“Guess so,” he says, spreading his arms. “Almost forgot.” He speedwalks to the bedroom and comes back with a phone in his hand. “I got this updated for you. Should have all your shit in there.”
I take the phone. “Thanks.”
He nods and heads toward the balcony. “I had Martin order you some clothes and deliver them here. No one knows your style choices better than him. By the way, your view is better than mine. Plus, we still have shit to discuss. Room three-three-one. It’s on the left. Follow the chickens, they have a giant nest next to her bungalow.”
“Alright.”
I run to the door and out. It doesn’t take me long to find her bungalow, but seeing it makes me mad. It’s the smallest one on the whole shore. Tiny. Really tiny. Not much bigger than the shelter we had on the island. And not much nicer.
I take a deep breath for bravery before I knock on her door when I hear the raised voice. One raised voice. Beatrice. She’s yelling at Maeve who doesn’t fight back.
“You left me. I was seventeen!”
Without wasting any time, I knock. Loudly.
The door flies open, and my not-happening wife meets me with furious eyes.
“He’s here. I’m done anyway.” She storms past, knocking her skinny shoulder into me. I pretend that it hurts and step away. It’s wise not to aggravate the situation, despite how much I want to tell her to come back and apologize for yelling at Maeve.
When the door is closed behind me, I look at the woman who has changed my life perspective in the short time I’ve known her. She looks so small with her arms wrapped around herself.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She doesn’t respond.
“Can we talk?”
“You’re talking already.” Her voice is coarse, as if she’s been crying.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” I look around, not knowing how to actually start saying what I came here to say. I was in such a rush that I didn’t rehearse a speech or even think through what I wanted her to know. “This room is small.”
“It’s fine.” Even her voice is small.
“I’ll get you another room.”
“I said it’s fine. I don’t need anything from you.” She wipes her nose with her sleeve.
“Right.” I nervously look around, feeling like I’m totally fucking it all up. “Are you okay?” I ask when I find my voice again.
“I’m fine.” A sniffle.
“Maeve.” I take a careful step toward her, and when she doesn’t back away, I take it as a good sign and take another one. At that, she looks like a deer caught in headlights, and I instantly stop. “I’m sorry.”
“For what exactly?”
Good question. “For everything I guess,” I reply, unsure of what would be the right thing to say.
“For lying to me?” Her voice is stern.
“I wasn’t lying. We just didn’t talk about our lives outside of the island.”
“Sure. We didn’t talk about anything because you didn’t want to.” For the first time, her hard eyes focus on mine. “Now I see why.”
“It’s not that.” I feel like the biggest scam on the planet.
Her brow goes up.
“I mean, that’s not all of it. I generally don’t get close to people. I’m very…” I clear my throat. “How to put it?”
