Eventually, we stepped apart, pretending we hadn’t crossed another invisible line.
We stood side by side again, closer than before, the space between us permanently altered.
And this time, the interruption didn’t feel like relief.
It felt like a promise waiting to be kept.
The shoreline of the island began to appear in the distance, green and solid and unavoidable.
“Looks like we’re arriving,” I said.
“Yeah,” he replied.“Looks like it.”
But neither of us looked away from the water just yet, because whatever waited on for us on shore—reality, responsibility, choices—we both knew one thing now.
This wasn’t just a road trip anymore.
And whatever came next...it was going to change something.
Chapter Thirteen
The road from SwartzBay curled south and then west, leaving the water behind in long, gentle bends.Evening light filtered through the trees, turning the world gold and green in equal measure.Tristan drove with the window cracked, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely against the console, probably because he’d made this drive so often it lived in his muscle memory.
The silence between us wasn’t awkward.It was full.Heavy with things that had almost happened and one thing that very nearly had.
I watched the way the muscles in his forearm shifted as he steered, and the faint dusting of hair catching the light.I shouldn’t have been noticing details like that.I shouldn’t have been cataloguing the way he looked at ease here, like the land itself recognized him.
But I was.
We passed a hand-painted sign advertising honey and roadside berries, then another for fresh eggs.The air smelled different now, the salt still lingered, softened by earth and cedar and something faintly sweet.
“Almost there,” he said, breaking the quiet.
“Yeah?”I tried for casual and came up a little breathless.
“Five minutes.”
