Fly saw that Shawl noted the way Than refused to look at him. He met Fly’s gaze with a neutral one.
His mind and body were exhausted when he climbed the stairs and went into his designated room. He closed his eyes, suddenly homesick for Texas and his M&M and Clint. Their warm arms and support. Maybe he would fly out to see them in a couple of weeks. That seemed to settle him.
The sound of the wind against the windows followed him down.
The wind was perfect.
Mei felt it first in her chest, the lift and pull that told her they were in sync, the boat answering Fly’s hands the way it always did. He stood braced at the helm, steady and calm, voice carrying without ever needing to rise. She loved that about him. The way command sat on him like it belonged there.
She wanted to be like that.
She glanced back at Than, saw the familiar focus in his eyes, the quiet strength that always made her feel safe. He never rushed her. Never made her feel small for needing time. Fly was the future she admired. Than was the ground beneath her feet.
Her guys.
The boat cut clean through the water, fast and sure, her hands working Fly’s order, the main sails her domain. She laughed, breathless, exhilarated. This was it. This was the moment when everything worked. Where the three of them moved like one body.
Then the world tilted.
It happened too fast, a violent shudder, the line snapping, the deck pitching under her feet. The sky vanished. The wind roared.
She hit the water hard.
Cold slammed into her like a living thing. She surfaced once, gasping, the boat already pulling away, Fly shouting her name. She tried to answer. Tried to kick. The tether burned against her leg.
The second wave took her under.
Panic exploded through her chest. Animal and immediate. She fought, arms flailing, lungs screaming as the water pressed in. She knew then with terrifying clarity.
I’m going to drown. Her thoughts scattered, then narrowed. Fly, please don’t blame yourself for the weather. You did everything right. You always do.
Her chest tightened, not with water yet, but with grief.
Than, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you. You’re allowed to grieve, but don’t trap yourself there. Let me go. Let me live in you forever, not as loss, but as something that made you brave.
The water forced its way in.
Fire tore through her lungs. The world went dark at the edges. Her body convulsed, desperate and failing, the cold now everywhere, inside her, filling her.
Her last thought wasn’t fear. It was love.
Fly woke up choking.
Air tore into his lungs in ragged gulps, his body thrashing against the sheets like he was still fighting the water. His chest burned. His throat ached. Tears streamed down his face before he could stop them.
He curled forward, arms wrapped around himself, wrecked.
Mei’s voice still echoed in his head. Don’t blame yourself. Let me go. His hands shook. Was that her answer? Or was it just his own mind giving him what he wanted so he could survive?
Than knew this couldn’t last.
The sulking. The edge. The way he’d been carrying himself like a drawn blade. It was ugly, and it was beneath him. Worse, it was hurting people who didn’t deserve it.
Bear and Bailee had opened their home to him, given him space, patience, grace. And Fly…Fly had been trying, quietly and relentlessly, to stay connected.
That workout. That fucking question.
It had brushed too close to what Than was trying to keep buried. He had blamed Fly, in his thoughts, in the broken places of his heart. The realization sickened him. Not just because it was unfair, but because it was true enough to scare him.
