Page 87 of His Loving Wife

His voice trails off. We can all figure how he would have finished the sentence. Vincent is gone, taking with him our only chance of getting the boat back to shore.

“What can we do?”

“The storm is getting bad. Without the engine, the boat will continue to drift out to sea.”

“Can we wait it out?”

“This boat isn’t designed for a storm like this. It’s too dangerous. Our best bet is to get back to shore.” I’m relieved to know he’s continuing to help us, that he’s no longer willing to complete whatever plan he had, but I’m still cautious.

“What about the radio?” Willow asks.

“It’s disconnected,” he says. I don’t bother to ask how, whether the connection was cut intentionally. I shudder to think he never intended for any of us to leave this boat. “We’re only about a mile off. The best bet would be getting in the life raft. You can paddle your way back to shore before the tide gets stronger.”

“Put these on,” I say to the children, handing them life jackets. I put on my own just as Andrew pulls the string of the lifeboat. The orange material inflates, appearing like no more than an inner tube against the angry sea.

“No way,” I say, stepping away from the edge. “We can’t get in that thing in the middle of the storm.”

“It’s made for situations like this,” Andrew says. “It’s sturdier than it appears.”

He lowers it into the water, and I watch as the flimsy material rocks and shakes with the currents underneath. My breathing stalls. My mind wrestles with the dangers of the water. Before, I’d jumped into the ocean without hesitation. It was either that or watch my son drown. Now… I can’t willingly step onto the raft.

“I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice, Kate. It’s only a matter of time before this boat is overturned. You can’t steer it in any direction.” He’s more than concerned, he’s frightened. For our safety. “On the raft, you might have a chance of making it back to shore.”

Might. A terrifying word. Willow and Noah stare up at me, bundled into their life jackets. They’re following my lead. I don’t think either one of them feels they can trust what their father says, and it saddens me.

Andrew lowers the boat’s ladder into the water so it’s only a small step to the raft.

“You have to go. Now.”

“We can do this, Mom,” Willow says. “We’re together.”

I take a deep breath, lowering myself into the raft. The bottom is sturdier than I’d imagined, but it’s still too flimsy to stand. I balance on my knees, holding out my hands to help the children onboard. First Noah, then Willow.

“Hurry,” I shout back to Andrew.

He takes a step away from the edge. Only then do I realize he’s not wearing his life jacket.

“I love you all very much,” he says. “I’m sorry for everything.”

He tugs at the ladder.

“Andrew, what are you doing? Get in the raft with us. You can’t stay out here.”

“You have a better chance of making it to shore without the extra weight.”

Even though he brought us here, even though I know what he intended to do to us, my insides ache at the idea of leaving him behind. I reach back toward the boat, but it’s pointless. Already the currents are pulling us away. A large wave crashes against the side, splashing my face. I wipe away the water, ignoring the sting in my eyes, and look back.

“Come with us!” I shout. He’s still my husband. He’s still their father. His actions in the last few minutes prove that man still exists.

“Dad, please!” Noah yells. Willow remains silent, as though she’s already accepted the inevitable. However this day ends, we’ll never be the family we once were.

“I love you all. I’m so, so sorry,” Andrew says. I’m not sure if he sits or takes another step back, all I know is he’s no longer in my line of vision.

“Andrew!” I scream with all the strength I have left.

There’s no response. All I can see is the side of the boat as it drifts out to sea.

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