Chapter 3
Abby stood on the ferry deck watching the mainland shrink behind them. Meg leaned against the railing beside her, sunglasses pushed up on her head, already pointing out landmarks as they passed. The plan was to do a little exploring before renting kayaks. It was going to be a full day of adventure.
"That's where the dolphins like to hang out," Meg said, gesturing toward a cluster of marker poles. "If we're lucky, we might see some on the way back."
Abby nodded, only half-listening. She was thinking about Levi's suggestion to take the ferry rather than kayak over. He'd been right, of course. The water stretched out in every direction, choppy and unpredictable. She would have been exhausted before they even reached the island.
The fact that she was still listening to his advice annoyed her. She wanted to be all strong and independent, but she also wanted to live long enough to be independent.
“This is stunning,” Abby said. “Just gorgeous.”
“Hopefully, it’s not too packed today,” Meg said. “The ferry seems empty, and I don’t see too many kayaks on the water.”
Abby’s backpack was loaded with everything Meg told her to bring. She was beyond excited. If she were ten, she was pretty sure her level of excitement was equivalent to going to Disneyland for the first time.
She would have to make a new list or add to the one she had. She was becoming an adrenaline junkie, and she loved it.
They fell into companionable silence, sipping their coffee and taking in the scenery. The ferry chugged along. Other passengers dotted the deck—families with small children, a group of college-aged kids, and an elderly couple holding hands near the bow.
Cayo Costa gradually appeared on the horizon. It started as a dark green line that grew more defined as they approached. The island looked wild even from a distance. No buildings, no development. Just mangroves and beach and whatever lived in between.
If she weren’t a dignified adult, she’d jump up and down and clap her hands.
The ferry docked at a wooden pier that extended out over shallow water. Abby followed Meg down the ramp, adjusting the backpack on her shoulders.
"This way," Meg said, leading them down a sandy path that cut through the mangroves.
The trail was narrow and shaded, the air cooler under the canopy.
Abby could hear birds she couldn't identify and the occasional rustle in the underbrush, which made her think of what Meg had said about wildlife.
Stingrays were one thing. She hadn't asked about snakes. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she was certainly not interested in meeting one face-to-face.
The path opened onto a beach that took her breath away.
White sand stretched in both directions, dotted with shells and driftwood.
The water was impossibly clear, turquoise fading to deep blue further out.
And, fortunately, it seemed relatively deserted.
Maybe a dozen people were scattered across what looked like a mile of shoreline.
"Told you," Meg said with satisfaction.
It might get busier later, but people weren’t drawn to the raw beauty of the island. They wanted music, fun, and all the modern conveniences.
Abby wanted this.
They claimed a spot near a cluster of sea grape trees and spread out their towels. Abby pulled off her cover-up and immediately reapplied sunscreen. The sun was already intense despite the early hour.
"Ready to snorkel?" Meg asked, holding up her mask.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Meg showed her how to fit the mask properly and how to breathe through the snorkel without panicking. They waded into the water together, the sand soft beneath Abby's feet. The water was warmer than she'd expected. When it reached her waist, Meg put on her mask and ducked under.
Abby followed.
The underwater world opened up beneath her.
Schools of tiny silver fish darted past. Sea grass swayed in the current.
She saw something that might have been a crab scuttling along the sandy bottom.
Her breathing echoed in her ears through the snorkel.
She kept it slow and steady, trying not to think too hard about the actual mechanics.
If she started thinking about it, she’d suck in water and be a hot mess.
Meg tapped her shoulder and pointed. A stingray glided past, maybe ten feet away, and its wings undulated gracefully. Abby froze, every muscle tense, but the creature ignored them completely. It moved as if it were flying, unhurried and elegant. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
They snorkeled for almost an hour. Abby lost track of time watching fish and shells and the way sunlight filtered through the water in shifting columns. When they finally came up for air and waded back to shore, her arms were tired and her face hurt from the snorkel in her mouth.
But she was happy.
"That was incredible," she said, pulling off her mask.
"Told you," Meg said again. “I love snorkeling. There are some places around the island that I can take you to. We’re in Florida; there are places everywhere!”
“And I plan on seeing every single one of them,” Abby said. “Do you think I’m too old to learn to scuba dive? I think I’d like to go deeper and see more of the ocean.”
“You’re never too old. I know a guy who gives scuba lessons. I’ll give you his number when we get back.”
“That would be awesome. Thank you.”
They dried off and ate the sandwiches they'd packed, sitting in the shade of the sea grape trees. The beach was still mostly empty. A family with young children played in the shallows. A man walked past with a metal detector. Otherwise, they had the place to themselves.
"Can I tell you something?" Abby said.
She’d been thinking about her dilemma since yesterday.
She liked Meg and wanted a real friendship.
That required honesty. It was ridiculous, and after the situation with Levi, she knew there was a good chance Meg might have a similar reaction.
But she had to tell the truth. If these people couldn’t be her friend because she had money in the bank, they weren’t true friends.
And that’s what she craved. A bond. A real connection.
She wasn’t about to tell everyone on the island about her money, but she decided anyone who got close needed to know.
Meg looked over, chewing. "Of course."
"I won the lottery. Ten million dollars."
Meg stopped chewing. Swallowed. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"Holy cow."
"That's what I said when I found out."
Meg set down her sandwich. "Okay. Walk me through this. When? How?"
Abby told her the story. The cancer scare, the divorce, and the impulse lottery ticket she'd bought on a whim. The moment she'd checked the numbers and realized her life had changed completely. Donald's attempt to claim half. The lawyer who'd made sure he got nothing.
Meg listened without interrupting. When Abby finished, Meg was quiet for a moment.
"Good for you," she said finally.
"That's it?"
"What else is there to say? You had something terrible happen, then something amazing, and now you're here living your life. Good for you. Spend every dime."
Abby felt relief. No weird energy. Just genuine happiness on her behalf. Meg wasn’t judging. She wasn’t calculating what that kind of money might mean for their friendship.
"I told Levi," Abby said. "That's why he pulled away."
"Ah." Meg picked up her sandwich again. "Men get weird about money."
"That's what my sister said."
"Your sister's right. My ex was the same way.
He made more than I for most of our marriage, and that was fine.
But the year I started making more? Suddenly, it was a problem.
Suddenly, I was too focused on work, too ambitious, and not supportive enough.
" She shook her head. "It wasn't about the money. It was about control."
"Do you think that's what it is with Levi?"
"I don't know him well enough to say. But I know that men who are secure in themselves don't get threatened by a woman's success. Or her money. Or anything else she has going for her."
Abby looked out at the water. A pelican dove, hit the surface with a splash, and came up with something wriggling in its beak.
"I really liked him," she admitted.
"I know you did. And maybe he'll get his head out of his butt and realize what he's walking away from. But if he doesn't, that's his loss. Not yours."
"It doesn't feel that way."
"It will. Give it time."
They finished lunch and decided to hike one of the trails that cut through the island's interior. The path was well-marked but primitive, winding through palmetto scrub and live oaks draped with Spanish moss. The wildness of it settled something inside her. That didn’t mean she stopped being vigilant.
Snakes, spiders, and lizards lived on the island.
It was theirs. She was just a visitor and wasn’t interested in getting the business end of any fangs.
They emerged from the trail back at the beach, sweaty and covered in a fine layer of sand. The afternoon sun was brutal now. They waded back into the water to cool off, floating on their backs as the waves rocked them gently.
"Thank you," Abby said. "For today. For listening. For not making it weird."
"That's what friends do," Meg said simply. “Thank you for telling me your secret. It’s safe with me.”
“Is it weird that I’m keeping it a secret?”
“Not at all. I think everyone here has a little pot of gold stashed away. No one talks about what they have. Here, we’re all just people trying to enjoy the final half of our lives. And I think we all know this place isn’t cheap. You’re not here unless you have a little bit of money.”
Abby smiled. “Good point.”
Meg sighed. “I don’t know about you, but that water looks pretty uninviting. And clouds are coming in. Maybe we should take a rain check on the kayaking.”
Abby was so relieved. She started the morning wanting to kayak, but she was exhausted and honestly didn’t know if she had it in her.
“That sounds like a very good idea.” She laughed. “I’m perfectly content with a little lounging before we head back.”
By the time they boarded the ferry, Abby was sunburned despite multiple applications of sunscreen. She was exhausted and more at peace than she'd felt in days.
The ferry ride back was quieter. Most of the passengers dozed or stared out at the water. Abby watched the island recede. She couldn’t wait to return. She was anxious to do everything but realized there was such a thing as too much. She wanted to enjoy the moments, not speed through them.
They were both quiet, and Meg appeared to doze off. Abby couldn’t wait to get home, slather on more lotion over her cooked skin, and settle on the couch. She wasn’t going to move for at least three days. Adventures would have to wait. She adventured too hard.
Abby drove Meg home, both of them too tired for much conversation.
"I’ll text you. We’ll get coffee?" Meg asked as she climbed out of the Jeep.
"Absolutely."
Abby drove home on autopilot. She let herself in, dropped her bag by the door, and headed straight for the shower.
The lukewarm water felt like heaven on her sun-tired muscles. She stood under the spray until it grew cold, which felt good on her hot skin. She dried off and pulled on comfortable pajamas. She was starving but not in the mood for anything big.
Her phone was on the kitchen counter where she'd left it. She picked it up to check the time and saw a text notification.
Levi: Can we talk?
She stared at the message. Three words that could mean anything or nothing.
Her first instinct was to ignore it. Make him wait the way he'd made her wait. But that felt petty, and she was trying not to be petty.
She set the phone down without responding. She wasn't ready. Not tonight. She was too tired to do mental gymnastics.
Tomorrow, she could deal with Levi Quinn and whatever he wanted to talk about.