as dapper as ever, her attention absorbed by a clipboard that holds a few papers.
“Ryan, good to see you. I just wanted to—” She glances up, her voice cutting off abruptly as she frowns. “Are you okay? You look like shit.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, ignoring the pang of pain that flares in my chest. What would you even say if it were him? “What do you need?”
Her frown deepens. It’s obvious she doesn’t really believe me, but thankfully, she doesn’t press the issue any further. “I need to go over a couple of things with you before you go home. Do you mind if I come in?”
I wave her into the room, and she steps in, taking off her sunglasses.
“For starters, congratulations on making it to the final two,” she says, her tone as professional as ever, like we’re in a conference room in some nondescript office building rather than on a tropical island.
“Like Alex said last night, you’ll find out whether you won at the live finale in a few months.
We’ll email you an invitation a couple of weeks before.
It’ll let you know where and when to show up, and how many guests you can bring.
I think last year we allowed everyone to bring four family members, but if you really need more than that, contact me, and I’ll see if we can get you some extra tickets. ”
Arielle is probably the only person I’ll want to be there, so that shouldn’t be a problem. “Sounds good,” I reply. “Anything else?”
She nods. “I know you’re a lawyer, so you probably read the contestant agreement we had you sign before the game in full, but I’m still going to remind you of a few provisions just to be certain.
” She holds up a finger. “First, don’t spill any details of the game, especially your placement.
We don’t want any spoilers floating around the internet.
That includes not showing off your insignias or any other souvenirs you’re bringing back.
” Another finger. “Second, while you are free to exchange contact information with your fellow contestants, we ask that you try to avoid being seen together in public. Definitely don’t post on social media with any of the other contestants until after the finale.
” A third finger joins the other two. “Finally, don’t speak to any reporters or media about your time on the island unless you get explicit approval from me or another producer. Got it?”
Those rules sound a bit excessive, but I’m sure they’d rather be safe than sorry. “I understand.”
“I figured you would. Of course, those rules only last until the finale airs. After that, feel free to publicly hang out with the others or do interviews to your heart’s content.”
“Got it. Thanks, Neema.”
“No problem.” She turns to go, but right before she reaches the door, she faces me once more, and when she speaks again, there’s a note of warmth in her voice.
“And, Ryan … look, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but I think I know what’s bothering you.
I’ve watched you play for the last thirty-three days, and I’ve seen how resilient you are.
I know it hurts now, but you’ll get over it soon enough. ”
I spend a good portion of the day pondering what Neema said.
Does she really know what happened between Cole and me?
I know the producers watch the film pretty much in real time, but I feel like we were pretty circumspect, and our big conversation on the beach the night after Marina was voted out wasn’t filmed at all.
At least, I think it wasn’t. Cole could have mentioned something about it in one of his confessionals, but that seems unlikely when he was so concerned about coming out on TV.
Maybe she heard us arguing yesterday, remembered his question to me at tribal, and put two and two together. I wouldn’t put it past her.
I haven’t solved the mystery by the time a bus comes by to take us to the airport a few hours later, and with some effort, I push it to the back of my mind as I load up my luggage.
It’s not like it really matters anymore.
But it niggles at the back of my mind, like a rock in my shoe that I can’t quite get out.
For better or worse, the ride to the airport is long, and eventually I let my mind turn to other topics.
I’m excited to see Arielle after so long apart, and I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed and order from my favorite restaurants whenever I feel hungry.
But at the same time, as we get further from our own little portion of the island, an ache builds within my chest, as though I’m leaving a little piece of myself behind.
That ache only intensifies as we arrive at the airport, but thankfully, I’m able to put it out of my mind in the commotion of unpacking and checking in for our flight.
The airport is fairly small—I can’t imagine they get too many visitors, given how remote it is—and some of the production crew will be flying back with us, making our group even larger.
The good news is that it’s easier to avoid Cole; every time I think I see him, I look away as quickly as I can.
I really don’t think this is a good place to have a mental breakdown.
Thankfully, we only have to wait a little while before we all get on a flight to Honolulu, and my seat on the plane is nowhere near Cole’s.
I spend most of the ride with my earbuds in, listening to music while I stare out the window, trying to think about anything other than him.
I’m mostly successful, and when we touch down five-and-a-half hours later, I hurry off the plane and to my next gate, so I don’t even have to look at him.
As my final plane touches down in northern Virginia nearly twelve hours later, the noonday sun high in the sky, all I can think about is how it feels like a lifetime since I took off in the opposite direction, bright-eyed and excited, with no idea of what was coming my way.
If only I could go back and tell myself not to fuck it up.
Once I’ve collected my bags and made my way through customs, all that’s left to do is take the Metro to my one-bedroom apartment in Logan Circle, and I finally stumble through the door after more than twenty-four hours of traveling, jet-lagged to hell, ready to collapse into my bed and sleep forever.
But to my surprise, Arielle is waiting for me in my living room, curled up under a blanket on my couch, with a steaming cup of something in her hands.
Her dark brown hair reaches down to her shoulder; it was quite a bit longer before the chemo, but even in the last month, it’s grown out a bit.
She’s skinny, but nowhere near as gaunt as she was right after the treatment ended, and her eyes sparkle as she looks at me.
In short, even if she’s not fully back to the way she was before the cancer, she’s clearly on the upswing, and some—but not all—of the guilt I felt at leaving her evaporates.
As soon as I walk into the room, she sets down her mug and gets up to greet me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. “Hey there, little bro,” she says, gently rubbing my back. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey to you too,” I reply, giving her a tired grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work? I didn’t expect to see you until tonight or tomorrow.”
“I told the principal you were coming back today, and she basically insisted that I take the day off. Didn’t even have to use one of my vacation days.
” She squeezes me once more, then moves back to the couch, patting the seat next to her.
“Anyway, I’m here now, so come sit and tell me all about your exciting journey! I want to hear everything.”
I open my mouth, ready to regale her with tales of my time on the island.
But before any words come out, it finally sinks in that I’m home, that it’s done, and suddenly all the emotions that I’ve been barely holding back for the last two days, all the memories of Cole, both happy and sad, slam into me.
Why? Why did I have to fall for him when I knew it would end badly?
Before I know it, I’m sobbing, great heaving wracks that seem to start deep in the pit of my stomach and work their way up to my eyes and nose and mouth.
In a flash, Arielle is wrapping me in her arms again, guiding me to the couch while I continue to cry. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice full of love. “It’s all right. I’m here for you.”