Page 78 of Beach Bodies

Then I cry again, but it’s different this time. More like I’m choosing to release something pent up rather than being attacked by something outside myself.

And then, somehow, in Daniel’s arms, I fall asleep.

*

When I wake up, I’m disoriented. The light has changed; the blade of sunlight is gone. What time is it?

‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ says Daniel, swivelling in his chair. He’s on the computer at his desk again, though this time, fully clothed. The air conditioner is humming. It’s after two o’clock.

‘Skylar,’ I say.

‘I called the hospital ten minutes ago. No updates yet.’

I exhale. I feel heavy with worry over Skylar, but also, somehow grounded.

‘I know your name isn’t Daniel Black,’ I say as I sit up, drawing the comforter around my shoulders and leaning against the bank of pillows.

Daniel doesn’t even flinch; in fact, he goes extra still.

I’m still too. My heart doesn’t pick up speed. There’s zero adrenaline in my body.

Something happened to me when I told Daniel the story of that night– the night that split my life in two.

It’s not that I’m suddenly liberated from my grief. It’s not that I’m happy or healed. No; I can still feel the familiar tight centre of pain around Jessica, who I know is in limbo still, waiting for me to save her, which I can’t do.

I don’t feel afraid any more. That’s what’s changed. This cat-and-mouse game I’ve been playing with Daniel suddenly seems silly, childish. Unnecessary. I’m ready to face what Daniel knows and what he plans to do with that information, fully confident that whatever I do next– flee, lie, kill– will be clear to me when the time comes.

I’ve made plans, and they’ve gone to shit.

Now I’m trusting my gut, and whatever happens will happen.

‘I know you’re a podcaster,’ I continue, ‘and that you’ve been investigating me.’

He shuts his laptop, then comes over to the bed. He sits on the side, one knee up, and braces himself on his arms. We don’t touch.

His gaze, as always, meets mine without hesitation. ‘I wanted to tell you at the Sunset last night.’

For a second I don’t know what he’s talking about. Then I remember his arm slung around me; his confession.I think I may have misjudged you.

‘What were you going to tell me, exactly?’

‘That I did come here to look into the pattern of deaths. There’s been one every July at the Riovan for the past four years. I did come here thinking you might be behind it. But—’ He shakes his head with a mirthless smile. ‘Yesterday, I saw you save a man’s life, and then this morning, your reaction when they loaded that kid into the ambulance, and then hearing your story about losing Jessica– it just confirmed how wrong I was about you.’ He reaches forward and I allow him to take my hand. ‘Lily, I can’t apologize for looking into you. I’m here to find the truth, and I can’t be sorry for that. But I never wanted to hurt you.’

This is the last thing I ever expected Daniel Black-Lukiewicz to say. His hand is warm, but my hand in his feels cold. I should feel relieved, like a tremendous weight has been lifted.

Instead I feel… what?

‘I understand,’ I say. ‘You’re here for truth and justice, and you did what you had to do. I can respect that.’

‘And you’re here to grieve the woman you loved,’ he says, meshing his fingers with mine, his eyes full of compassion. ‘I see that now.’

‘Yes,’ I say, surprised at this insight. I’ve never thought of what I do here as grieving, but it makes sense.

‘Here’s the thing,’ Daniel says, his voice low as his fingers twine with mine. ‘At first I got close to you because I needed to figure you out. I mean– I was attracted to you from the start, but in my head, it was strictly in service of the story. And then, somehow, along the way, I—’ His eyes on me are so intense. ‘I fell for you.’

Oh.

His words hang between us.

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