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Steeling my spine, I turned the page and kept reading. Mum’s beautiful cursive writing filled the page, her loopy l’s, slopey s’s, and curly y’s and g’s making me smile. I remembered her teaching me how to write and how much trouble she’d had getting the letters to look like the alphabet I’d bought home. She was much better at teaching me maths, so we’d focussed on that. Dad had been the one to teach me how to read and write. I’d loved those evenings when he’d sit me down with a book or when Mum and I counted together, then started learning how to add and subtract, how to multiply and what fractions and angles meant.
Shaking out of my trip down memory lane I leaned back and rested my head on Tristan’s shoulder, focussing once more on the words before me. There was something different about this entry. Before, Mum’s need for a break was a desperate longing. But there was a gritty determination that shone through now. She was almost manic in her need to get away.
Two months. It was two months before she went missing. Two months before she drowned, before she took her final breath in the midst of her first weekend away from work. The tear landing on the page startled me. I wiped it away roughly, sniffing and letting out a soft laugh at myself. Shaking my head, I huffed and went back to reading.
“Hey, Zee, what’s wrong?” Flynn asked me, his hand coming up to cup my face.
“Nothing. I’m just being stupid.”
“Don’t do that,” Tristan scolded gently. “We want to be here for you. Let us try.”
“This entry was written two months before Mum died. She was desperate to go on a holiday. The one she finally went on killed her. Fucking irony.”
Tristan shifted on the couch, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. He dropped a kiss on my temple and squeezed me tight, draping his body over mine. Flynn leaned in close, taking my hand in his and threading our fingers together.
It was the catalyst. Like a levy opening, the tears flowed, and I couldn’t stop them. It was like losing Mum and Ash all over again. I was drowning in a sea of grief because this time I knew the horror of what the reality facing me would be like. Unlike when I was younger, I knew that tomorrow when I woke up, this wouldn’t all be a bad dream I could forget about. I knew that they’d still be gone, and I’d see the haunting devastation in Dad’s eyes the next time I saw him. I knew I still had Mum’s name to clear and that this podcast, while bringing me closer to her, had the potential to destroy her reputation.
I hated being vulnerable.
We sat there quietly until the breeze shifted from that of warm afternoon to cool early evening. I was wrung out and exhausted, my muscles aching and my head pounding. I wanted to go to bed and curl up, warm and safe between my men.
When I shivered in my still-wet towel, Tristan murmured, “Let’s get you inside, kitten.”
Two hours later, I was full after a dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. But instead of being fast asleep, I was standing at the security gate to the mooring. I hadn’t wanted either of them to go, but both of them had engagements first thing in the morning.
It was probably a good thing anyway. I needed time. I needed to process everything. I wanted to be on the water, taking a few days to myself, just me and the currents. I was tempted to send Ry with them and navigate the Noble Steed myself to my spot at Jumpinpin and drop anchor, but the likelihood of his saying yes was Buckley’s and none.
The yacht was his baby as much as it was mine. Bend her, and I’d be having an awkward conversation with him. Run her aground or punch a hole in her hull, and I’d never hear the end of it.
“Will you be okay?” Tristan asked, leaning against the railing. He looked casual, standing far enough away from me that a passerby wouldn’t think we were anything more than acquaintances. But I could see in the tense set of his jaw that he wasn’t happy. “I hate this. I want to touch you,” he confessed.
“Me too. But next time I see you, I won’t be moored here. We’ll have more privacy, and you’ll be able to.”
Flynn leaned in, wrapped me up tight, and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”
“You will. But after that I’m going to need a few days. I need to get out of here.” I gestured to the busy marina, the nearby restaurants filled with people.
He paused, assessing me. It was obvious he didn’t like my answer, but he knew I needed it. “Okay. Drive safe tomorrow, and I’ll see you in class.”
We said our goodbyes, and I watched as they walked toward the restaurants lining the marina. Flynn paused at the top of the stairs, turning and waving before he ducked his head and strode after Tristan.
I was onboard again after a moment, and the familiar comfort of my space surrounded me. “Ry,” I called. “I’m off to bed.”
“Okay, ’night.” His response came from the other side of the yacht, but I could hear footsteps.
When he turned the corner, I asked, “Can you get us out of here tomorrow evening? I need to go to class, but after that, I want a few days at Jumpinpin.” It was my favourite spot, the place I escaped to. I needed the peace and quiet and to be away from so many prying eyes. It was like being in a fishbowl here at the marina, and I was sick of being on display for other people’s amusement.
“Sure. I’ll make sure we’re ready to go the moment you get back.” He paused, then hesitated to add, “I’m here if you ever need to talk or want a shoulder to cry on, Zali. I’ll give you all the space you need, but you don’t have to be alone when you’re going through this.”
My throat closed up, and my eyes stung. I couldn’t get any words out, so I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest, relieved that I could hide in my oversized jumper. He saw right through me, coming over to wrap his arms around me and hold me tight. I sank into his embrace, needing him more than anything in that moment. “You’re a bad-arse motherfucker who I’m in awe of every day. But it’s okay to be vulnerable too. I’ll never judge you for needing a hug, and I’ll never hesitate to give you one when you do. Got it, boss?”
I huffed out a laugh and nodded, the warmth in his tone making my eyes water and my nose run.
“Good, now off to bed.” He slapped my butt playfully. “I’ll bring you a glass of water.”
Fourteen
Flynn
