I crash my mouth onto his, smearing my suddenly wet cheeks against his, and I use the kiss to slow my breath and my tears. I kiss him until I stop crying and I feel him harden against me. Then I reach down, move my swimsuit to the side and slide him inside me. We don’t fuck, we just line up and stay joined together, and we stay like that for many silent minutes.
Finally, Marty speaks. “I should have money for flights to London in a few weeks,” he whispers in my ear.
“Marty, I don't want you to bankrupt yourself to come and see me,” I say, pulling back to look at him.
His shoulders sink a little. “I owe so much money already, you could say I'm already bankrupt.”
I open my mouth, but Marty continues to speak. “Please don't offer to pay for them. Or say you'll come to me. I still live with my parents. That's not going to be a good look no matter how much I suspect they may like you now.”
“It would bother me if you were struggling to pay for flights to London,” I say simply. This much is true, and he deserves whatever truth I can give him.
“You made me a promise.” His jaw tightens.
“I did?” I blink.
“You promised me tomorrow wouldn't be goodbye forever.”
“I did,” I confirm.
“Please don't break that promise,” he says, his voice low.
“I love you, Marty.”
“That's not answering my question.”
“Didn't I also promise you something else?” I put my fingers in his hair, run my nails all over his scalp.
“What?” He bends into my touch.
“That everything will be okay.” I push up to kiss the firm edge of his chin.
It takes longer than I expect but he finally melts a little, leans into me and eventually, finds my mouth and kisses me back. I don’t know who starts to move first, him or me, but together we rock our bodies in a rhythm only we know until I’m squeezing him and he’s filling me, and I close my eyes to the future.
After, when he slips out of me, we both sigh and he tightens his arms around me as if to compensate. And that's how I stay until the sun has sunk so far down that when I finally open my eyes, the world is a completely different colour.
The Next Day
Chapter Forty-Two
Marty
It's the first morning I beat my dad. And I don't just beat him. I thrash him. I'm racing up our climb and speeding down the descent like my life depends on it, which feels entirely plausible considering I am approaching my final few hours with Jenna. I enjoy the muscle burn, the views of the island and of the beach where Jenna and I had our day together, but I also regret leaving her side. When we're about five kilometres away from the resort, winding around the zig-zagging coastal road, I look back at Dad and he lifts his hand and waves me on, and I hope he knows how grateful I am.
I hadn't wanted to go on the bike ride, but last night, after our sunset swim and then a long hot shower, she told me she was too exhausted to pack and that she would need time in the morning to do it, so she suggested I get up at the same time and do my ride with Dad. She had the alarm set before I could convince her otherwise, and I wasn't about to spend our last night together arguing with her. Not when I could lie in bed, sniffing her hair and feeling her stomach rise and fall under my hand as I drifted off to sleep.
There is relief when I burst into our villa and Mum only says hello as I rush to get showered. I smile when I come out of the shower and find a cup of coffee and a pastry waiting for me by my bed where she usually leaves a glass of water. They taste all kinds of wrong after I've cleaned my teeth, but I hastily gulp both down.
“Thanks, Ma!” I call out as I pull on clean underwear, shorts and a T-shirt.
“I’ll see you later,” I say as I charge to the front door.
“Good luck!” Mum calls out.
“Say goodbye from us!” Maeve yells.
Goodbye. Goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye. I'm not going to say goodbye. Because this is not goodbye.
And those are the first words that leave my mouth when I'm finally at her villa and she's opening the door to my incessant banging.
