“What reasons could you possibly have?” I asked.
“At Snow and Noah’s wedding, I didn’t want anybody to know who I was. I spent too much time being in the shadow of my family and then my husband.”
“Ex-husband.”
She nodded.
“No one ever saw me. Just me. I wanted to know what it was like to just be someone else. For one night, I didn’t want anybody to think about my family, my marriage, the dissolution thereof, or my money.”
“Your money?” I asked, upset just by the word itself. “Is that really what you think of me? That I would only be interested in your money?”
“It’s not you, Hunter,” Eleanor said. “I told Noah not to tell anyone who I was before I even saw you. I had no idea that I was going to meet someone as incredible as you.”
“And then when you did?” She hesitated and I scoffed, taking another step away from her. “You still lied because all you wanted was a one-night stand.”
“Yes.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?” she asked. “That’s exactly what was on my mind that night. I just wanted one night of attention from someone. Was I really supposed to think that I could find a connection with someone? Especially someone like you? Someone 15 years younger than me, no attachments, no crime boss ex hanging over his head or government agencies breathing down his neck? I was really supposed to think that you had any kind of real attraction to me and would be interested in any kind of real relationship with me?”
“You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You tried to seduce me. That’s not the same thing.”
“And you walked away, just like I would have expected.”
“I walked away because I knew exactly who you were.”
Eleanor looked stunned.
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
“I might not have known that you were Noah’s aunt, but I knew who you are. A bored woman looking for someone to make her feel good about herself. A woman who would latch onto any man who gave her attention and use him up, then move on.”
“That’s not true,” Eleanor said, sounding weaker now.
“Yes, it is. You didn’t care who I was. You didn’t care anything about me. And that’s whatever. You had your reasons, even if I think that they are completely asinine. But then what? How about when we were on the cruise? How about when we were running from those guys? You couldn’t tell me the truth?”
“While we were running through the cruise ship?” Eleanor asked incredulously. “You wanted me to pause and give you the story of my life while I was in the midst of running from it?”
“How about when we were on the island? How could you keep lying to me even then? With all of the time that we spent together, with everything that we went through together, how could you just keep lying to me like that?”
“I tried to tell you,” Eleanor said. “I tried so many times.”
“But you didn’t. You just kept adding onto the lie. Even when you knew how much danger we were actually in, you couldn’t be honest with me.”
“I’m sorry, Hunter. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if there’s anything that I can say, but—”
“There isn’t,” I said. Emotion was building in my chest and I could feel it starting to sting in the backs of my eyes. I had to get out of here. “I’m so glad that you’re alright,” I told her, letting my voice soften from the pitch that it had risen to during the conversation. “Watching you get shot was one of the worst moments of my life. Maybe the worst. But every time that I look at you, all I can think is that I could never have done that to you. I could never lie to you like that, because I care about you. And if you cared about me, you wouldn’t have been able to, either.”
I started out of the room, then turned and walked back to her side. I leaned down and touched a kiss to her cheekbone.
“Goodbye, Eleanor.”
Noah and Snow were walking back into the room as I left, but I didn’t stop to say anything to them. I needed to get back to the office, lose myself in my work, and forget.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eleanor
One month later…
“How are you feeling, Auntie?”
Noah came into my living room and settled a vase of flowers onto the small marble table beside the sofa, taking away the slightly dried bouquet that Snow had brought a few days before. I looked at them, wanting the pale yellow and white blooms to make me smile, but they didn’t. I was perched on the wide windowsill of the bay window, staring out at a morning that was finally beginning to look like fall. Usually I found a bit of almost perverse pleasure in sitting like this, knowing that it was something that Virgil never would have let me do, but I didn’t get the same feeling from it anymore. I still loved the seat and the way that it made me feel almost like I was floating out above the grounds of my house, only now I didn’t get the self-satisfaction from it. Thoughts of what Virgil would think and how he would have reacted were gone. They had faded since I left the island, as if the confrontation of me running toward him and then watching him fall into the water, knowing that everything was over for him, had allowed me to leave the final remnants of his hold on me behind.
“Just as fine as I was feeling yesterday,” I told him. “Are you staying for supper?”
He came up and kissed me on my cheek.
“Are you trying in your oh-so-subtle way to tell me that I’m coming over here too often?” he asked.
I shook my head and turned so that my legs dangled over the edge of the wide windowsill, reminding me for a brief, fleeting moment of when my legs dangled over the rocks, the waves crashing below.
“Of course, not,” I said. “You know you’re welcome here any time. You still have your room upstairs.”
After my divorce from Virgil I had moved back into the home that was gifted to me by my father before meeting him, before heading to college, when I couldn’t have imagined that I was going to be married so soon. Even after Virgil insisted that we move into a much more lavish house, I still thought of this one as my home and during the long business trips that he sometimes took, I would leave the house we shared and instead stay here, feeling surrounded by memories and comforted by the feelings of the past. This was where Noah and I spent much of our favorite times together and even when he had grown up, I never changed the bedroom that I kept for him on the top floor.
“I know, Auntie,” Noah said. “But I don’t think that my wife would appreciate me using it.”
I shrugged.
“Wives are like that.”
Noah chuckled and sat down on the arm of the sofa.
“How is your chest?”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I’m glad.” We fell silent and I could see Noah tilting his head down trying to catch my eyes. “What is it, Auntie? What are you thinking about?”
“The island,” I told him.
Noah sighed and stood, his head dropping back in exasperation as he turned away from me.
“We’ve talked about this. You’ve got to stop torturing yourself. You need to go back to the therapist.”
“It didn’t do me any good. Besides, I don’t like her.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t believe in sea monsters.”
“You don’t believe in sea monsters.”
“I believe in the possibility of sea monsters, and I think that’s enough. Besides, it’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the time that I spent there and how beautiful it was. I don’t want to think that I’m never going to go back.”
Noah nodded.
“It was beautiful. But there’s nothing there, Auntie. You can’t just go back and hang out in the shelter that you and Hunter made. No matter what he told you, that was not a geodesic dome. It didn’t have any of the little triangles it needed.”