Chapter 23
Alex

“Here.” Alex held out his hand to Faith as Caleb docked the boat back on the island.

“Thanks,” she said. She smiled up at him openly. Alex looked at her curiously. Somehow, in the boat ride back, those walls she’d built up seemed to have crumbled.

Caleb muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” Alex asked.

“Nothing,” Caleb said. He reached for the pull rope of the engine again. “I got some stuff to take care of. Y’all go on.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Alex said.

“Yeah, so? Some things are better done at night,” Caleb said.

Faith widened her eyes at Alex. They stood and watched as Caleb left in the boat. “What’s with him?” she asked.

“Who knows? Maybe the night didn’t turn out as he would have liked.”

A wave of exhaustion washed over him. It had been a long day, a grueling day. Chopping firewood always took it out of him, and those margaritas at Pirate Cove had been strong. Even though Faith seemed a little more open than she had in the past few days, he knew he was nowhere near being in her good graces.

“God, what a night,” she said. “It’s neat, though. Finding out you have family. I mean, my cousins and all, I know they care about me. But it’s in that required familial way. Hannah’s different, though.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Alex said. The girl had slightly annoyed him. That bubbly personality and lack of boundaries? It put him on edge. Sure, she seemed to be a sweet girl, but I couldn’t handle being around that for long.

Faith didn’t respond, and he regretted the words. After all, who was he to put a damper on Faith’s excitement? He was spoiled for company when it came to family.

At the fork, he turned left toward the cabin. He could see the lights from Greystone and didn’t have it in him to be gentlemanly to walk Faith to the door. Besides, I’m sure she’s happy to be rid of me, he thought.

“Hey! Alex!” He turned and saw Faith as she jogged toward him. “I’m all, I don’t know, wired from tonight, I guess. Are you up for a walk?”

He almost said no, but it had been so long since he’d seen such openness on her face that he couldn’t resist. “Sure,” he said.

“Want to head down to the beach?” she asked.

His chest tightened at the thought. A full moon, the white beach, it was a recipe for romance, and he wasn’t sure if he could manage it. “Sounds great,” he said.

They walked side by side in silence until the sand began to creep into their shoes. Alex pulled off his sneakers, and Faith put her arm on his shoulder for balance while she slipped out of her wedges.

He expected her to bombard him with questions. Or start to interrogate him about what they were and what the other night meant. As much as he tried, he couldn’t put together a reasonable answer for that. What were they, anyway? Did the other night mean anything? Of course she still gets me excited, she was hot as hell. Is there something more than that? But she surprised him.

After ten minutes, Faith directed them to the shore, and they let the saltwater lick at their ankles. “It’s warm,” she said.

“Surprised?”

“I’m used to the so-called beaches near San Francisco,” she said. “And even the water in Southern California where I grew up, they weren’t like this.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said.

“You’ve never been to another beach?”

“Never been in the water of another beach. Before, well, let’s just say I’ve never been with anyone outside of Georgia that had any interest in getting in the water.”

Faith stopped and picked up a sand dollar. She rinsed it in the frothy water and tucked it into her pocket. “Tell me about Rebecca,” she said.

“What?”

“Tell me about her,” she said simply. “I mean, if you want to.”

He sucked in his breath. Alex readied himself to tell her he certainly didn’t want to talk about his ex-wife. But when he opened his mouth, he realized that was a lie. Maybe it was time to talk about her. Maybe Faith was the right person. “When Rebecca died, everyone said I should talk to someone. That’s how they all put it. Like saying the word therapist or shrink would have been too extreme.”

“Did you?” Faith asked.

“No,” he said and turned to continue to walk. Faith stayed by his side. “I mean, I tried actually. I went to two therapists, but just once each.”

“Why?” she asked. “Didn’t like it?”

“I don’t know. At the time I thought it was all bullshit. In reality, either I just wasn’t ready or maybe they weren’t the right ones for me.”

“I hear you have to try a lot of therapists before you find the right fit,” she said.

“Hell, who has time for that when your wife just died?”

Faith was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. The kind that made him want to talk more. “Rebecca and I,” he said with a sigh. “We did it all too soon. Met too soon, got married too soon. Looking back now, I know she wasn’t the one. Even if we’d met later, dated more before we got married, it still wouldn’t have been right. Pretty sure she knew it, too.”

“How’d you meet?” Faith asked.

“College,” he said with a laugh. “I went to UGA, no surprise there. It wasn’t so different than what I was used to. But she was totally out of her element. This loud New York Jewish girl with wild black hair and a tendency to get into trouble with that mouth.”

“She sounds fun,” Faith said.

“She was,” Alex admitted. “And that was exactly what drew me to her. Hell, we were nineteen when we met. Engaged before we graduated. She hated that. How all her friends teased her about going to college in the South and ending up with her MRS degree. But me, I didn’t care.”

“When did you get married?”

“Not long after graduation,” he said. “It was a whirlwind of a summer. She and I, I think we both just rode on the excitement of it. We were both still kids. Neither one of us had ever lived outside our parents’ places or a dorm room. She had a trust fund, but just for college, and I had a few scholarships and some money from work-study and summer jobs. Felt like we could do anything.”

“I remember that feeling,” Faith said. “Doesn’t last long enough.”

“You know what’s funny? I don’t even remember the wedding,” he said with a little laugh. “When I think about it, it’s like I’m watching or remembering a movie about someone else. I remember her sister going berserk over everyone callin’ her ma’am. Thought it meant she looked old.”

Faith laughed. “Well, those are New Yorkers for you.”

“I told her sister, y’all better get used to it. That southern charm’s bound to trickle down to the kids. And Rebecca. She gave me this look when I said that. Even in that wedding dress that cost more than my car at the time. Like the thought sickened her.”

“That . . . that must have been hard,” Faith said. They stepped over a beached piece of driftwood in sync.

“I dunno. I tried, you know, to pretend that it was just the stress of the wedding. Or the drinking, or maybe I imagined it all. But I saw it. And that . . . I don’t think that was the first red flag. It was just the first one that smacked me in the face.”

“What were the others?”

He sighed. “Well, the little indiscretions. Ones I should’ve spotted as huge red flags way back.”

“She cheated on you? Like, before you were even married?”

“Wasn’t that simple,” he said with a shake of his head. “In college, there were all these times with gray areas. We’d be off at times, or it would all be under the guise of some stupid game.”

He saw Faith stumble a bit with the “stupid game” comment and rushed to cover it up.

“I mean, I told her I didn’t care. That spring break was a free-for-all, long as it was everything but. And I let it slide when she’d make out with her sorority sisters. Knew she didn’t go that way, and it was all for attention. But, hell, I don’t know. Maybe I should have just walked away. I should have,” he repeated. “I should have just walked away.”

“We all make mistakes,” Faith said gently. “And love makes us stupid.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Alex said. “I don’t . . . I don’t know if it was love. I mean, hell, she was my first.”

“Your first?”

“My first everything,” he said.

“Oh. So in high school? You didn’t—”

He let out a laugh. “I’m not trying to be rude, but you never saw the girls that went to my high school,” he said. “First of all, there’re so few kids on the island, my graduating class was a whoppin’ twelve people. And three of ʼem still live at the inn.”

“Whoa, seriously?” Faith said.

“Good amount of home schoolin’ round here,” he said. “But yeah, the island’s tight. The few girls that were around, well they were more like sisters. We all experimented, but it was innocent. A kiss here or there.”

“And in college?”

He shrugged. “I made out with a few girls. But I met Rebecca freshman year. We were official by sophomore year. What can I say? I was faithful to her.”

“That’s hard,” Faith said.

“Yeah, well. Like I said. Lookin’ back? I don’t think it was love. Not full love, the real deal. Puppy lust or infatuation, maybe. But after college? I’d figured she gotten any flirtin’ outta her system.”

“And she didn’t?”

“Turns out, no,” he said as he let out a breath of air. “I . . . I don’t know how many times. Maybe it really was just the once. Or the one guy. That’s what we fought about the night she died.”

“Jesus,” Faith said. “How did you—”

“Find out?” he asked. “Wasn’t hard. Not like she hid it. Hell, for all I know, she wanted to flaunt it.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I reckon because she was unhappy,” he said simply. He’d never said it before, but it sounded right. “We both were. She just was the one who acted out ʼcause of it.”

“And you didn’t suspect anything before? Even with her flirting with George?”

“Not really,” he said, and mulled it over. “At least, not as much as I should have. And not in the right way. Earlier, I’d catch her flirting and drag her away. Felt like a caveman. And then we’d get into this whole circus act. We got pretty good at it, I have to admit.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” she said.

“Far from it!” he said with a laugh. “But it was familiar. You know? And comfortable. We both knew our roles. Though, I gotta admit, I wasn’t totally innocent in all of it.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I never cheated on her. Never even flirted with anyone else. That’s just not me. But I buried myself away. I ignored it, unless it was just so damn obvious I couldn’t. Tucked myself into work, kept myself busy. Just lookin’ for a distraction.”

“That’s no excuse for someone to cheat. Especially when they’re married,” Faith said.

“I know, but still. I coulda handled it better. Even after we were married, I was just so scared of admitting it was a mistake. To anyone, myself included. I just . . . I just wanted it to work.”

“I think that’s common,” Faith said. “A lot of people get stuck in bad marriages because of that.”

“Yeah, well. Count me among ʼem,” Alex said.

“Alex.” Faith put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Just so you know, I’m not her.”

He looked down at her, with those big green eyes framed by lush lashes. Her face shone in the moonlight. Before he could question himself, he leaned down and kissed her. She responded as if no time had passed since they’d been in his bed.

Alex wound his arms around her waist and felt the heat from her body in his palms. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue found hers. Faith’s hands wrapped around his neck, and he could hear her breath quicken. He started to kiss his way down her neck. The scent of her perfume was addictive.

Suddenly, Faith broke free and took a step back. “We have to stop,” she panted.

“But why?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“You need to figure yourself out,” she said quietly, though it wasn’t cruel.

He nodded and looked to the waves. After a moment, he heard her soft feet in the sand as she headed back to the trail alone.

You need to figure yourself out, he repeated the words to himself. Maybe so. And maybe, if and when he did, something greater than he ever fathomed would be on the other side.