Page 23 of Leave Before I Love You
Guilt swirls in my mind and runs down the line of my spine. I want to see if the ridgetop has a signal, but I don’t want to overinflate the amount of hope inside Avery, and the thought of waking her up while she’s resting so peacefully doesn’t feel good either.
The fact is, this whole thing is a long shot and a half, and a fuck of a workout just to give it a try. The heat of the day is going to build to unbearable levels soon, and if I don’t make the climb now, it’s going to be ten times worse than getting ass-fucked by a porcupine.
Avery doesn’t move or shift at all, and her breathing is even as I check carefully for signs of stirring. She’s out cold. I bet if I go now, I can probably be back before she even wakes up or, worst-case, not long after. And fuck, I hate to even think it, but maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see her pretty face light up when I surprise her with good news.
Decided, I grab our poker stick to use as an extra support in rough terrain and take off for the center of the island. The ridge base is only half a mile or so in, so the hike to get there takes no time at all. The ascent, however, is another story and proves much more difficult than I thought it would be. Without climbing gear, the quickest, shortest route is way too dangerous, the risk of injury too high. Knowing what’s at stake, I opt for the longer, safer way instead.
If I broke a leg or injured myself beyond capability, I have no doubt Avery would rise to the occasion, but fuck, it sure would make things a hell of a lot harder and would drive me to the point of insanity. I’ve always felt a strong need to provide and protect, and taking a risk that would fuck that up is irresponsible.
I pay excruciating attention to detail on every step on my route, being mindful not to roll my fucking ankle or proceed farther unless the footing is sure. It takes a little over an hour to get to the top, but when I turn on Avery’s phone and it works, my whole body tingles with the possibility that this trip might be worth it.
As I wait for the damn thing to find a signal, my eyes drift down to the beach, scanning the shoreline that has become our home for the past four days. That’s when I see it—the massiveSOSI carved into the sand with driftwood and palm fronds on the first day here.
The letters are still clear, still untouched by the tide, standing as a desperate message to anyone who might be flying overhead.
I remember the way Avery had just sat there, knees drawn to her chest, staring out at the horizon in stunned silence while I worked on it. She hadn’t said a word, barely even blinked, still stuck in the kind of shock I’d never seen on her before. For as much as Avery likes to act like she doesn’t take anything seriously, that first day proved otherwise. She was scared. Hell, we both were.
And looking at it now, I feel the weight of just how much we’ve adapted.
That panic from day one has settled into something else—survival. A rhythm. A routine. It’s the kind of thing that should scare the hell out of me, but instead, I just feel frustrated that we still haven’t been found.
I watch and wait with bated breath as the phone searches for service, but when the signal indicator is still doing the same dance a full minute later, my chest deflates in one fell swoop.
“Fuck,” I mutter, holding it in the air and moving from one side of the ridge to the other in a weaving line. I try different angles and positions, but at the end of another ten minutes, the stupid thing is still searching for a signal.
Movements manic, all the hope leaves my body in a rush of adrenaline.
Nothing. There’s fuckingnothingwe can do to help ourselves get found.
My chest feels tight, my emotions almost too heavy to hold.
“Fuck!” I say again, but this time, it’s a ragged yell of raw frustration that shakes my whole chest and sends several birds flying for cover.
I clutch the phone in my grip and smash at the screen with myother hand, but when none of the blinding pressure of lost hope leaves my temples, I rear back and launch the fucking thing like I’m throwing a game-ending Hail Mary pass.
It rolls and spins and flashes in the now-risen sun, and I scream at the top of my lungs like a man deranged. It was a pipe dream and a fucking stupid hope, but I carelessly let myself get attached to the idea of it working, and the reality of it not stings like a son of a bitch.
My chest heaves and my heart races as I blink into the sun and wipe the growing sweat off my forehead with an agitated hand. I look out at the perfect blue ocean and spin around, taking in the full circumference of nothingness around us and wonder if there’s anyone out there even remotely close looking for us.
I scan the horizon for boats and see nothing but endless ocean and the gentle spark of the reflecting sun. Nature, in all its unmarred beauty. It should be awe-inspiring, but all it’s prompting in me right now is excruciating pain.
“I have to let go of the future,” I say softly to myself, knowing from experience that wishing for something that’ll never be only makes things worse. It never brought my mom back from her mental break, and it sure as hell hasn’t resurrected my dad after the cancer killed him. “I have to focus on the here and now. I have to focus on helping myself and Avery survive.”
It’s resolute and reasonable and, thankfully, enough to calm me down again. Avery’s phone is good and gone forever, something I know she won’t like, but when we make it back home, I’ll buy her another.
She can’t call or text June. She can’t check in with her mom. She can’t call her dad and beg him to get us out of this. It’s her and me and the here and now.
For the time being, all that stupid phone was doing was taunting us.
I take a final deep breath and prepare to make the trek back down.
Avery’ll be looking for me, and being there for her is one of the only things I can control.
She’smy priority.
And I’m going to make damn sure I do everything I can to protect her, keep her safe,keep her alive.
Wet from the heat and exertion, I emerge from the underbrush just behind the beach we’ve been inhabiting a little over an hour later. The heat is really working today, so I’m not surprised to see the fire unstoked. Not to mention, I took the poker with me as a walking cane, so I don’t know what I would have expected her to use instead.
