The Missing - Kiersten Modglin (the reading strategies book TXT) 📗

so much as a goodbye to us. When they’d been gone a while, Noah dropped the rest of his breakfast and dusted off his hands.

“You okay?” It was the first we’d really spoken since the argument the evening before. At my wish, he’d left me to myself as I tried to process everything, so it felt strange to be talking about it now.

“I’m okay.” I pressed my lips together, hoping he believed me. I didn’t want to think Noah was working against me; I had to trust that he wasn’t. I needed to have faith in his loyalty to me as much as I needed water. He was all I had, and the solitude would kill me before his betrayal.

“Don’t let them get to you. We’re all just freaked out…” He slid closer to me, keeping his head down, voice low.

“We’ve been freaked out. All of us. But we’d never accuse them of being murderers,” I argued, anger bubbling in my belly at the reminder.

He shrugged, not responding right away, and plucked a berry from the pile again before popping it into his mouth. “We might. You don’t know what we’d do if the situation were reversed.”

I glowered at him.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s right. It’s ridiculous, but…we left with three people and came back with two. I’m just not surprised they have their suspicions about it.”

“And you’re okay with that? With them thinking we possibly killed our friend?”

“Of course I’m not okay with it,” he said simply. “But”—he stood up, stretching his arms above his head and looking toward the ocean—“I’m also not okay with being on this island, or not having access to shampoo or toothpaste for weeks. It is what it is.” He held out his hand to me, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

“So what are you suggesting we do about it? Just ignore it? Just let them believe it?”

“Well, I’m suggesting we let them believe what they will, which is what they’d do anyway, and we spend the day in the ocean.” He tilted his head toward the water. “What do you say?”

“Our friends think we’re murderers, and you’re suggesting we go for a swim?” I stared at him in disbelief.

“Do you think there’ll be a better time?” He scoffed. “Come on. We’ve been on this island for weeks now, months maybe, and we never get to enjoy it. Live a little.” He winked at me, my insides coming alive with electricity at the gesture.

I glanced out at the ocean, its waves beckoning me toward it. “Fine,” I said, trying to force down a smile. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His boy-like grin was contagious. “Alright! Come on.” He took off toward the water at breakneck speed, looking back in a form of challenge. “Race me!”

I pulled the T-shirt over my head, dropping it onto the ground and charging after him, unable to keep myself from laughing as he hit the water and nearly tripped trying to slow himself down.

I made it to him seconds later, grabbing a handful of water and tossing it at him playfully. His expression lit up with a playful grin.

“You’re going to get it!” he shouted, smacking the water toward me aggressively as I squealed.

We were avoiding reality. It wasn’t that we had forgotten about Harry or the betrayal we felt from our friends, but for the moment, it was nice to pretend that we could. To splash and play and laugh in the sun as if we were just a normal couple on a normal vacation.

Thinking of that made me think of my husband, of how we’d been in the beginning of our marriage, when vacations were still a thing we enjoyed together. Long before his many promotions; long before he’d forgotten he was supposed to love me too. As much as his career if not more.

My heart sank. I’d begun to accept the fact that I’d never see him again, that there was no escape from the island, and that I wasn’t willing to hurt anyone even if it did mean I could escape, but I still couldn’t let down my wall for Noah.

I was a married woman, even if my husband was on another continent, and I couldn’t force the guilt away for the way Noah made me feel.

Alive.

Seen.

Beautiful.

But he wasn’t an option. I knew that, and yet I seemed to be in a constant state of war with myself over it. Despite the issues in my marriage and the distance between my husband and me—both physical and figurative—I still felt committed to our marriage. Maybe it was foolish, but I still loved him. So why couldn’t I forget my growing feelings for Noah? I knew I had to.

But in that moment, as he scooped me up from behind and spun us around until we both collapsed in the water, a heaping mess of laughter and happiness, it was nice to forget. Nice to pretend.

When we stood, he brushed a piece of hair from my eyes, his eyes lingering on mine for a second too long before he looked away.

“I was thinking of going to the falls later today. When James is done… Would you want to come?” There was a hint of something in his question, but I couldn’t place my finger on what. We’d gone to the falls together countless times now, as we’d all agreed no one should be allowed to go alone. So why did he seem nervous asking?

“Sure,” I said, touching his arm gently. “Everything okay?”

When he looked at me again, there was a familiar heat in his expression. A heat that had all but disappeared since the night he kissed me. He opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something, then closed it again. Finally, he splashed me. “I just need a bath. And, since I’m downwind from you, I can confidently say you do, too.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes at him, and turned to run away with a loud laugh. I was thankful that the