I startle at his use of my name. “She talked about me?”
He chuckles and nods. “She spoke of you a few times.”
My chest expands with warmth that quickly cools when I consider what she told him about me. Does he think I’m crazy? Some kind of hermit like the girl at the bar did?
“If I tell him he’ll feel deceived. I can’t do that. But I can leave and he’ll never have to know who I really am.”
“You actually think that’ll work? That you’ll walk away and he’ll let you go?”
I shrug. “Yes. I do. He might miss me for a day or two but some willing female will take my place.” My stomach wrenches as my words bring forth a nausea I can’t fight.
“Or . . . you tell him who you really are, explain—”
“The truth isn’t an option now. He told me a little about his nightmares, about how he was let down by someone he trusted. If he knew I lied about who I am it would only hurt him.”
“Shit . . .” He cups his head into his hands, rubbing circles on his temples. “That’s true.”
“I allowed myself to get off track with Aden and that was a mistake. All I’m here to do is pack up my sister’s stuff, get a glimpse into her world, and then leave here with everyone thinking she’s living her life to the fullest to die a happy old woman rather than being robbed of her life.” Tears spring to my eyes. “She asked me for a favor, I couldn’t say no.”
His stern expression softens with sympathy. “This was not her brightest idea.”
“Tell me about it.” I search my brain for the umpteenth time trying to figure a way out of this that doesn’t include hurting Aden and come up with nothing.
“I’d think it were harmless if my nephew’s feelings weren’t involved, but they are and I can’t sit by while you toy with him.”
“I’m not toying with him. I . . .” I care about him. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Finish what you came to do.” He pushes to stand and stares down at me. The weight of his judgment has me studying the floor. “Then leave and I promise, as fucked up as this is, I’ll keep your secret. I’ll do that for Celia and for Aden.”
“Cal—”
“But you can’t ever come back here, understand? Once you leave, you make a clean cut and let Aden move on with his life.”
His words stab me in the heart.
“Promise me, Sawyer.”
“Okay, I’ll disappear.”
“And when Celia’s . . . condition . . . finally takes her . . .” He clears his throat and I look up to find emotion shining in his eyes. “I’ll let Aden know and that’ll be the end of you two.”
I nod, unable to form words because everything he’s saying slices through my chest, but I know he’s right. Aden will mourn her loss, and it’ll be like none of this ever happened. He’ll go on with his life thinking I was nothing more than a summer fling that ended before it even got started.
A single tear slides down my cheek.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I think you’re right, his mind may be too fragile to handle the truth and this is the only way it can be.”
“Either way, I lose him forever.”
His gaze swings out to the ocean, gray clouds beginning to form on the horizon. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
“Cal, wait.” I stand and cross to him, brushing away my tears. “How did you know I wasn’t Celia?”
He smiles sadly. “I saw the fear in your eyes the second I walked on that boat. Your sister? She’s never been afraid of anything. Not even death.”
And with that, he’s gone.
I stay rooted in place as one by one tears slide down my cheeks.
He’s right. I’m a pathetic replacement for Celia. Whatever Aden feels for me isn’t actually because of who I am but rather who he thinks I am. Someone who swims naked in the ocean at night and dives off a kayak to swim with sharks, the person I’m pushing myself to be. If I were able to truly be myself, he’d lose interest in a heartbeat.
Celia and Aden make a fantastic couple, they’re cut from the same Technicolor cloth.
Sawyer and Aden don’t make any sense. He’d get frustrated with my obsessions and I’d get irritated by his casualness toward just about everything.
Whatever future I could map out for us in my head is nothing but a fantasy, and a charade I could never keep up.
I dry my tears and straighten my shoulders as I digest Cal’s words.
I have only a couple days left with Aden, so I’ll take them and make every second count.
TWENTY-ONE
ADEN
The minutes that I’m not with Celia pass at an irritating pace. I hold back from dropping all my responsibilities and not breaking the speed limit to get to the cottages. I even considered not taking a shower, which is messed up.
When in the hell did this woman manage to crawl under my skin? I forget who I am when we’re together, and as fucked as that is I feel better than I’ve felt in a really long time. I can’t even think about her without grinning. Maybe it was spending so much time together, my body got used to having her within reach. Or maybe it was the awkward way she left, chased away by Cal’s disapproving stare. Whatever it is, being without her leaves me twitchy and uneasy. I’ve spent hours in a ditch staring down the scope of my rifle and that wasn’t as maddening as the distance between us.
Which is why I’m hauling ass through the cabin of the boat, grabbing my keys and sunglasses to get to the cottages to see her. It’s only when I’m jumping from the back of the boat to the dock that I catch movement from Jenkins’s sailboat.
My good mood dissolves instantly. The old man’s only been gone four days and the vultures have already descended. Not on my watch. With light steps I creep to the boat and manage to slide aboard without being noticed. There’s a shuffling inside the cabin.
I stand in the doorway and brace. “Drop whatever you have and come out with your hands up, asshole.” My muscles jump and prep for a fight.
A slender body pushes out from the shadows. A woman, her eyes wide.
I try to relax my stance to keep from scaring her any more than I already have. “Who are you?”
“I’m Becky Muller, Billy’s daughter.”
“Oh shit.” I step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Who are you?”
I reach out my hand. “Aden Colt. I was friends with your dad.”
“You must be the man the hospital said he was with.” I nod and she shakes my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. If it makes you feel better, he talked about you all the time.”
She blows out a breath and frowns. “I wish I could say that helps, but I haven’t spoken to my dad in over ten years. My brother said I should just let all this stuff go, but I had to come.”
I knew his relationship with his kids was strained. He was a washed-up sailor with a drinking problem, a bad temper, and a boatload of regrets, and after losing the love of his life he gave up trying. It didn’t take a genius to realize that his stories about his children were always those from their childhood.