Chapter 23
Junie
I can tell that Steven thinks this goodbye will be forever. It sits unspoken in every moment we share together, even though we try not to let it ruin our magic.
Because every moment with him is magic.
Waking up together, catching glimpses of him around the sanctuary, watching him talk about diving and marine life to guests. Whether I’m watching him from afar or tangled in his arms, I’m drawn to the man. Nothing can keep me away.
I can come back here. I can build a life here. At the very least, I can live here for a while until I figure out what I want my life to look like. We could build something together.
Unless he doesn’t want me.
I know in my heart that that isn’t it—no one could fake the connection we have. But something isn’t right.
With only a few days left in my volunteer commitment, my flight home is booked, and there is an elephant the size of New York dancing in every room we walk in.
I’m snuggled up on the couch in the employee room, enjoying the early-evening quiet and talking to Eva on FaceTime. She called while I was designing some evergreen graphics for the sanctuary to use even after I’m gone.
“So you really think you’ll go back out there?” she asks. I hear concern in her voice, but no judgement.
“I think I’ve finally found something meaningful that I want to do, not that someone else told me was good, or smart, or socially acceptable.”
Eva sucks her teeth. “That’s pretty badass. I wouldn’t want to give that up either.”
“I don’t think it has to be saving sea turtles, but I don’t know what it is yet. And I’m happier here than I can ever remember being. I have the money, I have the time, it’s not like there’s anyone waiting for me back home.”
Eva’s expression makes me laugh. “Besides you, of course. Everyone else is just busy. They’ve got their own lives. Lisa has Baby Luna and my parents are pretty obsessed with being grandparents right now. I’ve always been the easy one who did what I was told. No one’s worrying about me.”
“Do you think they’ll worry now? Have you told them anything?”
“No. They obviously know I extended my stay, but I haven’t talked to them about flying back permanently. They know David and I are through, so a generous interpretation of their silence is that they’re giving me space, but like I said, they’re just busy.”
“It’s giving serious Eldest Daughter.” Eva sighs, and it loosens something in my chest to know that even thousands of miles away, my best friend knows what I’m going through. At least, until she burst out with—“So how is ol’ Steve? Crikey mate!”
I’m spared the necessity of responding to Eva’s terrible impression when Jake appears on screen. He’s shirtless, wrapped in a towel, and searching through the refrigerator in the background.
“Eva, is that—”
She blushes and turns to ogle him. “Yeah, Jake’s visiting.”
“I can’t believe you let me rant all that time and you didn’t say anything! Hi Jake!”
“Hi Junie.” He waves and then checks that his towel is covering everything before moving off-screen.
Eva’s grinning, but before she can say anything else, Thomas bursts into the room, out of breath.
“I found you!” he pants as I pull an AirPod out. “The babies, we think they’re coming!”
My chest flutters. It’s happening. I’ve been so afraid that I would miss the hatching, it’s been looming over my head like a gray cloud.
“I’ve got to go, babe. The baby turtles are hatching!” I click off the phone amidst her coos and cries of “Take lots of pics!”
“Steven’s out looking for you too. We didn’t want you to miss it.”
“Thank you,” I say, touched that he thought of me. Thomas has seen a lot of hatching nests over the years but his clear excitement is contagious.
We fly through the sand toward the stretch of beach I remember from Night Watch with Steven. Memories of that first kiss make me blush and I just hope that no one notices.
The new volunteers are grouped around a patch of palm trees, chatting quietly while the sun slowly dips behind the horizon. Mt Agung glows in the distance and insects buzz around my ears.
From the direction of our bungalow, Steven appears. When our eyes meet, as always, I melt into a puddle for this man. I feel the air shift and my insides hum as if someone has plucked the invisible string that ties us to each other.
“You made it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. His body heat surrounds me. I’m home.
Mike nods to us, jumping up from a squat and gesturing everyone closer. Victoria hovers at his elbow, looking serene.
“We’ve seen activity in this nest over the last few days and we think they’re ready to come out.
This is a really special experience so let’s respect the turtles and let nature take its course.
No lights, no loud noises, no touching. We have a red light if it gets too dark, but it’s best to let your eyes adjust naturally. ”
My heart is racing in the best way. My blood rushes with endorphins, ready to run a mile, even though we’re all settling in to watch. I wish Mason and Juliette were here. How do I miss them more than my ex-boyfriend—the one I thought I’d marry?
Steven’s chest is firm and muscled against my back and I have a pretty good answer to my question.
We’re a silent group, staring at the patch of sand that bubbles and shifts. This stretch of beach is deserted with tangled mangroves on either side. As the sun disappears beneath the water, the temperature drops significantly, and our eyes adjust to the dark.
“They’re coming,” Mike whispers, his big grin reflecting starlight. Victoria snuggles into his side, watching the nest.
I hold my breath and we all seem to lean as one. A tiny, spider-like creature pops to the surface and my mouth drops open. Soon the area is flooded, dozens of tiny turtles are flapping their little fins as they climb over and under each other, fighting their way out of the ground.
It’s impossible to hold back all of our gasps and noises of appreciation. Some people have to step away. Each hatchling is smaller than my palm and I ache to scoop them up and admire them, but they flap confidently to the shore, ignoring us completely.
With a pang, I realize I’m jealous of a baby turtle, born with such a strong internal compass. They know exactly where they belong in the world, and they’re running toward it fearlessly.
“In 25 to 30 years, any female turtles who make it will come back to this beach to nest,” Steven murmurs. His lips against the shell of my ear make me shiver.
Why does it feel like a tiny piece of me, of us, would come back with them?
I learned at the sanctuary that the baby turtles are heading out into the open ocean, but scientists don’t really know where they go for the next decade of their lives. They call it “the lost years”. I feel like I’ve been living in my lost years since college.
I went to school because people expected it of me.
I majored in Business because I was promised it would lead to a good career.
I moved in with my long-term boyfriend because that’s what you’re supposed to do—but what would my life look like if I could start all over from scratch, without the expectations placed on a “promising” gifted child?
I turn in Steven’s arms and bury my face in his chest, head turned to watch the babies make their triumphant run toward the sea. Only 1 in 1000 would make it to adulthood. Life is precious; it should be lived with your whole heart and not a second should be wasted.
I can’t change the past, but I can make better decisions going forward. I can choose to change. To listen to my heart instead of the voices of everyone else.
“Are you okay?” Steven asks, rocking on his feet and swaying our bodies gently.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” I whisper.
We leave the group, walking hand in hand back down the quiet path to the bungalow.
“I’m leaving soon.” I focus on the way that the sand feels beneath my feet.
“I know.” His voice low, resigned.
“And then I’ll come back.”
“Sure.” He nods, but I can tell he still doesn’t believe me. I know he’s been hurt in the past, but I need him to listen. I stop, taking his face between my hands and look deep into his eyes.
“I will come back. My place is here now. Unless you don’t want me.”
His expression is pained as he pulls out of my grip.
“Of course I want you. But how can you be sure that once you’re back in the States, you’ll feel the same?
When you can drive everywhere in a comfortable car, and get anything you want delivered to your door in hours?
Are you sure you won’t get a taste of cold aircon and Western plumbing and leave all this behind? ”
My chest aches. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t realize how much I love him in such a short time. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”
“It’s not shallow. It’s human nature. It’s comfortable. It’s your home. Your life. It’s all that you know. Once you get on that plane, this will all become a memory. A story you tell at parties. It won’t even be real.”
“Of course it will be real.”
He shakes his head. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and there’s a whole world waiting for you back in New York. All I have to offer you here are coconuts and damp, salty clothes.”
I grab his hand, refusing to let him walk away from this.
“New York doesn’t have the most important thing of all—it doesn’t have you.
I want sunrises on the water and lugging all of our gear.
I want bonfires on the beach with the neighborhood kids.
I want the turtles, the ocean, and the crew.
I want a life with you. None of that requires a big house and a fancy car. ”
For a moment, I can see hope in his eyes, but it’s quickly shuttered.
“Go tie up your loose ends. You know where I’ll be.”
He turns away from me, clearly wrestling with something.
My chest is exploding with panic signals.
He’s been hurt so badly by someone who was supposed to love him.
How can I convince him that I’m finally choosing me, and that means choosing us?
I can’t leave him alone here on the island, doubting everything we have, letting him sit and stew and build all of his walls back up. Not after how far we’ve come.
It might not make sense. It’s not easy or simple.
It probably isn’t what a responsible adult would do, but I don’t care anymore.
I don’t want it to be easy or obvious. I don’t want to ask anyone else what they think or to make a pro/con list. For once, I want to leap without looking.
I want to take something for myself, even if it’s impractical and messy.
So I reach out, and pray he’ll jump with me.
“Then come with me,” I blurt. The ocean breeze nearly tears the words from my mouth.
He stiffens then turns to look at me. “What?”
“Come with me to Eastern Pines. Come see this glamorous life that you think I can’t live without. An empty house, a loud family, a soul-sucking job. I’m drowning in mediocrity. Maybe you’ll believe me then.”
His eyebrows rise. He seems to think it over, thoughts flashing across his face rapidly. “But you leave in two days.”
“Can the sanctuary run without you for a few weeks?” I ask, heart pounding. This is the solution; I know it. He doesn’t want to feel isolated, like a vacation fling. So I’ll let my two worlds collide.
“I—I can talk to Mike,” he says, still shaking his head in disbelief.
“You should do it now.” I put my hands on my hips. “He’s probably still at the hatching, let’s go.”
I hold out my hand for him, but he moves past it, cradling my face in between his big fingers and kissing me so thoroughly, it leaves me breathless. My legs are shaking as we walk back down to the beach.
I’d set out to have a one night stand, now I was bringing my scuba instructor home with me. Is everyone going to think I’ve lost my mind?
As we approach the group, Steven squeezes my hand then pulls Mike aside. Victoria catches my eye, but I turn away, fighting back my smile. I watch the baby turtles scramble toward the open ocean, fighting for life, and cheer them on silently.