She looked beautiful today (as she did everyday), with her soft curls mussed by the ocean breeze and her cheeks so rosy, but there was something missing. Her eyes were not so lit with adventure and love as he’d once seen them. Instead, there an aura of anger or sadness or both seemed to surround her like a nimbus. She was beautiful, yes, but her smiles were what he craved and he knew well and good he’d never see one again.
After everything had blown up, he’d gone back to win her again, only to find her missing. He’d had a speech prepared, then: lovely and flowing and filled with all his he should have said right from the start. He’d been too afraid to break the spell, early on, and then it was too late. Fool that he was, he’d convinced himself - perhaps even had wanted to think - that the only person who would be hurt by it all was himself. The truth was far more complex. When he’d found her gone, her inescapable message had been clear: I never wish to see your face again. He’d abided by that. He’d hurt her enough for a lifetime, after all. He’d abided by it and burned the letter instead of sending it. But now, now all those fine words were lost in ash and the only word in his head was her name, round and round and round again like an anthem in his mind.
“Cassie, I can’t believe-” he started again, heard her voice and broke off abruptly.
The question ached because he knew the answer. Tom hung his head, feeling like a guilty fool. “I, uh,” he grimaced. The answer to that question felt like a blow and Tom ran a hand over his mouth. “I…I’m vacationing here,” he began. “I…I’m with some people.” A long pause. He wanted to be honest, he’d sworn to himself he’d always be honest from that time onward. He’d told himself it was the best way to avoid hurting her again, but now…he felt sure the truth would hurt, too. Best not to prolong it. He said it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. “Including Diana. We, we were thinking of…” No, too honest, she didn’t need to know they were here looking for wedding locations.
Her words were a blow but, by the same token, they weren’t exactly shocking, either. That was how it should be: he should be the one to leave her to herself rather than forcing her to escape him, again. He felt sure this would be the last thing she would ever ask of him. He wished he could. “I…I can’t. I came with a friend on a boat and…believe me, he’s not going anywhere until he gets his girl back. Apparently she summers here or something I…I don’t know.” He shook his head. Too much information, again.
“Please, I know I must be the very last person you want to see or talk to, right now, but…I feel I owe you an explanation. Could I, could I just have a few moments to explain?”
It hurt to hear him whisper her name like that ... like he used to; like he cared. She had to stop herself from going to him, seeing him look at her like that. She had to remind herself that it all had been empty words and broken promises. She wanted to tell him to go, but she couldn’t find the words after what he said next ... after he explained what he was doing there.
“Oh.” She wished she hadn’t asked. If she was being honest with herself, part of her had wanted him to say that he was there for her. Instead, it was just a cruel coincidence that he and Diana had ended up here ... here, at the end of the earth, where she had gone specifically to avoid running into him.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
He kept talking, but she barely heard him. He was just making excuses again ... explaining why he couldn’t leave. As though it was impossible to leave the island by any other way than his friend’s boat. Why was he even bothering? They both knew that he only ever did exactly as he pleased, anyway.
“Explain? What more can you have to say?” She didn’t want to hear it: she didn’t want to hear any of it. He’d tried to explain, when she’d found out, but she only heard him scramble as he tried to say what he thought she wanted to hear. But how could he explain all of it away? He’d been engaged to another woman during the entirety of their relationship and only ever breathed a word of it after she had discovered it for herself.
Still, she stood there, unmoving. Waiting, despite herself, for him to speak. Hoping, in that one brief moment, that there might be something he would say that would explain it; that would somehow make it all okay. When she returned to her senses, she realized how silly that thought was. She couldn’t trust anything he had to say, anyway. How could she? It had all been a lie and all she was waiting for was one last pathetic attempt to try to convince her otherwise.
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