Page 40 of Redemption Island

“I didn’t dream her,” I said, assuring both myself and Colton.

“You did. She was beautiful, right? She was perfect, yeah? She forgave you.” His voice thickened. I turned to face him.

“What do you know?” I hissed. She loves me, I screamed in my head.

“She loved you,” he repeated as if he heard my thoughts. “But it wasn’t real.”

“Stop it,” I yelled, covering my ears like a child.

“I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been here before.” He nodded in the direction of the fallen haven. “I wanted to believe it, too. But it wasn’t real. She was already gone. She couldn’t have been here.” His voice drifted off as if in a memory, and I stared at him, mouth falling open.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“I did something that could never be repaired. Not with her. Coming here gave me focus—clarity and perspective—but I could never be fully restored. I couldn’t bring her back.” He sucked in air on the words and closed his eyes. He was silent a second, and I turned back to the pile of rubble. My eyes searched, but I found nothing. No hint that she’d been here. No scrap of clothing. No bedding or mosquito netting. I could explain it all in my head. The storm damage. The gale force wind. The heavy rain, but nothing remained. I walked up to the tree.

“You want to believe she was real, and so she was.” Colton paused behind me. “But only to you.”

My hand fell heavily on the thick trunk and my head came forward. I didn’t dream her, I told myself. I couldn’t have. She was real. I felt her. I looked down at my hand, the hand that cupped her jaw and touched her body. The hand that held her to my chest and led her in a dance. The hand that covered hers as she stroked me and fingered her as I filled her. She was real.

I thought I heard my name, a shriek in the wind, but when I turned to Colton for confirmation he heard it, his expression hinted at nothing, and I dismissed the sound as the screech of a returning seagull. I felt for the small knife in my cargo short pocket and pulled it out. J M, I etched into the soft trunk of the tree and then added my initials under them. J.M. + T.C. She ruled over me. It was juvenile and crush-worthy, but it signified I’d been there. And so had she.

31

Day 69 – Juliet

“Juliet,” Lillian exhaled like a relieved mother. She pulled me to her and kissed my cheek. Pressing me back almost as quickly, she assessed my body, and I worried she could see the pleasure he’d given me.

“What happened to your head?” Her tone shifted, a soft shriek added to her concern. Nimble fingers touched over the scab.

“Oh, I was hit by a tree going up the mountain.”

“You went up the mountain in that storm?” she questioned, looking past me. She’d found me a little distance from the tree house and I was eager to return to my things. My notes were safely tucked into my satchel but I had other valuables I wanted to check on. And then, I wanted to find Tack.

“There is a cave on higher ground, and we went there.”

“We?” Lillian didn’t even blink at the word. Her eyes widened, and her fingers dug into my arms.

“Yes. Lillian, I have so much to tell you,” I chattered, attempting to step around her. A false smile formed on her face and her mouth twitched. “There’s this—”

“You can tell me all about it on the boat,” she said, interrupting me as she slipped her arm through mine and led me away from the island home.

“What?” I questioned, walking a few feet with her before tugging on her arm to stop us. “What boat?”

“Juliet, we haven’t much time. You just lived through a hurricane, but another one is coming. We’ve come to bring you home.”

“Home,” I mouthed, the word nothing more than a whisper. I blinked back the sudden tears. I didn’t have a home. I didn’t want to leave. I had nowhere to go. I wanted Tack. “But I didn’t finish my time. The experiment. It isn’t complete.” I straightened, prepared to stand my ground and refuse to leave.

“The experiment is over. We cannot risk your life. We’ll take the information you have, and you can complete the restoration in another manner on the mainland.”

“But I…I can’t leave Tack.”

“Tack,” she whispered, looking away from me for a moment. The false smile was back. “Why don’t you tell me all about this Tack on the boat?” She reached for my arm, but I pulled back.

“No, I can’t go without him. He was just behind me.” I motioned over my shoulder, spinning in the direction to follow him. Lillian reached for me, gripping my wrist in a hold stronger than I could have imagined from her frame.

“As it appears, he’s left you,” she implied by looking around me, her head tilting from one side of my body to the other. “Perhaps you could explain him. On the boat.” Her voice deepened as she spoke through her teeth.

“He…he didn’t leave me. We…” My voice faded. A shaky hand came to my head. This was the very reason I hadn’t mentioned him before, I told myself. Lillian wouldn’t have understood. Plus, it would have ruined the experiment. Self-reflection. Isolated surroundings. Finding forgiveness. The last idea gave me pause. I didn’t think I could forgive if I hadn’t actually gotten to know Tack, learn who he was, who he is.