Page 12 of Leave Before I Love You
It’s not a rescue boat or a trip to a five-star resort while wearing Valentino, but I have to admit, having two shoes is, at the very least, a start.
Still…my God, how the mighty have fallen.
Henry
Avery sits on the beach but in the shade of a palm frond, her normally supple, even-toned skin taking on a reddening aesthetic as she fans herself with a hand.
I’m lucky enough to have the kind of complexion that takes a flamethrower to really burn, and so far, I’ve done nothing but darken even further, but Avery’s already fighting for her life.
Even living in Miami, our day-to-day lives are spent in and out of buildings. All this sun exposure is completely outside of our normal routine, and the two of us will have to be careful not to get sun poisoning without any hope of getting treatment.
Her normally silky, dark hair is frizzy, and her precious shoes are covered in both dirt and debris from our short trek around the island earlier, but she’s in much better spirits than yesterday and, frankly, I’m impressed.
This kind of adversity would be too much for anyone, let alone a woman who’s spent her literal entire life being catered to. Food, clothes, time, energy—all of it has been at her disposal and whim from the day she was born until yesterday morning.
All thanks to my father’s lucrative career in hedge funds, I may be rich and come from money, but everything I have now—every dollar in my bank account, every asset in my name—is because of the company I built on my own back,Adrenaline Junkie.My momleft my dad and me when I was a kid, and a few months ago, my dad left too—though it wasn’t exactly his choice.Fuck cancer very much. For me, this? Being stranded? It’s just another chink in the chain in a lifetime of less-than-ideal scenarios.
“Henry, I hope you know you’re literally morphing into Tom Hanks before my eyes.”
I scoff, sharpening the stick I procured to use for spearfishing while we were out exploring. “Really. Morphing before your eyes, huh?”
“Yep.” Avery nods, her face steady. “I expect a full monologue about your beloved volleyball Wilson before bedtime.”
“You’ll have to find one first. I, unfortunately, didn’t have the foresight to go down on a plane full of FedEx packages.”
“I’ll get started now.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Or—wild idea—you could come help me catch us some dinner instead.”
“Yeah, no.” She grimaces, her lip curling as she stretches her hands out in front of herself and laces her fingers together, pushing her palms out. “I don’t really like fish.”
My laughter rings out in the quiet around us like a gunshot. “Yes, you do. Are you forgetting that I’ve known you nearly all your life, Avery? You ate fish at Christmas, like, a week ago.”
“That was salmon dip,” she explains, holding her hands out to her sides. “Not some wild-caught island squidward thing! I eat fish, but I only eatfish.” The final word drips with snobbery, and once again, I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh my God. The level of delusion is off the charts.” I smirk and mimic her tone. “We have fish. Plain and simple. So, you can either eat it, or you can go hungry.”
She scowls, a stubborn streak kicking in. “I’ll go hungry, then. I’ve been meaning to start a diet anyway.”
I want to tell her to fucking starve, then—I mean,fuck, she’s a pain in the ass. But the part of me that knows how different this is from her real life forces me to gentle parent her instead.
“Avery, come on. You have to eat. Both of us staying strong and healthy is our best chance at making it long enough for people to find us.”
She makes a mocking face, mouthing my words like a chipmunk, and just like that, all my patience is gone. There’s no way we’re going to survive this shit if I have to fight her every step of the way.
“Are you a child? What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout, the strain making my neck feel tight. She raises an eyebrow in challenge, so I push it, leaning toward her and raising my voice even more.
“I mean, fuck, Avery. I know you’re sheltered, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize we’re just a couple weeks away from starving to death,” I rail, frustration getting the better of me to the point of being mean.
Her face crumples and she shoves to her feet, and immediately, I regret losing my cool. Gone is the headstrong woman I know, and in her place is someone who’s scared out of her mind and barely hanging on. Her whole body shakes as she tries to contain herself, but when it’s too much, she spins in the sand and takes off.
No volleying insults, no smart retort. Because of me, all the progress she’s made toward keeping it together is gone.
“I’m sorry,” I call out as she runs toward the shelter, her cries audible even from my spot near the water. “Avery, I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t turn around and she doesn’t look back, and tired from the emotional toll of it all, I don’t go after her. I know I should, but I just…can’t. Neither of us signed up for this, and despite it being only our second day on the island, it feels like a lifetime.
Instead, I work on the things I can control, like finishing my fishing spear and trying for two solid hours to come up with a single fucking fish.
