Page 8 of My Wife

A weekend on Halo Island with our old friend group—including a couple of my high school tormentors. It’s Tommy’s found family, and a chance to build new memories…bettermemories on the island.

I grew up. I moved on, remember? Chase is going to be there? Summer? I can handle that, especially if Tommy wanted them to join us for some reason.

And if I’m pretty sure I know what that reason is…

As Tommy stands in front of the stove, giving the spaghetti a quick stir before removing one of the long strands, testing it to see if it’s done, I lean against the counter and thumb the metal of my wedding band.

Shit.

I knew this might be coming. Tommy’s so honest, sogenuine, that it was also inevitable. He’s been dropping hints, too. Talking about how it was a shame that Clay and I eloped, that I deserved a real wedding. He asked me about my favorite flowers—lilies—and mentioned that, while moving in with each other was a start, he was ready to take our relationship to another level.

Like, oh, marriage maybe?

The anniversary of Clay’s death is like a dagger in my chest. It is every October, and I’ve grown to dread Halloween since it’s only a couple of days after I first learned that Clay was gone.

Is that Tommy’s plan? Get me to Halo Island at the end of October with all of our friends and ask me to marry him?

What would I say?

Part of me still thinks of myself as Clay’s wife. I’m Tommy’s live-in partner, too, but there’s a reason I’ve never been able to take my wedding band off. So what if Clay’s death means that the ‘til death’ part of our vows had been met? He’s still my husband, and I’m not sure I’m ready to have another one.

I’m not sure I’lleverbe ready to.

Tommy knows that. I made it clear when we first got together after he let me cry on his shoulders for three years that, if he wanted to be more than friends, he had to accept that there were limits to what I could give him. He promised he did.

Did he change his mind? Or does he mean it? That this is our way to reclaim Halo Island?

I promised myself I would never go back.

But I love Tommy Gillis, and if he really wants me to join him for the weekend on a secluded island with people I can’t stand most of the time, I’ll do it.

For him.

After everything he’s done for me, he deserves me putting in a little effort.

FOUR

COTTONWOOD HARBOR

Halo Island might have gotten a glow-up since the last time I was there, but Cottonwood Harbor is just as rickety as I remember.

My hand tightens on the handle of my rolling suitcase. I have a backpack on, too, because I couldn’t fit all of my toiletries into my luggage. Tommy has his own duffel bag, smaller than my backpack, that he assures me has enough clothes to last him from today until Monday. It’s slung over his dark blue hoodie, while he pulls the oversized cooler behind him.

It’s stuffed full of food. Without anywhere to grab a bite on the island, or even a small shop to pick up groceries, each of us going on the trip decided we’d bring as much as we thought we’d need and then we’d share. Tommy might not have packed more than three pairs of underwear—unlike my seven because, well, you never know—but he’s made sure we won’t starve during our getaway.

I eye the narrow platform that’s built about ten feet past the ocean’s shoreline. It’s been standing for as long as Gullhaven’s been a town. I know it’s carried thousands of people to and from the boats and ferries parked along the edge, but somethingabout the way it’screakingin the late October breeze coming off the Pacific has me hoping the cooler isn’ttooheavy.

The saltwater-crusted harbor isn’t the only thing that looks like it’s seen better days. The ferry that’s waiting for us along the front of the harbor is the same exact one that brought half the senior class of GHS to the island, including me and my mom. The paint along the side—claiming the small ferry asMulligans’ Mariner—is faded and peeled. I see visible dents toward the front of the boat. The bow? Stern? I don’t fucking know, and I really don’t trust that dinghy to take us the fifteen miles out to the island.

But I have no choice. I agreed to this, and there’s only one way to get there: that boat.

Tommy told me that the new owners of Halo Island made an agreement with old man Mulligan, one of the OG ferry operators who work out of Cottonwood Harbor. No other boats are allowed to dock on Halo Island due to the exclusivity nature of the agreement, and Mr. Mulligan will take as many trips out to the island and back as necessary during our booked week.

That doesn’t mean we can head to the mainland whenever we want. The trips must be scheduled with the ferryman ahead of time. That’s how I know that Violet and Chase chose to take a later ride after they were done with work while the rest of us chose the afternoon slot.

It’s quarter to two now. I see a heavily highlighted head of dark hair already stalking around the edge of the ferry like she owns the fucking thing. Behind her, a tall, willowy woman with wavy sandy-colored hair hovers right there.

Looks like Summer and Madison already beat us to the harbor. I don’t see anyone else, though. Where’s Tyler? Or Aaron? Aaron’s usually late, and we’re a little early for our two o’clock departure. But what about Summer’s husband? Unless he’s on the other side of the ferry or something with Aaron?—

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