Juliet

We’re both eating breakfast in silence, but I’m not even hungry. I can’t stop thinking about what happened last night. And that I did all those dirty things.

My stomach twists, and I push away my plate and look around.

“Not hungry?” Lock asks.

I shake my head. “I’m a bit nauseous.”

“Oh …” He frowns. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, smiling gently. “Maybe if I wait a few minutes, I’ll get my appetite back.”

“Do that,” he says, chomping on some fish. “I’m gonna go hunt some more today.”

“Hunt?” I look up at him.

“Yeah. We need more fur and jerky.”

I cringe. “Maybe … we could do with more fish?”

“Yeah … tomorrow.” He smiles as he swallows down his food. “We still have enough.”

“Right.” I was actually hoping he might start eating more fish instead of meat, but I guess some things will never change.

Not that I should be thinking about food right now. I feel sick to my stomach. So badly, that I get up off my seat and say, “I … have to go.”

“Where?” he asks as I run out the door and throw it all up somewhere in the bushes. “Jules?”

“Just … go eat,” I say, trying not to be worried even though I am.

Being sick isn’t the problem; it’s the fact I’m sick in the jungle.

I immediately touch my forehead to make sure I’m not feverish, but I’m not. And now that it’s all out, I feel much better. What if it’s some bad kind of virus, though? There’s no medicine here apart from some of the herbs I’ve found. If it gets really bad, there’s no doctor I can go to. No hospital to visit.

We’re all on our own … and somehow that thought freaks me out.

The door slams open, and Lock storms outside. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I cough, but it only makes more bile rise.

“You aren’t,” he says.

I spit it out and wipe my mouth on a leaf, then I walk to the water barrel and dunk in a cup, taking a sip. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Why? Does it matter?”

His brows furrow. “Something bothering you? You sound angry.”

I sigh. “Look, forget it, okay?” It doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t understand. He likes it here.

“Why? You’re sick.” He grabs my hand. “Come inside.”

He drags me along, and I struggle to stop him. “Let go.”

“No, you should be in bed,” he says.

“I feel fine,” I reply, trying to jerk free, but he won’t release me from his grip. “It was the food.”

“Bullshit. I ate that too, and I feel fine. You’re sick. That’s dangerous here.”

“I know,” I say as he pushes me inside and closes the door behind us. “Why do you think I want to go home?” I blurt out.

His eyes narrow, and he sighs too now.

Shit. I didn’t mean for that to come out so badly.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop,” he interrupts. “You don’t have to say it. I know what you want.”

I swallow and sit down on the bed, gazing down at my feet. I wish I could’ve met him under different circumstances. In a different place. Maybe then things would’ve been a lot easier.

But would we have been the same people?

Would he have been so caring?

I doubt it.

All the men I’ve met up until now were assholes who only wanted me for my body. None of them were in it for the long game. But Lock? He doesn’t even seem to care about my looks or what I’m wearing or how sexy I am. He looks at me in a way only a lover would.

He pays attention to the words I speak and doesn’t laugh at me.

He takes me seriously … and I appreciate that.

But can this ever be more than just a thing?

I don’t even know what to call it.

I just know I’m in deep trouble, and I don’t know how to get out of it.

He sits down on the bed beside me and says, “Please …” He places a hand on my leg. “Rest a little. Let me do the work today. I want you to be okay.”

“But …” I have so many things to do.

Wash my clothes and the banana leaves. Gather more food. Continue my work on my boat.

He gently tips my chin up and says, “What do you want me to do? Ask, and I’ll do it.”

The smile he gives me makes butterflies scatter in my stomach.

Shit. Why do I feel this way around him?

I smile and look away, trying to ignore this warmth growing inside me. “I need a boat.”

He frowns. “A boat? Why?”

I nod.

“Oh …” Finally, it sinks in with him. “Right. You still want off this island.”

I bite my lip as it’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Lock, what if I’m sick?”

“Then I’ll take care of you.” I appreciate the sentiment, but what if it’s worse?

“What if that’s not enough?” I say. “What if it gets bad? Really bad?”

His face contorts as if he’s having a difficult time processing it. “You mean …?”

“What if it’s a virus? What if I have an infection?”

“Virus?” He frowns. “What’s that?”

“Something bad. Tiny animals in the air that do damage to your body on the inside.”

“Animals?” He grabs his spear. “I’ll hunt them.”

I chuckle but hide my laughter behind my arm when he glares at me.

“It’s not funny. I’ll do it.”

“You can’t. They’re practically invisible.”

“Invisible? How? What kind of monster can’t be seen?”

“Not technically,” I say, taking in a breath. “They’re just super small, so small you can’t see them. But they exist. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But … how are you supposed to get better then?” he asks.

“Medicine, Lock. If I’m really sick, I’ll need medicine.”

“Where can I find it?” he says, making a fist with his hand. “I’ll search.”

“Not everything can be found on this island. I already looked. There are only a handful of herbs. Some of them to kill pain and inflammation, others for headaches, and some for stomach aches. Not much else. The only way to get them is to go …”

“Home,” he mumbles, looking away into the distance.

I nod, but the sad look in his eyes breaks my heart. I don’t want him to be sad. Not even when it’s better for me to be there than it is to be here. Right now, I don’t even know what I want anymore.

I place a hand on his cheek and say, “But I’m not that sick yet. Maybe it’ll be all right.”

He immediately brightens. “Could it be something else?” he asks.

“Well …” I blush. “Maybe … I could be …” I place a hand on my stomach and rub it gently.

“Pregnant?” he asks.

Sucking on my bottom lip, I mumble, “I don’t know. I hope not.”

Fuck, why did I have to have sex without protection again?

“Why not? That would be amazing,” he says, placing a hand on my stomach too. “My baby … Our baby.”

“No,” I say, pushing him away. “I can’t be pregnant here.”

“But you’re my woman,” he says, grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You belong to me.” He presses a kiss to my lips, and I’m helplessly melting into a puddle right in front of him.

How can I resist this man?

This savage who takes what he wants and claims it as his?

It’s the ultimate compliment, yet it doesn’t feel right.

How can I say yes to this when the world goes on beyond this island?

I can’t.

Even though I want to, so badly, more than anything.

I want to give in to my heart, but my moral compass won’t let me.

If I truly am pregnant, then I should get off this island.

Right now.

Not for myself, but for that baby.

If it is real, and I am pregnant, there’s no way I can have it on this island.

That wouldn’t be right for the baby. Or for me.

I have to make the right decision.

So I push Lock away and say, “No.”

He frowns as I get up and walk to the door. “No, what? You’re not my woman?”

“I can’t, Lock,” I say, glancing over my shoulder, tears filling my eyes. “Don’t ask this of me, please.”

Before I burst into tears, I run outside and slam the door shut.

I do what I always do. What I’m used to.

When I’m suffocating in my own emotions … I shut people out.

* * *

Lock

For the entire day, she works on some kind of long wooden thing next to the campfire. She toils away with my tools, not even asking if she can borrow them, but sure. Every time I ask her what she’s doing, she ignores me and throws me a look. Like I’m the bad guy for asking her why she’s so upset.

Maybe I am. At this point, I honestly don’t know anymore.

We’ve all done bad shit, but does that make me the only one around who’s selfish? No.

She doesn’t think about me or anyone else while she’s attempting to do fuck knows what. I don’t know why she’s still so pissed off at me. She got what she wanted; I told her about me, and then we made up with sweet, rough sex. And it’s still not enough.

What else can I give her to make her happy?

She won’t accept the drinks I offer or the food. Kisses or hugs are out of the question, and talking won’t work either.

The moment she became sick, everything went downhill again. Is it because she’s afraid of being down on the ground with no way to recover? Or is it because she thinks she might be pregnant?

If that’s the case, I can’t be happier.

My woman … pregnant with my baby. That’s like a dream come true.

But it doesn’t seem like that to her. Is having my baby so bad? On this island?

I sit down in front of her with a cup of water in my hand and try to offer it to her again, but she doesn’t even look at it.

“Jules … c’mon,” I say, holding it under her nose.

She pushes me away and part of the water splashes all over the ground. “Don’t.”

“What’s your problem?” I ask.

“This,” she says. “Everything.”

I sigh. “You still want off the island?”

“Yes.” She says it within a heartbeat. As if it doesn’t mean the world to me if she stayed.

I bite my lip and say, “No.”

Her face contorts as she lowers the tools for a second and stares at me. “You have no right to decide that for me.”

“You want to get away from me?”

“I never said that,” she says.

“No, but it’s the same.”

“It’s not. I just … never mind.” She shakes her head. “If you’re not going to help me, just let me work.”

“What are you making?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” she mumbles as she toils on.

I shrug and chug the last bit of water before placing the cup on the ground. “Suit yourself. I’m going to hunt.”

* * *

Lock

When I come back from my hunt at sundown, I drop off all the meat and fish in my hut, which I’ll smoke later. When I look around, Jules is nowhere to be found. I thought she’d be inside, but there’s no one here but me. Where the fuck did she go?

“Jules?” I call out her name several times outside, but there’s no response.

Fuck.

Did she disappear on me again?

Where did she go this time? Back to the helicopter? Up the hills into the deep jungle? Fuck, I hope not.

Did she not leave any tracks? Nothing’s missing … except for that thing she was making.

That long wooden thing. What could it be used for? It was carved out enough for it to fit her body. She kept on sitting down inside and then getting back up again.

And then it hits me.

It must be … a boat.

Fuck.

Of course, she would build one.

I immediately grab my spear and a lit torch and march through the jungle. I know where she is. We always come back to that same place … where our love gets torn apart between our different worlds.

The beach.

The moment I get there, I stare out into the distance. There’s a tiny speck in the water. I can barely tell because it’s already getting dark, but it has to be her.

It has to be.

I throw the torch and spear down on the ground and rush through the sand toward the water, but the closer I get, the farther the boat seems to go. It’s definitely her. The short hair and curvy body give it away.

She’s struggling to stay afloat, using a thick tree branch as an oar.

And then the boat suddenly flips over.

“Jules!” I scream.

She doesn’t come up.

I jump into the water and swim as fast as I can. I don’t give a damn that I’m bad at swimming or that it could kill me if I go too deep because the waves are so strong. I have to save her.

As I run in, my foot scratches along some of the sharp rocks. Sharp pain makes me grunt, but I still push on.

Fuck. I can’t stop.

I plow ahead through the water, using every bit of strength I have. The salty water enters my nose, and I cough and wheeze but keep on going.

I don’t fucking give up.

Ever.

Not when it comes to her.

Not even when the salty water stings my foot.

Not even when my muscles start to hurt from the sloshing waves.

I won’t stop … because she is my woman. And I have to save her from herself.

When I finally get to the flipped boat, I scream her name. “Jules!”

I dive down and try to look around, but there’s nothing except fish and shells and coral. Where the hell is she?

I come up to get air.

That’s when I spot her to my left, not far from the boat. “Jules!”

I swim to her and quickly grab her, pulling her up to my body so her head stays above the water. She’s not awake yet, so I softly pat her face and say, “C’mon, Jules. Stay with me.”

A moment later, she chokes and coughs up water. She gargles and sputters as I pull her back to the boat.

“Hold on,” I say as I grab it.

“Fuck …” she mumbles as she grabs the wood and throws herself onto the top.

She’s breathing in and out as loudly as I am, but I’m not done yet.

I push the wood all the way back to the beach with her on top while she groans and comes back to the land of the living.

When we reach the shore, I pull her off and hold her in my arms as I walk onto the sand. I don’t stop until we’re safe from the waves, then place her on the ground and collapse beside her.

We’re alive.

For now.