Page 30 of Until We Break

Caleb and I needed to leave. There wasn’t room for us here now. No one was forcing us out, but I felt the squeeze in the air. The replacement of Carrie and Iris. The mother’s fear and emotion were taking over every inch of this room.

“Well, I hope he recovers quickly and you’re out of here soon.” My smile was weak as we stood in the doorway.

“Wait!” Lucas’s voice was stronger than I expected.

I looked over at Lucas. His cheeks had color and his blue eyes were vibrant. His mother stepped to the side. “Hey, buddy. Glad you’re okay,” Caleb called. “Good call on the life jacket. Always keep that on.” He gave him a thumbs up.

“Can you come here?” His eyes locked on me.

I nodded and walked toward the railing of his bed. “What’s up?”

“I saw you sleeping there last night.” He pointed to the wrinkled cot. “I knew it was you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I knew you pulled me out. Thank you for swimming out to get me.” He blinked and I saw tears begin to form. I didn’t want him to cry. I had a feeling it would upset Carrie and a new cycle would begin for him.

“Of course. Yeah. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. Like Caleb said, you’re the one who put on that life jacket.” I gave him a big smile. I tussled his hair. “Take care, Lucas. Get better, okay?”

I began to back out of the room. If I didn’t get out of there quickly, I was going to lose it in front of Carrie and Iris. In front of the kid and the cheery nurse.

I turned and rushed out the door. Caleb waited for me in the hallway. He didn’t ask and I didn’t say a word but let his arms fold around me as the tears covered my cheeks.

He held me tighter. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay now. You got him through it. It’s good. He’s good.”

I nodded, but it didn’t stop the crying or the way my chest felt like it was about to cave in. My eyelashes were hot from the tears and my cheeks flushed. It took a few minutes for it to stop. For me to take a few giant gulps of air. For me to push away enough for him to know I had control again.

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast. I’m buying. No arguments.” Caleb’s arm slid around me effortlessly as he guided me out of the hospital.

Caleb opened the passenger side door for me of the truck, and I slid in. It started like it was a big tractor, roaring to life. We retraced our steps from yesterday. Yesterday felt like two weeks ago. It was odd how time moved differently inside a hospital. There was no reason to go back. No reason to wander the halls or make coffee runs.

After we dropped the truck off at his friend’s house we walked to the marina. Our fingers touched and grazed with each step. There was heat between us. More than the warmth of sleeping next to each other. The Coast Guard cutter waited for us in the slip. The fishing boats had left for the day. The only people on the docks were tourists and the kid who sold ice and tackle at the dock store.

“What about breakfast somewhere on the island?” Caleb suggested as his fingers sank into my waist and he lowered me on the deck of the boat.

I stared into his eyes, desperate for him to hold on to me a little longer. The boat rocked from our movement.

“Hold on.” He parked me on a seat and grabbed the radio.

I watched every flex of muscle. Every movement his shoulders made. His lips. Hoping. Clawing at the hope he would come back into my space. That he would say those words he did in the hospitaleverything is going to be okay now. I tried to think of a time when someone had spoken so confidently to me. When I could believe it. Trust it. Lean into the comfort that someone else knew something I didn’t.

I listened to him rattle off a list of codes and a combination of letters and numbers as Caleb told the Coast Guard base he was signing off for a few more hours. There didn’t seem to be any pushback.

“Do you have a favorite place I can take you?” he asked, while he started the engine.

I hadn’t eaten at any of the island’s restaurants. The options on the island consisted of The Flying Devil which also sold live bait, Locals, where ripped vinyl booths lined one wall and fishingrods lined the other, or we could order biscuits at the Reel Shop. There was no place to talk. No place to linger. Nowhere I could be alone with Caleb.

I twisted my lips together. “We could make breakfast.”

“What makes you think I can cook?”

“Doesn’t matter if I can.”

“Okay.” We cruised out of the marina and into the open water between the mainland and Marshoak Island.

“So back to your place?” he asked. “The Blue Heron.”

I nodded, biting my lip and keeping my eyes locked on the houses on the horizon. The wind blew my hair around. The wisps battered my cheeks, but I didn’t care. The haze of dawn had cleared and been replaced with bright beams of sun, reflecting off the waves. They shimmered and darted on the surface as quickly as the schools of fish beneath.

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