Page 55 of Adrift

Gage is really,reallygood with his hands. He’s been learning every inch of my body like it’s a sacred text. He knows exactlywhere to run a finger down my body to wake me up or relax me, even I have no idea how he does it.

And while we’re lying tangled up in each other, touching and being touched, we get to look each other in the eyes and… well, share the moment. Each of our pleasure is both of our pleasure.

Just one more way that we’re in this together.

In the blink of an eye, Gage and I are back on the boat. I know I’m being unusually quiet as I steer us back home, but steering us back home, but I’m still lost in thought about what Hilton said.

And, more importantly… whether I can tell Gage the truth.

The water’s a little choppy today. As I open up the throttle to leave Gabriola behind us, Gage leans over to me. He has to half-shout for me to hear him over the roaring engine, the crash of the waves against the hull.

“Thank you,” Gage tells me, reaching out to squeeze my thigh. “For everything.”

I grin back at him and wink, rather than try to answer him. Then, I rise from my seat a little to look across the upraised bow for any obstacles ahead—logs, seals, or stand-up paddle boarders.

Clear sailing.

Sounds about right. Everything has fallen into place so perfectly these last few weeks. If I just cover my eyes and avert my gaze from the part of the picture where I have to leave a month from now…

I could see a future with Gage. A real future, where I stay, and I find happiness.

But there’s no way. Over the last few weeks, I’ve searched everywhere, read everything I can about extending my visa or getting a different type. Any time I’ve found a solution… it turns out I wouldn’t be eligible.

I’ve always known I’ll have to leave. And I’m staring down the barrel at that deadline now, out of time and out of options and wishing it could turn out differently.

I need to tell Gage. Just… not yet.

We’re both stressed out of our minds. It’s not the right time to drop this news on him. But once the festival is over, the conversations about our future are inevitable. I have a week to find a way to break both of our hearts as gently as possible.

Every jolt as the boat skips across the waves feels like a mirror of what’s in my heart. On a day like today, where it’s choppy but not stormy, the easiest way to cross the water is to speed across it so fast that we skip from wave to wave.

But the moment we slow down, we’re at the mercy of the unchangeable tides.

Chapter

Twenty

GAGE, A WEEK LATER

“I can’t believehow far we’ve come in a few weeks.”

Even while treading water in the ocean, I’m just staring up the beach toward the woods beyond.

As long as I can remember, even when I was a little kid, the orchard has only ever been a tangled jungle. But after these last few weeks spent in a fugue of hammering, sawing, pruning, cutting, you name it…

It’s been transformed into the orchard it was always supposed to be—the one in all the old photos that caught my imagination.

I can’t believe we’ve brought it back to life this quickly.

The grass is neatly clipped, with banks of wildflowers around the edges. The veteran trees have all been checked over. Every tree we could save, we’ve carefully pruned. The fences are freshly painted, and the paths are all marked out. There’s even space marked out for new trees to be planted, to officially begin the new era of Sunrise Cider.

The orchard is ready. The cider arrives tomorrow evening. And then, the next morning… it’ll be time for the festival.

Time really does fly.

“Really? How far is that?” Kieran swims up alongside me and tries to playfully grab me as I do my best to evade him. “Because I’ve only come a hundred feet. And you’re still in the same place, more or less. Maybe a little further out to sea…”

“What do you—” I break off my question as I suddenly realize what he means.

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