Page 38 of Anyone But You
I could feel Nala’s pain, but the hygiene situation on the island hadn’t been the greatest. We ran out of the soap we recovered from the jet a few days ago. We’d been careless with the soap initially and went from using it on our entire bodies to washing only the “important parts” with our dwindling supply. We were always sweaty, sticky, covered in bug bites and sand — and often compared our underarm body odor to see who had the most pungent “onion burger” smell, as Knox graciously coined it. I rolled my eyes when I thought about how extra he was when he would smell my armpits. He’d start choking and hacking, and once, he even rolled onto his back and imitated having a seizure. I didn’t even bother punching him in the gut because we both knew it was his ass stinking up our condo with the million-dollar view. Maybe smelling each other and laughing at our musk was weird, but it was our way of coping and laughing at a situation we didn’t have the power to change. It was our way of saying, “It’s okay. I understand.” But at some point, I had to get out of my head and acknowledge that we were two stankin’ ass motherfuckers who needed to fuck. The body odor and sweat weren’t going anywhere, and neither were our libidos.
* * *
Some time passed before Knox returned to shore. My concern grew when he nearly collapsed into the water while exiting theraft. I rushed towards him with a water bottle and abruptly stopped when I saw what was in the life raft.
“Oh, my God, Knox,” I whispered as I slowly approached.
“I promised you… I’d bring you back something nice,” he said between tired breaths.
“Where did you find it?”
“A reef about a mile past the wreckage. It took me a while to swim down and get it because of the sharks in the area.”
“Sharks… there were sharks?”
We’ve never had issues with sharks before.
“They weren’t huge, but I managed to get you a three-footer,” he said, proudly holding the shark up. I smiled and put my fingers up, mimicking taking a photo of him with his deadliest catch. At the moment, I didn’t know what made me happier, the Blacktip reef shark Knox bagged or my fully intact suitcase. All I knew was that it was on and popping.
Knox
I’d barely gained my land legs again when Victoria threw herself on me. The momentum knocked me off my feet and we collided onto the ground. I hardly registered the seashell digging into my lower back because her lips were just that fucking hypnotic. I thought the greatest thrill was hearing Victoria tell me to go to Hell with gassy drawers on, but being on the receiving end of her tender affection topped the fucking cake.
I’ll gladly swim in shark-infested oceans every day if this is the result.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she whispered against my lips.
“No—fuck! What was that for?” I exclaimed, holding my cheek.
“Swimming with sharks, really, Knox Abraham Ramsey?”
“That’s not my middle name,” I said, sighing and rubbing the pain away from the slap.
Thank God she’s weak and malnourished. I would hate to see the damage if she were operating at full strength.
“My belongings weren’t that important to risk your life!”
“Bringing you the slightest comfort of home was worth the risk.”
The heated glare on her face slowly melted away. “Losing you is not worth the risk,” she said softly.
“I understand,” I replied. “Who else will carry the water from the waterfall?”
She rolled her eyes and climbed off me.
Okay, maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut because I obviously ruined the moment.
I pulled myself to my feet and watched her wrestle her suitcase out of the raft with glee as if she had found a chest of sunken treasure. I secured the raft and beamed proudly at the shark. Catching the shark was my greatest accomplishment. Fuck the money, the mergers and acquisitions, and all the material bullshit; nothing could compare to spearing a shark with a bamboo stick and bringing it back home to the missus.
“Knooooooox,” Victoria called sweetly, catching my attention. “Look what I got!” she exclaimed, holding a bag full of snacks in the air. My mouth watered with excitement when I noticed the Three Musketeers in the plastic zip bag among the other goodies. But then a thought came to me.
“Why did you pack so many snacks in your luggage?” I questioned.
“I don’t know. I just had this feeling, you know? Like this feeling that my plane would end up crashing and I’d be stranded on a remote island with my psychotic boss slash island husband, and I needed to be prepared,” she said mockingly.
“Island husband, huh? I think I missed that memo.”
“Along with the HR-mandated trainings. Why are you bleeding?” she asked suddenly, pointing at my leg.
