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“Hey, love. It’s okay,” Jack murmured, wrapping his arm around Anna. “We both didn’t. We thought we were doing the right thing.” His eyes met mine. “We should’ve trusted her.”
My ears rang.
Hot tears threatened to spill. “S-She heard me calling her...”
My heart scrambled with joy.
She heard me...
She felt me.
Fuck, she felt me.
How much did she feel?
“She heard you, mate. Loud and fucking clear.” Jack cleared his throat, unwound his arm from around Anna, then opened the Jeep’s door. “But Anna’s right. We can’t be there when she sees you. I feel like I’ve let her down so badly. Five years of wishing she could move on. Five years of fearing she’d eventually drive herself insane or worse...all to learn she was right.”
He wiped away a falling tear. “I doubted my own daughter. I failed her in so many ways. Just like I failed you. Fuck. This is insane. Seeing you again. Touching you.” He struggled to smile. “Like Anna said, I don’t have the words. All I can say is...we can’t go with you. We can’t watch Neri break again. But we’ll be here, Aslan. We’ll be here for when you’re ready to tell us what happened.”
Striding to me, he grabbed my hand and pressed the keys into them. “Go to her. She’s number twelve on Baler. Go. She heard you, mate. Fuck, she heard you every damn day you were gone. Just like you heard her all those years ago.”
He sniffed and bowed his head. “You once told me you killed for her. That you turned into the devil himself to protect my only daughter. Whatever you’ve suffered, Aslan. Wherever you’ve been and whatever nightmares you’ve endured, I need you to know that I will never doubt you again, never question you, never hold you back. You and her?” He shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never known anything as strong as the love you guys share. It’s survived years of distance. Months of heartache. It’s real and I’m in awe of both of you.”
He stepped away and hugged Anna again. “Now, get over there. Meet your daughter. And try not to kill our daughter by coming back to life.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
*
Nerida
AGE: 25 YRS OLD
*
(Love in German: Liebe)
“I’M GOING TO GET YOU,” TEDDY ROARED as he chased after Ayla.
“No, no!” she squealed and took off as fast as her almost five-year-old little legs could carry her, bolting through the side gate to the overgrown front garden. Eddie took off after them, growling like a moron.
Ayla’s scream echoed with fun, joy, and excitement.
Just because Teddy had transformed this three-bedroom home into a boho chic dreamhouse and the back garden now had a five-metre-deep swimming pool, glass fence, and sparkly pavers didn’t mean any of us were good at staying on top of swiftly growing tropical vines, weeds, and flowers at the front. Our poor letter box was being strangled again by some invasive plant.
“Eddie, it’s your turn to weed whack!” I shouted after the two husbands, following my daughter’s wet footprints from where she’d launched out of the pool and sprinted around the garden in an attempt to fly.
She was so sure she could fly after I’d shown her videos of exocoetidae, also known as flying fish, on YouTube. I was determined that just because I’d never returned to school didn’t mean she wouldn’t be a marine biologist if she wished to be.
She might look like Aslan and share his serious scowls, but she was me in every other way. I could barely keep her out of the water. I should’ve called her after the sea instead of the moon because she was adamant she was part fish and had stuck a painting on the fridge of a bubble pod last week, claiming it was her new room in Lunamare—if we ever built it.
Over five years and nothing to show for it.
We had a prototype we believed could work.
We’d solved the lack of sunlight issue, the foundation and anchoring issue, and tried to foresee as many complications with storms, sea-levels rising, and did our best to integrate with the environment rather than disturb it.
But...that was as far as we’d got.
Fundraising could only raise so much.
We’d exhausted all our own funds.
If we didn’t get a decent cash flow soon, all three of us would have to find other employment. And that killed me because...I’d already had to say goodbye to one dream. I’d lost the most important person in my life. I didn’t think I’d survive losing the vague but hopeful belief that one day I could live beneath the waves and find a smidgen of healing for my broken heart.
Enough, remember?
You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore.
Sighing and pushing away my sadness, I broke into a jog to chase after my wayward daughter. My heart twinged just a little, toying with me. The strange palpitations had faded recently, and I hadn’t taken up the cardiologist on his offer of a follow-up appointment.
