Page 46 of Leave Before I Love You
Because the truth is, I don’t like being wrong, and I don’t like the idea of Henry being sad, as much as I hate to admit it.
He’s never done anything dishonest or unjust to me, the stupid fucker. In fact, I don’t know that he’s ever done anything wrong to anyone, really.
“He’s handling it okay,” Beau updates, but there’s a tightness to his voice, like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as us. “We just figured we’d get him away for a couple days before all the treatments start. It’s just him and his dad, you know? And yeah, we’ll help all we can, but…”
He winces, scrubbing his hand over his jaw, and I fight the sudden urge to pick up and run out of the house screaming, even with the baby in my arms.
Some people get such an unfair shake at things, and from everything I know, Henry is one of them. I don’t know the full story of his mom. Just that it’s been him and his dad for as long as I can remember.
And now, the one person who has always been there for him is slipping away.
I try to shake off the sadness that threatens to clog my throatagain. My gaze drops back to Addy, my fingers tracing soft circles over the warm, delicate skin of her cheek.
Henry’s stuff probably isn’t any of my business anyway.
I mean, he’s just…a guy I’ve kissed twice.
Just my brother’s best friend.
And that’ll probably never change.
Right?
Henry
Miami stands tall in the background as the helicopter lowers slowly toward the ground at the Coast Guard station right on the south end of Miami Beach, the air heavy with the scent of seawater and jet fuel. The reflective glow of skyscrapers and glass windows is almost as strong as the water of our cove, and if I close my eyes, I can practically hear the waves lapping up on our beach in the background.
Two hours ago, we were cuddled in each other, a restless sleep driven by the unknown. Now, we’re back, right in the middle of the action, as if life didn’t pause at all.
Avery’s hand clutches mine tightly as Beau, Ronnie, and Mav all look out the window to the waiting crowd full of reporters, family, and friends, and my heart takes off at a gallop.
Fuck, it feels strange to see civilization after thirteen days of nothing but ocean and sand…and Avery.
The sound of the blades winding down is a pulsing timer toward chaos as we make contact with the ground and the whine of the engine quiets to a dull roar. Ronnie wastes no time sliding open the door at the side of the helicopter and climbs down first, and then the coastguardsmen follow suit. I doubt they ever have their passengers opening their doors and climbing down out of their shit without permission, but Ronnie wouldn’t be Ronnie if he were worriedabout following the rules. He stands his ground even as they try to usher him out of the way so they can do their jobs, taking up a position at the side of the door and holding up a hand to help the rest of us jump out.
Mav goes next, moving to the edge and launching himself down, but Beau turns back to us, waving a hand for Avery to go before him. She looks to me, her eyes wide and scared and confused, so I give her the nod of encouragement she needs and follow it up with a smile.
“Go ahead, Ave.” My voice is soft and ragged with weariness. “Your family is all waiting to see you.”
She nods and scoots forward, her grip on my hand just as tight as mine on hers, and I smile when she looks back once more.
It’s okay.
Beau ushers her forward when she gets within reach, grabbing her free arm and pulling her to the edge to hand her off to a waiting Ronnie. Her outstretched arm behind her still holds tight to me, but there comes a point of impossibility, and in one smooth motion, our grip is ripped apart.
Time speeds up and slows down all at once as Avery is ushered out of the helicopter and across the tarmac, and I scoot to the edge, where Beau and Ronnie help me down all the same.
I’m not normally one to need help with anything physical, but my body is very obviously weakened from the malnourishment and dehydration, and I don’t fight their hold on my hands.
Avery tries to wait for me, but overwhelmed as we are with people, it’s an impossibility. We aren’t the only two people in the world anymore.
Not even fucking close.
My body is stiff from exhaustion, my mind still spinning from the whirlwind of survival. But the ache in my chest isn’t from dehydration or hunger—it’s from the sight of Avery disappearing into the crowd without me.
Cameras flash and voices call out, frantic and eager for aglimpse of the “island survivors.” Several journalists shout questions in my direction, and my stomach twists. I don’t know what I expected to happen once we were safely rescued, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. We’re not celebrities or rock stars or billionaires—we’re just a couple of people who got lost in the fold of the universe for a brief moment in time.
Normally, I’m not opposed to having a moment in the spotlight, but normal is on the bottom of the ocean in a banana-colored plane.
