Unseen Messages(82)

We each had demons, and unfortunately, we dealt with them alone.

We have to talk to one another.

It wasn’t enough to be island companions; we had to be what we were.

A family.

Orphaned.

Lost.

Forgotten.

I shook away my thoughts, my eyes flicking to the forest behind me. The sun had set, but it wasn’t late. Pippa and Conner had gone for a walk, and Galloway sat carving another spear. His hands flashed white in the darkness, his eyes narrowed with the small amount of illumination coming from the fire.

That was another thing I couldn’t get used to: the dark.

We had a torch from the cockpit, which never died thanks to a windable charge. The beam of light was handy when we used the latrine in pitch black.

I’d dug the facilities a week into our stay, doing my best to keep it downwind and far enough from the camp not to attract smells or insects. We kept a mound of sand beside it to act like a flush, and leaves functioned as another use rather than just a potential food source.

The only other form of light we had was my phone. The torch app had come in handy a few times, but I missed the ease of pressing a switch and harnessing brightness. I missed the convenience of being able to see, regardless of the hour.

I’d taken a lot of things for granted, but most of all, I missed Madeline’s friendship. I missed her easy laugh. I missed the way she pushed me when I needed to be pushed and gave me peace when I’d reached my limit. But most of all, I missed her advice.

Along with every major event in my life, she’d been there when I broke it off with Todd after four years of mental abuse. He’d never touched me, but his mind manipulation turned me into more of a social phobe than I naturally was.

Her advice had been key to me leaving. And if she was here, she’d give me no choice but to deal with the tense awareness between Galloway and me.

She’d force me to answer the ultimate question: did I lust for him or did I love him? And if I loved him...what did that mean? What could it mean on an island like this? What if we were never found? What if we had sex and then hated each other? It wasn’t as if we could vanish and never see each other again.

Our survival relied on our linked resources. It wasn’t safe to jeopardize all of that.

Is it?

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and stood. I needed a walk, and a few days ago, I’d come across a clearing in the forest where a thicket of bamboo grew. Long and thin and strong. I loved to listen to the rustle of their skinny leaves as the breeze made natural music.

I’d also found a cloud of butterflies hovering in the middle of the thicket, dancing like papery short-lived angels.

It relaxed me.

I need relaxing.

Ever since Galloway had caught me taking pictures on my phone, we’d shared the creation of memories and often recorded parts of our new life. We had home movies of fishing and digging and diary moments with no censorship on the mental toll and weighty depression that tarnished everything.

It helped...admitting such things. I was happy to share the device. However, I had one secret I didn’t want him to know.

My notebook and lyrics.

My music was for me. Not him. Not the children (apart from the occasional lullaby for Pippa). Not for anyone. Scratching melodies and forming singable patterns was a therapeutic activity I wanted to keep hidden.

Not that my pages were immune to the hardship of the island.

With every rainstorm, my notebook grew damp, smearing verses, and washing some ink away entirely.

My bare feet slipped over the cool sand as I reached into my bag and hid my notebook in front of me. Staying as inconspicuous as possible, I headed away from the camp.

I wanted to compose but not around him.

He wouldn’t understand the confusion inside me and I had no intention of telling him—not when he refused to tell me anything about his past. All I’d learned was he’d been on his way to Kadavu to build homes for underprivileged locals as part of a charity.

The fact he could build told me he was in that profession and the knowledge that he’d donated his time told me he was either a selfless human being or someone who had to atone for something.

Either way, I’d never know because he would never tell me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Galloway stopped carving his spear, his eyes catching blazing tendrils from the fire.

Damn.

I wasn’t as discreet as I hoped.

Keeping my book hidden, I paused. “Going for a walk.”

“To find Pippa and Conner?”

I kept my back to him, looking over my shoulder. “No, just...to clear my head.”

“You can’t clear it here—” He glanced down. “With me?”

The anxious, unfinished situation between us sprang deeper, demanding closure. For a week, we’d used the children or talks of island life as a way to avoid a messy confrontation.

I was just as guilty as he was for pushing it under the proverbial rug.

But I wasn’t ready to deal with it.

I didn’t think I’d ever be ready.

Don’t do this...

His hands curled on the half-carved spear. “Estelle...you can’t keep avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Bullshit.”

Yes, well, you made me come. You took pleasure and layered it with punishment.