Tessa bit her lip and didn’t answer right away.
“I don’t know,” she whispered finally, voice barely audible.
Marin nodded slowly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to be.”
Tessa looked down at her lap. Her fingers were toying with the delicate shell necklaces around her neck—the ones Russ had given her. The last little part of him she still had left.
“You have to do what you have to do,” Marin said softly. “And so does Russ.”
Tessa blinked quickly, trying to focus on something—anything—but the hollow space behind her ribs.
Her phone was neatly tucked into the pocket in front of her seat.
Suddenly, she remembered.
“Oh,” she said quietly, unlocking her phone. “I forgot to send him the picture.”
She pulled up the photo from the Polynesian dinner—the one where they’d been sitting on those ridiculous heart-shaped chairs, smiling like kids. The one where he’d swooped in and saved her. She hesitated.
They were broken up now. Officially.
Was it okay to send him one last text?
Hope it’s okay to send you this. I just really love this one. Wanted you to have it.
She stared at the screen.
The three little dots that meant he was texting back appeared.
Thanks, it said.I’ll treasure it.You look so beautiful in that picture.
Then a photo came through—the one of her on the treehouse ladder, smiling down at him, sunlit and carefree.
Forgot to send you this one.
Then another photo followed. A selfie of them from just hours ago, sitting up on the bridge, her cheek pressed against his shoulder while the others napped below. Then the message:
Miss you already.He’d attached three heart emojis to the end.
Tessa’s breath caught.
It felt wrong. All of it. Why did something so right have to end so abruptly? Six or seven or eight months would’ve been nothing—even nine or twelve. She could’ve waited. As long as it took.
She could’ve done long-distance. Phone calls. Texting. Video calls.
But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. She sighed.
The flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has alerted us it’s time to turn off all of your devices or switch your phones over to airplane mode.” The attendant went onabout seatbelts and oxygen masks and the closest emergency exits.
Tessa lingered on the message a second longer, fingers hovering. Then she flipped the switch.
It was done. Goodbye, Russell Callen. Forever.
She stared out the window as the last of the announcements came, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Marin took her hand without a word, anchoring her as the engines rumbled to life, clutching Kyle in her other hand.
The wheels lifted. The plane rose.
Tessa watched the green edges of the island and the multi-colored blues of the ocean fade into the golden sunset beneath the clouds. Her fingers still curled around the shell necklaces at her throat.