Chapter 44 Undone
Undone
Claire sat at her desk, lesson plans sprawled across the screen, fingers moving on autopilot.
Her mind wasn’t here—hadn’t been for weeks now—but her job required it.
She typed out standards, objectives, and activities she knew she’d scrap by Wednesday.
That was the irony of teaching—crafting detailed blueprints for a classroom that never stayed inside the lines.
“Half the time we don’t even follow these plans,” she muttered to herself. “We wing it. We adjust. We do what the kids need.”
She loved her students. Loved the way their faces lit up when they finally understood something. But even now, even with this job she once thought she’d have forever, Claire felt it—that quiet ache in her chest. That question that had burrowed in and refused to leave.
Is this it?
She clicked Print and pushed away from her desk, the heels of her flats tapping the tile as she headed down the fluorescent-lit hallway toward the workroom. The copier chugged and hummed as she slid her papers into place. And then she saw it.
A flicker of light caught her eye.
It danced across the wall—bright and fluid, like sunlight bouncing off the ocean. For a second, she closed her eyes. Let herself pretend.
Waves crashed. Seagulls cried in the distance. There was salt on the air, warm wind on her skin. And he was there. Jaxon. Smiling like he always did when he caught her staring.
She could feel him—really feel him—until the sound of the jammed copier startled her back into reality. Her eyes snapped open. No ocean. No breeze. No Jaxon.
Just the teacher’s assistant behind her, waiting to make copies.
It had been months since she left the island.
Since the gravel crunched beneath her tires and she watched him fade in the rearview mirror.
And though she and Jaxon talked every day, the space between them felt wider with each passing morning.
Like the ocean had grown between their texts and calls, like the signal only stretched so far before it started to break.
But the island? The island never stopped whispering.
Its tide tugged at her in ways she couldn’t explain. It found her in reflections and shadows, in dreams and stray thoughts that clung like salt to skin.
“The island has a way of turning tourists into locals.”
His words echoed in her head as she walked the hallway back to her classroom. Her steps slowed. Her heart didn’t.
Is that what’s happening? she wondered. Is the island calling me back?
After school, she tossed her bag in the passenger seat and called Sara.
She didn’t even wait to say hello before blurting out what happened in the workroom.
Sara laughed—of course she did—but Claire didn’t.
“Stop laughing, Sara. Do you think the island is… pulling me back?”
The laughter faded. Sara’s voice shifted. Low. Intentional.
“Claire Grace, you're not in a movie. The island’s not calling you.”
The use of her middle name stung in that way only siblings could manage. It wasn’t meant to hurt—but it landed.
Claire fell silent.
And then came Sara’s voice again, softer now. “Maybe it’s not the island. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe your heart stayed when your body left. Maybe it’s your gut trying to tell you that your head made the wrong call.”
Claire didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t.
The ride home was a blur of asphalt and memory.
Every corner of her mind became a snapshot of him. His laugh. His porch swing. The way he kissed her like she was the only thing he’d ever tasted that mattered. She pulled into her driveway, but her thoughts were still three hundred miles away.
She didn’t bother to grab her bag.
She ran inside like she’d just remembered something she was afraid of forgetting again.
And for the next hour, she sat there. On her bed. On the floor. At the counter. Replaying every moment, every kiss, every fight, every apology. Her chest ached from the weight of what she walked away from.
And then she picked up her phone.
Her hands shook.
Her heart didn’t.
She typed fast—like if she hesitated, she’d lose her nerve.
Claire: My bags are packed and my plane is set to arrive next Thursday at 11:05 AM.
Miles away, on the edge of the island, Jaxon’s phone lit up. He read it once. Then again. A slow smile spread across his face.
Jaxon: I’ll be there as soon as you step off the plane.
And just like that, the tide turned.