Page 26 of Hollow Child

“I know,” he said and exhaled roughly. “But I should get back and check on her, in case she got sick again.”

We went back inside, down the hall to our respective rooms. I opened the door to my room in time to see Boden walking out of the on-suite bathroom, shirtless with his jeans unbuttoned and hanging on his hips. His short hair was damp, and he raked his fingers through it.

“Did you just shower? Is there running water?” I asked excitedly.

“Yeah, it has gravity pumps and a filter, so we filled the tank up with river water,” he explained. “We still need to boil it first before drinking it, but the catchment tank uses the sun to warm it. It is plenty good enough to get off all the dirt and grime from my shift in the engine room.”

“You’re done for the day?” I asked.

“Yeah, we’re nearly to the waterfall.”

“So that means I can grab a shower?”

“It’s still a little cool, but it’s refreshing,” he said with a weak smile. There was something dark in his eyes, but probably he was just tired from a long day.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” I suggested.

“That was my plan,” he admitted and rubbed the back of his neck.

He had left several candles burning in the bathroom, illuminating it in a warm glow. The littlebottles of soap and shampoo remaining from the boat’s last voyage were congealed and gross, but being able to rinse off the filth and sweat was enough. It was more tepid than warm, but it was plenty refreshing.

A plush robe was hanging on the back of the door, and I shook it out before slipping it on. Honestly, it was probably cleaner than most of the clothing in my bag.

When I came out of the bathroom, Boden was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back with his arms propping him up. The fading sunlight came in through the wide gap in the curtains, and in that light, I could see that he looked more than tired.

“You went with the robe,” he commented when he saw me. “But you’ve always been more of a risk taker than me.”

“I never really thought of myself as a risk taker,” I said and started toward him. “Are you okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that your father’s name was Charles?” he asked.

I stopped in my tracks, confused. “What?”

“My name is Charlie, and his is Charles. You’d think it would’ve come up sometime in the past eight years.” He was looking up at me, sullen and angry.

“Nobody calls you Charlie. I think of you as Boden,” I argued. “It never occurred to me, I guess. I know your family’s names. Your parents were Jimmy and Samantha, and your sisters were Kate, Emma, and Libby.”

“You know about them because I told you.” He said that like it was an accusation.

“Well, if you were so concerned about my parents’ names, you should’ve just asked me,” I snapped back at him.

“I could’ve asked, and you would’ve deflected or gotten annoyed or just plain walked away from theconversation, like you do any time I try to really talk about the past,” he argued. “God forbid I even mention life before you met me.”

“Because before that, everything was awful!” I reminded him harshly. “We didn’t have any peace or happiness until the lakehouse. Why would I want to remember any of that?”

“Because I want to know you!” Boden yelled.

“You think you don’t know me?” I shook my head. “That’s absurd. Just because I don’t like talking about the past –”

“It’s not just that. You still hold me at arm’s length.” His jaw tensed as he stared up at me. “You were so offended when Polly thought we were married.”

“I was not offended,” I insisted. “I was caught off guard. But is that what all this is about? You want to be married?”

“Yes, I do! I love you, and I’m sharing my life and my bed with you. Why wouldn’t I want to be married to you?”

“Because marriage is for religion, tax breaks, and having kids. None of those things apply to us.”

“Why about love?” he asked me in dismay. “Why can’t we get married for love?”