Isabella
“Mrs. Patten?”
Disoriented, I open my eyes and shake my head, no. Mrs. Patten is Grayson’s mother, a woman in her sixties who lives on an estate with tennis courts and stables.
A wall clock’s bright red digits say it’s almost midnight. That’s a nurse, I’m in a Miami hospital, and Skye sleeps in a crib next to me. I recall they rolled her down somewhere around ten so I could nurse.
“Sorry. Yes. I’m Mrs. Patten.” Now that I’m more awake, I remember who I am and blink once or twice in the darkened room.
A black nurse in light blue scrubs smiles kindly. “Sorry to bother you but there’s a Mr. Patten threatening a law suit—”
“Where is he?” With a laugh, I jump up, full of energy.
“Right here, babe.” My husband’s voice sounds from outside in the hallway and I’m so overwhelmed, I burst into tears as I run to his wheelchair.
I grab him around the neck and kiss the living daylights out of him. The nurse grins, pushes us into Slate’s room, and closes the door. Then, my hands lock behind his neck. I don’t let go for fear I’ll wake in the helicopter, still searching the whole Atlantic.
I put my forehead to his. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
“Ah fuck, Isabella, I thought I might never see you again.” Bandaged palms cup my face, swollen lips kiss mine, and I finally start to believe he’s here.
“I love you so much.” I will say those words over and over, for the rest of our lives.
As close as possible, I snuggle to inhale his scent as my hands slide up and down his arms, things I thought lost to me forever.
“I love you too.” His eyes soften as he stands.
With our bodies pressed together, he kisses me again, more gently, sweetly. Then, he leans over the crib where the baby sleeps, kisses her nose and a tear drips down his cheek.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
With our fingers intertwined, his gaze comes back to mine, and we openly weep. When we’re done, I grab the tissue box, he takes a few, and we blow at the exact same moment. In each other’s arms we laugh, cry, hug and kiss until the nurse taps on the door.
“Mr. Patten? You need to rest.”
She grabs him by his bicep and leads him to the bed and as he lies down, Slate wakes up and says, “Hey, buddy, is that you?”
I put a straw to Slate’s lips while the nurse tethers Grayson to an IV. We talk for a while about what happened when we were separated. Much later, I sit between Slate and my husband with Skye nearby, in a portable crib. When she fusses, I place her on Gray’s chest. He lifts her up and down until she squeals. Next, I hand her over to Slate so I can kiss my husband properly.
When we break off, his eyes smolder when he whispers, “You and Skye were my only reasons for hanging on.”
My lips go to his ear as I bend over the chrome bar. “Everyone else said it was impossible but I knew you were alive. I felt it here.”
I tap on my chest, he grabs my hands and kisses them. “Babe? Things are going to be a lot different from now on. I swear I’ll never again take you for granted.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing. All of our problems seem small now, in comparison. Speaking of problems, did anyone find… Xavier’s body?”
“I called Paul and told him what happened. If they do, he’ll make sure it all disappears.”
Grayson’s lawyer is amazing but still, I’m concerned. “What about Slate’s gunshot wound? How did you explain that away?”
Eavesdropping, Slate barges in with a big grin. “I told them we had looters on the island after the quake.”
Grayson glances over. “How ya doing, over there?”
“I lost a lot of blood but the surgeon said I’ll recover fully. I can be driving by next week if you still want me.”
“Of course, we do.” Turning, I explain to my husband, “Thank God Slate knew the pilot and convinced him to search for you.”
“It wasn’t me. The lucky bastard’s a millionaire, thanks to her reward.”
“You did that?” My husband’s mouth drops open.
“Uh huh. I would’ve given a billion.”
Grayson squeezes my hand. “All the time I was in the water, I was thinking of you and Skye. I wanted to spend my life with you, not have it end there. I heard you talk to me. You urged me to hang on.”
“I did, love, I did. I can’t believe how lucky we were. If Thomas hadn’t shown us how to climb those palm trees…”
“Speaking of Thomas, I did see him and his grandmother in the helicopter, right?”
“Yes. I sent them home right after we found you. And oh, I almost forgot, there’s one other thing I heard. It’s so strange.”
“What’s that?”
“You remember, when we first met how my best friend, Jeannette, the HR rep went missing? They found her body on Nassau. Apparently, she couldn’t get to high ground in time.”
“Wait, so you think she was with Xavier?”
I shake my head back and forth, still not able to believe it. “I guess. He could be quite a charmer when he wanted to be. We may never know. She was a single mom, always strapped for cash. Sad, though.”
“Sorry hun.”
“Thanks. I always figured Xavier murdered her. I can’t believe she left and never said boo.”
While I ponder her misfortune, the doctor comes in and shoos me out of the room. Both Slate and Gray pout when I return so I give them the chocolate bars I bought in the machine. “Don’t tell me, the doctor’s keeping you both another night.”
Slate groans. “Not only that, he says I can’t pilot for at least two weeks. How will we get home?”
I smirk. “They do have these things called commercial flights.”
Horrified, Slate’s mouth drops open. “Are you kidding? That’s not safe.”
“After all that’s happened, I guess we’ll chance it.” Laughing, I hand him a cell phone all set up for his use. “Here. I thought there might be some people worried about you. I called Jack. He sends his regards and suggests you brush up on your skills.”
“I’ll never hear the end of this.” Our friend tries to sit upright so I rush over and push a pillow behind his back.
My voice cracks when I recall what happened right before the storm. “I never got a chance to tell you. I, ah… I can never thank you enough. You took a bullet for us.”
“My job, Isabella.”
“No, not a job, more like family.” I reach out to hug him but he expertly avoids me with a fake cough.
When I put my hands on my hips, he sends me an impish grin. “You know I’m there for you guys. Always. And tell your husband he owes me, big time. I lost my favorite Grateful Dead t-shirt. Irreplaceable, had it for years.”
“I’m right here, you know.” My husband shoots Slate the look and they both chuckle.