Second Chance on Honeymoon Island

01

For our graduation trip, the three of us planned to island-hop out to Honeymoon Island.

But only I made it onto the island.

My boyfriend, Sebastian Vance, texted me. He said Katherine Dickerson was having an allergic reaction to mosquito bites.

He told me to wait on the island a little while, that the two of them would come over soon.

But I waited until the last ferry back had left, and still there was no sign of either of them.

I was stuck in the dock waiting area, feeding poisonous mosquitoes all night long.

It wasn't until dawn that I caught a boat back to Maui.

A message popped up on my phone. It was Sebastian, blaming me.

"You're still on the island? You're a grown woman. How can you not have a single ounce of flexibility?"

Sitting on the speedboat back, I rubbed my eyes, already swollen shut, the backs of my hands covered in red, angry welts.

Not far off, in the morning light, a dolphin's dorsal fin sliced across the surface of the sea.

I was tired.

This script, where I waited forever for a promise that never came true, I didn't want to play it anymore.

……

By the time I got back to the hotel, it was almost ten in the morning.

My clothes, blown by sea wind all night, clung to me damp and cold.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking, but I still managed to hold the key card stiffly and swipe the door open.

Katherine's laughter drifted out from inside.

"Sebastian, does this one make me look fat?"

She was curled up on the couch, wearing Sebastian's jacket, holding her phone up high in front of his face.

Sebastian leaned in close, one arm draped over the back of the couch, looking down at her with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

I knew that jacket.

Before we left, worried the island would get cold at night, I'd tucked it into his suitcase myself.

He'd said I was making a fuss over nothing.

But now it was draped over Katherine, the cuffs hanging down like a pair of soft hands, shielding her from every gust of wind.

I stood in the doorway.

The sand in my sandals dug into me, grinding at the soles of my feet until they ached.

Katherine saw me first, her eyes lighting up at once.

"Selma Henson, you're back."

She waved at me, her voice light and breezy.

"Come help me pick a photo. Sebastian's terrible at taking pictures. No wonder he never posts any of you on his feed."

Then, as if realizing that hadn't come out quite right, she quickly stuck out her tongue.

Sebastian looked up at me, the same seriousness as always in his eyes.

"Why are you only getting back now?"

My throat felt like it was stuffed with a sponge soaked full of seawater. I wanted to say something, but it got stuck.

"Why didn't you think to call me yesterday?"

My hand tightened around the strap of my luggage.

"You said you'd be quick."

"You still should've been flexible."

"The last boat left, and you couldn't ask a local? Couldn't figure out how to stay on the island? A grown woman, and you had to just wait like an idiot until dawn."

Katherine spoke up softly beside him.

"Sebastian, stop it."

She said stop, but her eyes went to the backs of my hands.

The red welts crowded across my skin, some of them scratched open from last night, oozing faint traces of blood.

Sebastian saw them too.

He paused, then came over and gripped my wrist.

I thought he was going to ask if it hurt.

But he laughed.

"Bitten up this bad? You really are hopeless. Couldn't you have moved out of the way?"

There was that familiar, affectionate disdain in his voice.

The same as so many times before.

He said I was stubborn to a fault.

Said my brain didn't know how to turn a corner.

Said I was lucky he was the only one who could put up with me.

I used to think that was him favoring me.

Only now do I see that favoritism is sometimes just a rope.

He'd loop it around my neck and pull, just a little, and I'd start to wonder whether I was the one in the wrong.

Katherine picked up a small tin box from the table.