Page 53 of Take Me Away

But the way she’s wrapped her arms around herself, the way she won’t look at me, the way her breathing has changed – it’s telling me everything she won’t say.

Something cold and sharp settles in my chest. Fear. Rage. Something worse.

‘Jesus, Isla⁠—’

‘Please.’ The word comes out broken. ‘Please don’t ask me. I’m not…’ She stops, swallows hard. ‘I’m not ready.’

I want to push. Want to demand answers so I can do something with the protective fury building inside me. But I can see how close she is to shattering completely.

‘Okay,’ I force myself to say. ‘Okay. You don’t have to talk about it.’

She lets out a shaky breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

‘But if you ever…’ I stop, trying to find the right words. ‘If you ever need to talk, I’m here. You understand?’

She nods, still not looking at me.

The silence that follows is heavy. I can feel the questions crowding my throat, scenarios I don’t want to imagine filling my head.

Whatever happened between her and Marcus Vale – whatever she’s not saying – it’s bad enough that she can’t even begin to speak about it.

And that terrifies me.

Before the silence can engulf us, leaving us both tormented by our thoughts and memories, she speaks again. ‘I meant what I said last night about Jessica – I would have come if I’d known. Finding Maggie’s postcard in the cottage…’ Her voice catches. ‘Knowing she tried to reach out to me and I never knew – it’s been eating at me.’

‘I believe you about the postcard,’ I say, surprised by how much I mean it. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. ‘I’ve been trying not to feel anything at all since Jessica died. It’s been my survival strategy.’

She nods, moonlight catching in her hair.

‘It was easier,’ I continue, compelled by the darkness and her honesty to offer some of my own, ‘to believe that our friendship for all those years didn’t mean anything to you. That you left and didn’t look back.’

‘I looked back.’ Her whisper breaks the stillness. ‘All the time.’

My chest tightens at her words and my throat constricts.

‘And then it seemed like you’d moved on,’ she says softly, picking up the confession. ‘Maggie came to visit me and said you were settled down.’

Silence seems to echo in the darkness.

‘So soon,’ she whispers, a gasp catching the words and reframing everything – like shifting a picture just enough to see what it’s hiding. I close my eyes, leaning my head back. A year felt like forever then. Now it feels like I barely let the grave settle.

‘Jessica was amazing,’ I say, surprising myself. I straighten up to look at her. ‘I met her a year after you left. She was kind and funny and patient. She loved puzzles and could never keep plants alive and sang terribly in the shower.’

Isla is very still, listening.

‘She knew about you,’ I continue. ‘I told her everything. And she loved me anyway. Even knowing I always had this little soft spot I kept just for you. A tender little bruise that eventually she made me forget to press to feel the ache.’ I take a deep breath. ‘She was your opposite in every way. And somehow … that saved me.’

‘She sounds wonderful.’ Isla wraps her slender arms around her knees.

‘She was.’ My throat tightens. ‘And then she got sick, and nothing made sense anymore. She fought so hard. For me, for Maisie. She made me promise things before she died.’

‘What things?’

‘To be happy. To live fully. To let Maisie know her. To…’ I hesitate, then push on. ‘To love again someday.’

‘Have you? Been happy? Lived fully?’

I consider lying, but what’s the point? ‘No,’ I admit. ‘I’ve existed. I’ve raised Maisie. I’ve worked. But happy? I don’t know what that feels like anymore.’