Page 66 of Meet Me in Tahiti

Tessa sighed as the tension she’d been holding all evening finally released, just a little. She looked up at her best friend.

“So much happened,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat. “And then it all sort of… imploded.”

“Oh, no.” Marin eased down beside her, waiting.

So Tessa told her—not everything, not in detail, but enough, and from the beginning. That Russ had been strong and kind this week and everything she hadn’t expected to find on a charter boat in the South Pacific. That they’d tried to keep it quiet and respectful because his job was at stake, and it hadn’t been enough.

“Another captain from his company saw us,” Tessa said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “We were just kissing in the trees, but he figured things out pretty quickly.”

Marin’s eyes widened, but she didn’t interrupt.

Tessa kept going. “Russell said he’s going to own it. He said it’s not my fault. But it is. I never should’ve asked him to meet me out there. If I hadn’t—if I’d just kept my mouth shut and let it be—he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“You didn’t make him fall for you, Tess,” Marin said gently. “And you didn’t make him kiss you back.”

“I know,” she said. “But I still feel like I broke something that mattered to him—something really, really important. And now I can’t fix it. I can’t do anything to help.”

She blinked hard, trying not to cry again. Marin rubbed her back and let her go on.

“Also, we’d been talking about meeting up in Miami,” she added after a breath. “He was applying towork there. Near us, near me, so we could continue what we started here.”

Marin’s eyes widened.

Tessa shook her head. “But… he didn’t get the job. And now he’s decided it’s over.”

“Oh, my gosh, girl. Those are two morehugethings.” Marin’s expression changed, softening into empathy.

Tessa looked down at her hands, her throat closing up. “He says he can’t do it. That it’ll only get harder the longer we drag it out. So it’s better to end it now. Tomorrow. When the plane leaves the ground.”

Marin placed a hand gently across Tessa’s hands, her lip almost trembling, like Tessa’s was. “Oh, Tess’…”

“He doesn’t trust me to wait for him. But I would. I would wait. For as long as it took.”

“I know you would, girl,” Marin whispered, wrapping her arms around her in a hug. “I know you would.”

Tessa leaned into her, closing her eyes as the tears came fast. A few moments passed.

“I just don’t want to talk about it with anyone else,” Tessa murmured. “Not yet. Please don’t say anything to the girls. Or to Kyle. Just… give me time. Let me do this on my own.”

Marin nodded, then pulled back and held up her pinky. “I will. Pinky swear.”

Tessa smiled—just barely—and linked hers with it. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

They sat in silence, the hum of the boat anchored in the cove the only sound between them.

Outside, distant laughter rose from the beach again. But inside, all Tessa could feel was the ache of something real, slipping through her fingers too soon.

The catamaran was finally quiet.

No late-night laughter drifted from the main deck, no clinking glasses or the splash of a midnight swim, thank goodness. Just the steady lapping of water against the hull and the distant rustle of wind in the palms onshore. Russell sat alone at the tiny built-in desk in his cabin, laptop open, the soft blue glow casting shadows across his face.

He hadn’t come this far, all these years rebuilding a life after Mia, to throw it all away over several poor judgment calls. He’d listened to his heart this week, not his mind. And he was paying the price. Now, there was only one thing to do.

He stared at the cursor, blinking at the top of the email draft. For once, words didn’t come easily.

He exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, then finally typed the subject line:Regarding Professional Conduct on Current Charter.

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