Page 92 of That Island Feeling

I used to really like Mitch, so their split did feel like it came out of left field. That’s why the girls and I had speculated that he’d cheated and maybe Taylor was too proud to admit it – but this feels much, much worse.

‘He says that he can live without kids – that if it’s just us for the rest of our lives, then he’s fine with it.’

‘Oh, that’s just wonderful! After putting you through hell and back, now he’s decided that he’s made peace with not carrying on his lineage. What if he backflips again?’ Her body flinches and I draw back to look at her. I can tell from the pain streaked across her face that I’ve hit a nerve.

I soften.

‘Taylor, I obviously don’t know the full extent of your situation,’ I start, taking her hands in mine. ‘I just know that there’s lots of ways to be a mother. And even if you don’t choose that, or it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t devalue who you are. You are no less important. I hate that Mitch has made you feel that way.’

‘He hasn’t,’ she says quietly.

‘Okay, good.’ I breathe a small sigh of relief. ‘Because you are worth a million Mitches, Tay.’

‘It’s a bit more complicated than I’m probably explaining. I’m still processing everything. I’m not sure how to feel. He’s put so much effort into trying to win me back, but it’s also really overwhelming.’

It suddenly hits me that the rose petals Jack and I scattered, and the towel swan hostages that I oddly feel ownership over, were likely meant for Mitch and Taylor.

I smooth out my expression. Right now, my priority is being the best friend I can be. ‘You don’t need to know how you feel yet, Tay. Give it time, and you’ll figure out what’s right for you.’

Chapter Forty-one

JACK

‘Are you searching for pearls or your birthday cake?’ Andie’s voice echoes across the water, her head bobbing on the surface. Her neck is strained as she tries to keep her hair dry. She’s about to be severely disappointed by what I have planned, but I want full poodle.

I’ve asked her to meet me out on the floating pontoon. Instead of sending a text, I showed up at Moorings’ front door. That way she couldn’t leave me on ‘read’. I don’t know if it was a touch of cold feet, or just concern about her dad, but even when we went to bed with our bacon-and-egg sandwiches last night, it felt like a part of her was miles away.

Moorings was quiet as I approached. A sleepy-looking Andie in an oversized tee and no pants answered the door. She looked self-conscious at first, so I was relieved when she accepted my invitation, promising me she’d change and see me out at the swim platform.

‘Both. I’m not one to give up easily,’ I say with a grin, pushing my goggles up onto my head. ‘Give me another couple of decades and I’ll find that cake.’

Andie reaches the pontoon and gracefully climbs up onto the platform. ‘You know, this is the first time I’ve made it out here.’

‘Really?’

I’m surprised – it’s right out front of Moorings. I follow her lead, pulling myself up beside her. I’m glad she seems happy to be here. Had this evening been ours alone, I would have organised one of her cherished movie nights: buttery popcorn popped on the hob and packed into Clara’s picnic basket, a secluded cove as our cinema, and a flat rock transformed into our screen to fulfill her dream of an outdoor movie screening.

But I could tell she didn’t want to miss my mother’s documentary debut, so I’m hoping that our time together now, along with my surprise later, will show her how much I’ve grown to care for her.

‘Wait, what are we doing?’ Andie asks, eyeing the flippers and snorkel gear resting on the platform.

‘This pontoon happens to be right above the best coral shelf in the river. I thought you might enjoy exploring the same reef your dad possibly did and meeting some of the local critters.’

Raw emotion fills her eyes and her features soften. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers.

‘You’re welcome,’ I whisper back, even though we’re in the middle of the river and free to be as loud as we like.

We’ve known each other for less than a week, but I already know I won’t be able to stop caring about her when she leaves the island tomorrow.

‘So, we’re actually seeking an up-close Woof encounter?’ she quips, her emotion melting into a playful spark.

‘If you’re game?’ I ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

‘Of course.’

As we hold each other’s gaze, I can’t help but read into it. Is she also game enough to see if we can make a go of us?

With our masks and fins on, we hold hands and step off the platform, plunging into the deep blue. The water is teeming with tiny bright fish, but thankfully no jellies. I keep a close eye on Andie as she ventures off in different directions, each time pushing a little further from me. I dream of being this adventurous with her in her everyday life. I’d be content to stay in her wake, paddling at a safe distance behind her, cocooned in a sparkling curtain of her bubbles. Occasionally, she lets out a high-pitched squeal as she points out a specific splotch of coral, but for the most part she’s lost in her own enchanted realm. I hope that she’s able to escape from thoughts of her world back home for a while. There’s nothing quite like the reset salt water provides. The email I sent earlier, and the decision I’ve made about my future on Pearl Island barely cross my mind.

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