“This is perfect,” I say without hesitation. “I love this idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” I lean in and kiss him. “Let’s do it.”
The harbor feelslike a different world from the one we’ve been stuck in—open, bright, salt in the air. And, most importantly, people are focused on their own lives, not ours.
We board with our bags and the food I packed. By mid-morning we’re on the water, the harbor slipping away behind us, the city fading from skyline to distance to nothing.
I move to the bow and let the wind take my hair. I can feel the shift—not gone, not fixed, but lighter. Some of the weight I’ve been carrying has loosened its grip.
Music plays from the speakers—a song I don’t recognize, something Dane picked.
The sun sits warm against my skin. I reach back, untie my cover-up, and pull it over my head. I stand there in my bikini, letting the sun warm me.
Behind me, I hear him grumble about trying to focus on open water while I’m standing in front of him looking like that, and I smile.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I say, letting my gaze follow the endless blue.
“Yeah.” His voice is different—not fully relaxed yet, but getting there. “Sun and fresh air. We’ve been inside too long.”
He’s right. We went from spending every day outdoors to hiding inside a house with the curtains closed, avoiding the world.
“We need this.”
“What we need is the peace that goes along with this.”
I turn to look at him—hands steady on the wheel, cap low, eyes narrowed slightly against the light. The tension’s still there, but it’s not sitting as heavy as it was.
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
Dane glances away from the horizon and over at me. “Should I be worried?”
I lean back against the yacht’s railing. “We used to dream about being rescued, but I never thought it would feel like this.”
I don’t soften it. No need to.
“If I’m being honest, I didn’t think being saved would be something we’d want to escape from.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes on the water.
“We fought every day out there. Every single day.” He shakes his head. “This shouldn’t feel the same. It shouldn’t feel like we’re still trying to survive.”
I think about the island—how clear it was. It wanted us dead and never pretended otherwise. We knew the rules. We knew what we were up against.
This is different.
In some ways, worse.
“Maybe the world was always like this, and we were just too young to see it,” Dane says.
“Or maybe it changed while we were gone. Either way, I hate what our lives have turned into.”
“So do I.”
He’s quiet again, then?—
“What if we sold the house?”
