Page 29 of Return to the Island

17

The Island smells your fear

They’d consummated their love again, joining their bodies as one, but left the words unspoken. She was troubled by the silence, but she playfully ignored it. The water washed over them, salty and rejuvenating, a baptism of sorts that cleansed them both. The past drifted away, though not entirely forgotten. How could she explain she’d fallen for a man who tried to assault her? It wasn’t something she could say as way of introduction.

He almost raped me, but he didn’t.

Then he burned the building where it happened.

She was confused by his gesture.

She wondered what they were doing on the island. What was the benefit of returning here? Confusion consumed her when they first arrived. She could do nothing but stare, numb at the extravagant display of his wealth. The larger tent, the elaborate dining table, and the expensive chairs spoke as if they were at a resort instead of an island that had been their banishment.

She’d wanted freedom when she first came here, she had told him. She longed for independence. How things had changed, she thought.

One night, everything was stripped away.

Another night, a promise of something more stitched her back together.

Redemption was about a second chance. Was she on the island for another chance with him? Could they recapture what they had or were they only here to finish what they started—seeking absolution?

It had only been one night. Two years had passed. The thought struck her. The date had to be near the anniversary of her first coming to the island.

Oh, the irony, she thought. One night took, one night gave.

He’d been asking. He didn’t want to take. He wanted permission.

But what did she want?

The answer was as clear as the water surrounding her. He swam before her, playfully acting as if he were a fish. He was different here.

Here made him better.

Here made her stronger.

But here wasn’t where they could live, and she knew that. She wiped a hand through her wet hair and laughed in response to him. Her laughter ruffled the leaves as it joined with the breeze. She hadn’t laughed in a long time, and happiness rippled through her, unfamiliar but welcome. It felt good to laugh, just like it felt good to let him in. Her body recognized him, relished in the firmness of him. She already wanted a second round.

A second chance.

I want someone to care about me, she’d told him in the past. Some things did not change. The island stood as witness and watched. She felt it speak to her.

Take what you want, the water whispered to her. Let this be your chance.