Page 82 of The Otherworld

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Mendacium

ADAM

It rips my heart out to leave Orca. The whole flight back to Whidbey Island, I’m at war with myself. Logic and Emotion altercate in my conscience—out of the courtroom and onto the battlefield, swearing they’ll fight to the death.

Logic will win. He always does.

He’s the voice that spoke back there on the island when Mr. Monroe pulled me aside and said, “You understand that Orca has no dealings with the outside world.”

I nodded.

“Which, of course, precludes relationships with people from the outside world.” His gray eyes shifted to mine. “Including you.”

Guilt tightened in my chest. “I understand that, sir.”

I did understand. I understood days ago when Orca first explained the situation to me. I pieced together in an hour what Orca has been trying to demystify her whole life. I saw the fear on Mr. Monroe’s face when he first set eyes on me—the question he wouldn’t come out and ask: What did you do to my daughter when I wasn’t here?

If I hadn’t done anything, I’d be able to look him in the eyes. But he was right to suspect me of overstepping the mark.

I had.

I fell in love with his daughter—kissed her, touched her, literally had to force myself to walk away before I did anything more with her.

And I feel terrible about it.

I let my selfish emotions rule me, seduce me, and smother my reasoning. Yet, standing there before Mr. Monroe, I couldn’t bring myself to admit any of it. I told myself it would make matters worse for Orca and held my tongue. But now I wonder, was that the real reason? Or am I simply a coward?

Mr. Monroe is a good man. I presumed that before I even met him, but I confirmed it when he spoke with such honesty about his daughter.

“I’ve endeavored to make a comfortable life for us here,” he said. “It hasn’t been easy without Orca’s mother… but I’ve tried to make her happy. I know the kind of life we live is unusual. Strange to most. But it suits us. And I intend for it to continue.” Mr. Monroe looked off across the water to the hazy shapes of islands in the distance. “It’s not that I have something against you, son. I would just appreciate it if you would respect my wishes and not contact my daughter again.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll make no attempts to contact Orca. I don’t want to disturb her life here. Or yours.”

Mr. Monroe nodded. “Well, then. We’ll say no more about it.”

Emotion fought hard, but Logic wrestled him to the ground. I decided to make a clean break with Orca. No touching, no kissing, no tearful farewells.

I failed.

Orca cornered me in her father’s bedroom—irony of all ironies—and asked me what I’d been talking to him about. I almost told her, but decided it would only create more turbulence in the storm I’d set off, a ripple effect I wouldn’t be around to witness, but one that would weigh on my conscience like a crime.

So instead, I gave her my journal, with my letter to her inside. Because I do want her to know how I feel—but only after I’m gone. Out of reach. Unable to do more damage.

Logic made a compelling opening statement. But once Emotion took the stand, I knew I was a goner. Orca slid her beautiful hand into mine and asked me to sit on the bed. I immediately knew what she meant—that she wanted to kiss me. Logic yelled, Objection! But then her lips pressed against mine, and the judge in my heart whispered, Overruled. I kissed her back.

It was her first time initiating a kiss, and I could tell she was nervous. Her hands were trembling, warm on my shoulders. Afterward, she asked me if she had done it right. I didn’t know it was possible to fall even more in love with her, but at that moment, I did.

And now it’s over.

She’s on her island, and I’m on my way back to mine.

Worlds apart.

* * *

When we land at the port, Mom and Dad are waiting.

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