One Night on the Island by Josie Silver

Author:Josie Silver [Silver, Josie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature, Contemporary Women, Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780241989944
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2022-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Mack, October 20, Salvation Island

Part of not drowning is swimming

“What are you doing out here?” I say.

It’s early afternoon, and she’s been sitting on the porch steps for a good while now, her dark hair whipping around her face in the wind. I want to tell her she reminds me of an ethereal sea goddess, but I don’t, because even inside my head it sounds clichéd.

“Thinking,” Cleo says, a million miles away.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I say, hunkering down beside her. Jeez, it’s cold out here without a sweater.

“I was wondering whether we need a new rules sheet.” She smiles, bumping her shoulder against mine.

“Or we could just have no rules at all,” I say.

“I was quite fond of that chalk line,” she says.

“Okay,” I say. “How about no stalking each other on social media?”

“Afterward?”

I nod. I meant at all, but especially not afterward.

She twists her head to stare at me in silence for a few seconds. “Still no regrets today?”

I don’t blame her for rechecking. I left her sleeping this morning, needing to walk and clear my head. “It’s pretty hard to regret something that felt so damn good,” I say.

She half smiles. “It did feel pretty amazing.”

I pull her blanket around my shoulders too so we’re huddled together. “I don’t mean this in the way it’s probably going to sound,” I say, but I don’t censor myself, because if I do it’ll probably come out worse. “I needed last night. I needed to be with someone who wasn’t Susie.”

“And I just happened to be there?” she says neutrally.

“No, no. It’s not that you just happened to be there at all,” I say. “It’s that you happened to be you. My head has been stuck in a place where I couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else like that.” An image of myself on the morning of my wedding surfaces in my head: the churn of nerves threatening to bring my breakfast back up, my mother carefully straightening my tie. “My marriage. I made vows, I promised to love one person forever. It meant something to me—everything at the time—and it’s hard work letting go of all of that, you know?”

Of course she doesn’t know. How could she? But I do hope that she’ll at least see that my life is complicated. Although actually, right here and now, this doesn’t feel complicated at all. She laid her expectations out clearly: let’s share everything we are for eight days and then never see each other again. It’s cut and dried.

“Are you sure you want to let go?”

“Am I sure?” I shake my head, unwilling to lie to Cleo even a little. “I’ve defined myself by my position as a husband and a father for a long time now. I guess I’m trying to work out how to be one without the other. I’ve drifted through the last year like a man clinging to a life raft hoping to be brought aboard again, even though I could see the lights of the

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