Chapter 23
JACOB
I’m not much of a crier, but I’ve never been so close to tears as I am walking back to Billie’s house.
I’m utterly and completely devastated.
No doubt if I said that to her, she’d accuse me of being manipulative or think I was being insincere. There’s nothing I can say that will make a difference, no words that will take away the betrayal she thinks she’s feeling. The betrayal she is feeling.
It doesn’t matter what I say now. She thinks I’ve used her, and I don’t think she’s entirely wrong about that.
It wasn’t on purpose, but now I’m running through every interaction we ever had and it’s horrifying to me how dismissive I was, how selfish I’ve been.
How stupid I was not to stop this before it imploded.
She’s not there when I get back. I have no idea where she’s stormed off to. Probably back to the cafe or out to her favorite place to sit on the hill. Does she regret taking me there now? Does she hate the fact that I know her secrets?
I want to believe that she must know I would never hurt her on purpose. But that’s exactly what she thinks. She thinks I’ve done this as some way of tormenting her; the arrogant billionaire playing games with people’s lives out of boredom.
The thought of that makes me want to vomit.
When I get to her house, I head straight upstairs. I wander into her room — our room — and take a hard breath when I see the bed unmade the way I left it this morning. I suppose I should do her the decency of at least making the bed before I leave.
It’s been only a handful of days that I’ve been here, but it feels like home already. The idea that I have to leave is killing me.
But I have to go or else Billie might really kill me.
Slowly, methodically, I start packing up. My hands shake as I pick up the clothes I’ve discarded on the floor, my new shirts, my shorts entangled in her skirt, my socks strewn about like I’ve made this home.
I have more stuff now than I came with, so fitting it all into my suitcase is a struggle. But in the end, I manage to cram everything in. My heart pounds as I lift the suitcase and drag it down the stairs, trying my best not to thump the wheels too hard against the floor, and failing.
Somewhere in the time it took me to get home and start packing, Billie got back too.
When I get downstairs, she’s waiting in the kitchen for me, arms folded, lips pursed.
She’s doing her best to maintain her composure, but I can see the way she’s clenching her fists to stop her hands trembling, the way her eyes are wide and wet like she could cry any second.
“Billie, I’m sorry,” I stammer.
She smacks her lips and swallows hard. “I don’t want to hear it. I want you to get out of my house now.”
“I’m going,” I say quietly. “You don’t have to fight me. I won’t make this hard for you.”
“You’ve already made it hard,” she snaps. “But hey, good job today. You not only got to ruin my life, but everyone else’s on the island too. You must be real proud of yourself.”
“Billie,” I stammer again, but the words won’t come. There’s nothing I can say to make this better. There’s probably nothing I can say to make it worse.
The only thing I can do is put the island back the way I found it, and I won’t be able to do that unless I leave her here, like this. “I am going to fix this. I swear.”
She shakes her head, scoffing in disbelief. “Don’t make any promises to me. Don’t you dare,” she whispers, her voice thick, like she’s holding back tears. Because she is holding back tears. “I believed your promises once. I’m not going to be stupid enough to do that again.”
“I really mean it this time,” I say, though it’s not much consolation. How can it be? How can it sound like anything but a lie? “I’m coming back. I promise. I’m not leaving you behind.”
“Get out,” Billie snaps. “Just get out!” Suddenly, she’s yelling, screaming at me to leave, shooing me with her hands, her face flushed. Tears finally start to fall.
I’m not upset with her for it. How can I be? How can I blame her for a single second, when she’s right? I have ruined everything.
I’m too tired to argue anymore. I will make this right, but I can’t with words. Not here.
Instead, I pick up my bag, head for the door, and as I open it to leave, I look back at her over my shoulder, one last time.
“Goodbye. Billie,” I say softly. A confession lingers on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t make it come.
Instead, I settle for saying goodbye once more, then turn and walk away.
She slams the door behind me.
It feels like it takes an eternity to get back to the port, like I’m walking through pudding, each step weighed down with guilt and shame and devastation.
I move slowly, lingering to take in the last moments I have on this island, only pausing my reverie to text the guy who captains my yacht.
I ask him to pick me up ASAP, though secretly I’m hoping ‘ASAP’ will be a few hours.
Even a few more seconds here would be bliss.
But he texts me back straight away to say he’s on his way. At least there’s someone left in the world that I can rely on.
When I get to the port, my yacht guy is waiting for me. Relief washes over me to see someone who’s not actively furious at me. Hell, he even smiles.
The entire time I was walking here, the islanders were staring at me, judging me, crossing the street so they didn’t have to walk next to me, closing their blinds so they didn’t have to look at me.
All of them silently shaking their heads and telling me without words to leave.
You’re not welcome here. Nobody wants you.
They’re right though, aren’t they?
Now that I’ve thrown this away, I’m never going to find peace. Here I was, in the one place in all the world where I finally started to feel like I might belong. I’ve ruined it all, for what? Greed, pride?
Was it worth it?
The captain nods in deference to me as I approach. “Ready to board, sir?” he asks.
I nod. “Thanks. Let’s get going, okay?”
“As you wish.” He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he heads up to the helm. A few moments later, the boat rumbles to life. We cast off. Our journey is underway.
I wander to the stern, folding my arms on the side of the boat, staring out as Havenridge starts shrinking into the distance. Shrinking and shrinking until finally, it’s gone.