Page 62 of Adrift

“T-Tell him…” I just about manage, my voice croaking. Murph just looks at me levelly, and I shake my head slowly. The guilt is written all over my face. I can feel it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Murph just waits for my answer, and I hang my head, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Who… who did?” I ask, my voice trembling. If it’s Murph, I can’t really be mad at him. I didn’t ask anyone to keep it a secret. And he’s probably looking out for his friend.

“I did.”

That’s Berty’s voice from nearby. He’s walking through the golf cart parking lot to meet us, Ladybird’s keys still danglingfrom his fingers. He holds them up with a half-hearted smile. “You want a ride, kid?”

Whoa. I’ve never gotten that offer before.

Berty must feel guilty as hell right now. But it’s not his fault, either. From him, I know it was just a slip of the tongue—and, like Murph, he didn’t know it was a secret.

It wasn’t really supposed to be a secret, either. It just became one. And that’s all my fault.

I tear my eyes away from the keys in Berty’s hand, slowly shaking my head to try to think straight. I can see my front door from here, so he’s not offering me a ride home—he’s offering to drive me to Gage’s place.

“Is it…” I trail off, my mouth dry. I gulp hard, glancing in the direction I think the orchard lies from here. “Should I even go…”

“Yes.”

The answer came from both men at the same time. I have to laugh, even if it’s a wispy, pained little noise that feels like a razor blade against the back of my throat.

If the most talkative and the least talkative man I know tell me the same thing at the same time… I should probably listen.

Berty pockets the keys and pulls out a dry tissue, and it’s only then that I realize how watery the world is right now. There are tears rolling down my cheeks, dripping silently from my nose.

I swallow back the ugly little sob that threatens to break free, accepting the tissue to dab my eyes. “I… I was just scared,” I finally whisper, staring at my feet. “I hate being helpless. Stuck. Backed into a corner.”

Then I steel myself against all the guilt and the fear that are flooding the very pit of my stomach, glancing up at both men—both of my friends.

“I never wanted to feel that way again.”

Berty nods slowly. “You don’t want to leave, do you?” he asks quietly.

Almost before he’s finished, I’m shaking my head. “Which is the worst part. I—I didn’t plan to stay this long. I knew there was a risk this place would become…”

I can’t say the word. The impossibility hurts too much.

“Home,” Murph finishes, and I nod. Then he looks at the poster board in this little shelter at the top of the wharf, and I follow his gaze.

Shit. It’s another poster for the festival. There’s my face, holding a glass of cider, Sunrise Cider logo in plain view. Smiling out of frame at Gage.

These images plaster the island. I can barely take a step without them taunting me. It’s like a smack in the face to realise that’s the very feeling I ran so far away from.

But here I am once again.

Can’t I just stay in bed tomorrow? And every day for the rest of my life?

Something in my chest twists and wrenches apart.

I can’t. Because I didn’t just break my own heart—I think I’ve hurt Gage, too. And even if he doesn’t give me a second chance, I owe him an explanation… and an apology.

I swallow hard around the frog in my throat.

“Is it too late to hand in my notice?” I whisper hoarsely.

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