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He’s left. And he didn’t say goodbye.
Arya shakes her head. “That can’t be true. Percy was taking me to dinner on the water tonight. He was going to ask me…”
Arya’s face loses the happy glow it had.
“Can we hear the message?” I ask. Maybe Kate misunderstood.
She shrugs, pulls out her phone and plays the message on speaker. The message is from five this morning. Right around the time I finally fell asleep.
Declan’s voice comes out loud and clear.
“Miss Collingwood. This is Declan Fox.”
“I know who you are,” mutters Kate unhappily.
I wrap my hands around my mug of coffee. His voice is so stiff and formal it makes me cold. The message continues.
“Mr. Oliver and I are leaving Mariposa on this morning’s flight. We will not be returning.”
“Ever,” Kate says. She drops her head to the table.
I look over at Arya, she’s staring at the phone and she looks like she’s holding her breath.
“It didn’t suit.” Declan says over the voicemail, and in those three words I hear all the meaning buried within. I didn’t suit. He’s not interested. And somehow, he’s convinced Percy that he isn’t interested either.
“Discontinue the search for a property.” Another pause. And even though I know he isn’t going to say anything personal, and he certainly isn’t going to say anything to me, this is a message on Kate’s phone after all, I lean forward and wait for him to.
“That is all.”
The message ends.
Kate bangs her head against the table another time. “My white whale,” she moans. “I didn’t even get the chance to catch him. I needed more time. I could’ve made him happy for a year. He was practically begging for a first wife.”
I turn from Kate and look at Arya. She’s staring out the kitchen window, looking confused and alone, just like she did at the beach on Rosa when Declan pulled Percy away.
There’s a rush of anger, deep in my gut. Last night, when he refused to stop meddling in people’s love lives, he practically told me this was going to happen.
He told me he was going to do this.
I reach over and put my hand on top of Arya’s. She looks down when I squeeze her fingers, and she doesn’t look back up.
After a few seconds of Kate thumping her head on the table and Arya’s silence, Kate lifts her head and looks at me.
“La-La?”
“Yeah?”
She frowns at me. “What did you do to Declan last night?”
I raise my eyebrows.
What?
Kate sits up straighter and she narrows her red-rimmed eyes. I can see the wheels turning on her head.
“He was fine on the boat. Everything was going swimmingly. I was luring my whale in. Arya had a proposal all wrapped up. Then you”—she points at me—“toss him overboard—”
“I did not.” I hold up my hands.
“And next morning, they’ve left the island. And will never return.” She says “never return” with solemn finality. “So tell me. What did you do to Declan last night?”
Kate’s lips are pursed and there’s an unhappy wrinkle between her brows.
“Nothing,” I say. “Absolutely nothing. Truly nothing.”
Then I think of floating in the bioluminescence with Declan and our hands touching, and I think of him hammering my grandpa’s shelf, and I think of him licking the apricot juice from his lips.
Nothing happened.
Then I hear Declan’s voice in my mind saying, “Methinks thou protesteth too much.”
I flush, suddenly hot and itchy.
Kate narrows her eyes.
“That’s not nothing,” she says, pointing at my cheeks.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. We argued. We always argue. I told him to stop meddling with true love. To leave Percy and Arya be. That’s all.”
Kate smacks her head. “You drove them away.”
Arya interjects. “I think you’re rushing to conclusions. Percy isn’t like this. He wouldn’t leave without letting me know. I’ll call him.”
Arya pulls her phone out and dials Percy’s number. We wait until his voicemail picks up.
I can tell she’s trying to sound upbeat and chipper. “Hi. It’s me. I was just calling to let you know I’m excited to see you tonight. I can’t wait.” She stops for a second, then she says, “Okay. I…I’ll see you tonight.”
Arya hangs up.
“He’ll call,” I say, reassuring Arya.
Kate sighs, but at least she doesn’t disagree.
“Of course he will,” Arya says. She looks at her phone. “But just in the case, I’ll text him too.” She taps a message into her phone: see you tonight!
“He’ll text,” I say.
Arya smiles at me, confidence pasted over worry. “Of course he will.”
Arya heads to work. Kate finishes off the fritters and then leaves at nine to drum up more clients to replace Declan and her missed opportunity, including the multi-million-dollar property sale.
I spend the day writing an article on local beach cleanup efforts. At eight o’clock, when the light’s gone and the sun is down, Arya knocks on the door.
When I open it her mouth wobbles.
“He didn’t call,” she says.
I open the door wider.
“He didn’t text,” she says.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I say.
She drops her head. “But he does. That’s the horrible part. I threw out my list for him. I threw out my list.”
I pull her in for a hug. I wrap her in my arms and hold her.
“I’m sorry, Arya. But honestly, he probably clips his toenails at the dinner table. You just didn’t know him long enough to find out.”
Arya pulls back and gives me a horrified look.
