Someone Else's Ocean(20)

Jasmine squeezed my hand. “Go home.”





On my deck wrapped up in a blanket and freezing, even with the day’s heat, I popped a pill from my prescription bottle, my jaw shaking from the onslaught of cramps. It felt like two tiny men had cut their way into my abdomen and were playing the bongos. I lay in my hammock in a ball as I listened to the waves in an attempt to ignore my treacherous body. My insides screamed and I braced myself for the worst. I’d been diagnosed with endometriosis a few years before I left New York. Clustered with severe mood swings and my anxiety, for several days of each month, I was a ticking time bomb. I did what I could to kick the mood swings with workouts that had me crawling toward a hot shower and relaxation techniques my therapist had taught me. Nothing helped but drugs and time. Though I’d been managing the clusterfuck for years, it still felt like a small Armageddon every single month. I was lucky enough to have a best friend as a boss who allowed me to slip away for a few days until the worst of it subsided. A shock wave of pain coursed through me and I tensed when another set of cramps hit hard.

Some time later, with my eyes tightly shut I sensed I wasn’t alone.

“Koti?”

I wiped the tears from my face and pressed my chin to my chest to hide them.

“Go away.”

Ian stood to the side of my hammock. I could feel the day’s heat coming off him. Lifting my eyes, I noticed his skin had slightly bronzed from the sun. For the first time, I was able to study the solid wall of tattoos that covered his right pec—Semper Fidelis ran in a bold cursive pattern in the middle of two crossed swords on his bicep. He’d been a Marine. He’d also lost some of the weight around his middle in the last few weeks. If I wasn’t so engrossed in my pain, I might have noticed how long his eyelashes were and how they were so dark they looked wet and spread out in a beautiful pattern over his cheek when he looked down at me. If I wasn’t in complete agony, I might have noticed the fullness of his lips and the small white scar in a subtle divot on his chin where stubble refused to grow.

“You’ve been crying for hours.”

“I’m fine. Sorry about the noise.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and bit my lip to keep from moaning. He scanned the porch and pulled the prescription bottle from the table and eyed it. I was too wrapped up to give a damn. Inside my body was unleashing hell.

“What happened? You’re hurt?”

“Ian, what do you want?”

Meeting his gaze, I saw eyes filled with concern. It was completely ironic.

“I’m fine.” Even as I said it, my voice shook and fresh tears leaked out of my eyes.

He looked at me pointedly for a believable explanation, but I wouldn’t bring myself to tell him I had the most painful periods in the history of womankind. And every month I cursed Eve for her treacherous act because of that tempting apple.

Ian opened the bottle and handed me another prescribed pill along with the bottled water I’d left on my table. I took the pill and swallowed it, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of cramping. I bared my teeth and grunted as it hit hard.

“Jesus, Koti, what’s wrong?” It was odd seeing his concern for me. We’d remained complete strangers in his first few weeks on the island, yet I had felt the need to protect him from his own hurt. Maybe he was beginning to remember that for a few weeks, and endless summers ago, we were childhood friends.

“It will pass. I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” He stood watching me shake for several moments before he reluctantly made his way off the porch.

Hours later I awoke in a sweaty heap. The sun had set and the only light was the moon’s half glow. When I tried to shift in the hammock, I realized there was an arm wrapped around me. It tightened as I moved to get up.

Ian’s smooth voice rumbled behind me. “Feeling better?”

I wanted to ask him what in the hell he was doing. I wanted to fight him and throw his comforting efforts away as he had mine, but in truth, it felt amazing being in his arms. Suddenly, I was aware of his breath on my neck and the gentle stroke of his fingers on my stomach. The breeze covered us both as I laid mute, too exhausted to argue instead embracing his rare gift of comfort.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard,” he whispered, his apology sounding sincere. “Sleep.”

I eased back into his strong hold as he took small liberties with his fingers. The weight of his body behind me was a reassuring reprieve from the constant ache. He pulled me tighter as the ocean breeze drifted over us. I pressed myself further into him and gripped the hand that stroked me as another debilitating wave took hold. I breathed through it as he murmured into my hair. Body tense, I cried quietly in his arms until I slipped back into an exhausted sleep.

I barely stirred when the hammock moved some time later and when I woke up, I was alone.





A few days later, I emerged from my house feeling as if I’d been through a war. Ian had knocked on my door twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. As I walked down the steps to get to my Jeep, I saw him unload a handful of wood onto his deck, his eyes intent on me. “You’re better then?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Ian’s eyes lowered to my sandals. “I see you are still fond of those dreadful gold sandals, but they suit you.”

I smiled at him and he back at me.