Cameron went to his room and immediately changed into shorts and a t-shirt and running shoes. All he knew at this moment was he needed a physical release.

He rushed out of his room without glancing at the room next door, then raced up the stairs and down the deck to the twenty-four-hour gym. Fortunately, they had one on this ship and it was so late that it wasn’t crowded. One other person was doing weights, so he went to the treadmill and pushed the speed up to eight-point-oh. Yes, he needed a full-on run.

His mind replayed the day. The happiness he’d felt at Dunn’s River with his sister and nephews and her husband. The idiot Hawaiian shirt guy and the way she’d threatened to cause him bodily harm. It made him smile. Dancing with her. Laughing with her. The way she smelled like tangerines. Why had he noticed that? Anger washed over him. And frustration because he didn’t want to notice those things. And anger because of her sad eyes.

He cranked up the speed again, needing the release of pushing himself hard and fast. She’d been right that morning at the river. His face was a bit more hollow. He had lost weight.

He thought of her willowy body. He wondered if she ever ate. She wouldn’t be a runner. No, he thought of how her slender body would look in yoga pants. Stop it! He pushed a hand into his eyes and wanted to erase that. No. He had a wife. He’d had Kat.

Pushing the stop button, he jumped off the treadmill, sweating profusely. But he didn’t want to stop. He went to the weights and lay down on the bench press. It had fifty pounds already loaded on each side. He pushed a couple of sets out then got up and did some pushups and triceps curls.

No matter how much he pushed himself, he couldn’t get away from the fact that he was invested in this woman now. He wanted to know how her son and husband had died. He wanted to help her.

Realizing that surprised him. Rushing from the gym, he went back to the deck in full sprint mode. He got to her room and knocked on the door. He could punch in the code, but that didn’t seem right. He knocked again.

Abruptly, she swung the door back. She was still in her dress. Her face was tear streaked, and her hair was a ratty mess. The compression and ice pack were still on her ankle. “I told you to go away.” She turned away, letting the door drop.

He put his foot in and followed her without asking. “That’s not fair.”

She got to her bed and sat, propping up her foot. She gave him a suffering look.

“I want to help.”

Another bout of silence.

She sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “Cameron, thank you for helping me. Thank you for dancing. Thank you for getting my mind off of my problems for a bit, but I realize now this whole thing is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come on this cruise. I shouldn’t have thought this could fix me.”

He didn’t understand. “I’m not leaving.”

She shook her head. “I told you to go.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and all he wanted was to do something for her.

“Why won’t you let me help?”

She scoffed. “It’s a long story, and believe me, I’m kinda messed up. You don’t need this with … your stuff.”

She was right. He didn’t, but he found himself sitting at the chair next to her table. “I have time.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I’m sorry. “

Without thinking about it, he scooted the chair next to her bedside.

She ignored him.

“C’mon.”

She shook her head. “No.”

His heart pounded inside his chest. Why was he even here? What was he even doing? He got up and moved to the door. Then he thought of how she’d threatened to knee that guy, and he found himself needing to stay. She’d been through a lot and she was still strong. He stopped.

More awkward silence.

Finally, he turned back to her, telling her the story only his sister Alicia knew. Not the press version. This was his version. “December tenth of last year, my wife was hit by a truck and killed.” Saying it made him instantly angry, but anger had been his companion for what seemed like forever, so he kept it at bay and focused on her. “I’ve been a wreck. I … I’ve been so angry, not just because …” He felt emotion in his throat. “I’ve been a wreck because we don’t know who it was. For the last year, I’ve hired dozens of P.I.s. I’ve literally spent hundreds of hours looking at the footage the police got. There’s a guy in a black shirt with his hair buzzed who gets out for a second from a stolen black Ford. He goes to my wife, checks her pulse, runs off back to the truck, and is gone. Poof. Can’t find him. No matter how many times I watch.”

Her head turned to him, and her eyes met his.

She didn’t speak.

“The guy took off and maybe …” He threw a hand in the air. “All year, my thoughts have focused around the fact that if he would have stayed, helped her, done CPR, or called. 911, she would have lived. But we’ll never know because he left. Just left her to die in the cold.” He swallowed and focused. “I’ve been completely obsessed. I punched a paparazzi guy three weeks ago, and he sued me.”

She still said nothing, no change in expression.

He gestured to her. “This morning, you mentioned your therapist— Well, the judge ordered me to do me therapy sessions for twelve weeks, to start immediately after the court date. The only reason I’m here is because my sister, the busy body, took matters into her hands and insisted, begged, the judge to allow me to come. To give me a break from mandatory therapy so I could come on this. Note, I didn’t want to come. At all. And I told you she’s taken away my phone so I can’t check it every second.”

Still nothing.

He didn’t understand what he was feeling as he told her all of this.

“So you’re thinking that helping me will do what for you?” she asked quietly.

Annoyance surged within him. “I don’t know.” Unwillingly, he let out a quiet chuckle. “But my sister did tell me it’s Christmas and I should be helping someone.”

A small smile played at her lips. “Sounds like we have the same sister.”

He was gaining yards, and he didn’t know for what, but it felt good. “Sounds like we do.” Warmth filled him, and he knew this was the right course of action. “So, let me help.”

Isabel didn’t speak for a long time, then she let out a long breath. She reached out her hand, and he saw tears in her eyes.

This connection, this sharing was already breaking his heart. He moved to her and took her hand.

She smiled at him. “I’m so sorry about your wife.”

It was funny. He thought about how many times he’d heard that exact line over the last year. How many times people would apologize. Which was far, far, far, better than telling him nice little platitudes about being in a better place or the blessing of not leaving any motherless children behind.

“Thank you.”

She pulled back. After a moment of silence, she said, “Okay, I’ll tell you.” Her face turned from sadness to calm. She exhaled. “It’s stupid, but Rick, my husband, always wanted to go on this cruise. He had it mapped out. We didn’t have money, and he talked about bringing Sam, our son, and going on these excursions.” She nodded toward the table. “He had a list.”

Cam moved to the table and picked up a very extensive, hand written list.

She sighed. “I have to start at the beginning. I’m thirty. It’s not relevant, but I met my husband, Rick, as a freshman in college. We got married young, and we were pregnant the next year. I had Sam right before I turned twenty. It was rough, and it was a lot to handle.”

He waited.

“Rick and I had problems. He didn’t want me to do school or work, he wanted me to focus on Sam and having more kids. But, the kids didn’t come and I loved being a doula. Rick didn’t think that was a good profession for me. I … wasn’t happy. He would get so angry at times. Yell and yell and yell and …” She exhaled, holding to her necklace. “Anyway, I was going to divorce him. When Sam turned five, I finally gained the courage. I decided I would tell him while we were hiking in Estes Park. That way, Sam would be distracted and it was easier.” Her voice was soft. “It was a mistake.” She went silent. She twirled the necklace.

He waited.

Her eyes flashed open. “We were hiking, and Sam kept running between us and the river. I kept telling him to stay close and so did Rick. But—” Her voice broke.

Cam blinked and stood, feeling like he wanted to act, to help, to rush forward and do something to prevent what he knew was coming.

She sucked in a breath. “One moment he was there, and I started telling Rick I wanted a divorce. He freaked out. Then Sam was gone.”

Cam felt the panic inside of him. He could see it clearly.

“We were yelling for him when I saw him down the river.”

Cam thought of the Snake River in Jackson, the same one he’d been on with Kat and almost died in on that day so long ago.

“Rick jumped in, and then I jumped in. We tried to catch up with Sammy.” More tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Rick told me to go back because the current was so strong. I didn’t want to, but Rick yelled at me ‘Get back!’ And I knew I couldn’t catch Sam, but Rick could, so I did what Rick said, but I yelled at Rick and said, ‘Don’t come back without him.’”

Silence.

She blinked and let out a strangled sob, turning to face Cam. “Neither of them came back alive.”

Cam found himself going to her, taking her into an embrace.

She cried harder. “Doing the list was how I was going to somehow, some way … heal.”