Wet Part 3 (36 page)

He regretted it even more as he read how miserable she’d been the last few days, since he’d run out on her. He didn’t understand how she could possibly think he wasn’t coming back. A chill ran down his spine at what he read next. She spoke of diving, the only passion in her life, now that she no longer had him.

Diving gives me clarity, and when I can’t be diving, snorkeling is the next best thing. I wish I could snorkel forever,

just numbly drift off into the sunset and forget everything, forget him.

Ha! Like that’ll ever happen. I’m just hanging on to anything I can right now, hoping this pain will get better with time,

someday, maybe when I’m old and grey . . . who am I kidding.

I’m never going to get over him, but I have made up my mind.

It feels like I’ve been knifed in the heart, and tomorrow,

I’m going to insert the knife back in the same wound and twist it around.

I don’t want to do it, but I have to. I’ve learned a lot about myself the past year—the past month—Paul
used
to be here, helping me figure it out,

but now he’s gone, done with me, and I’m scared to death.

I wasn’t this scared when I lost my dad, the last person on this earth

who I could rely on.

Is Paul coming back? What if I never see him again?

What if he
does
come back—with
her
?

It’s time to put what I’ve learned into action. I
know
that I can’t just sit around,

waiting, and wondering, being
afraid
of what might, or might not happen.

Like the fears I’ve already faced, and conquered,

I have to face these new ones, head on, and hope that by so doing,

maybe the shadows they are casting in my mind, won’t seem so scary anymore. So, no matter how much it hurts to act, this thing will eat me alive if I don’t take control of my life. It’s about time!

And so, I’m meeting with Barton tonight at six thirty,

to draw up divorce papers. He said he’ll explain what I’ll have to do

if we can’t find Paul to serve them. Taking the bull by the horns . . .

Oh dear God, please help me.

There were no more entries and Paul stared at the page, no longer seeing it, just staring.

Chapter 26

R
hees tossed her fins, mask, and snorkel onto the deck, and pulled herself up the ladder. It surprised her to see so many people still around even though it had to be after five. She confirmed it by checking the borrowed watch on her wrist. The sun would be setting soon.

“Why is everyone still here?” she asked Tracy.

“Still no schedule.”

“Claire said she’d put it—”

“Claire took off, right after Paul showed up.”

Rhees’ heart fell—she’d swear she felt the thunk—low in her gut.
Breathe!
She couldn’t remember how. As if things weren’t bad enough, some of the other people on the deck started chattering, all at once, while pointing to the street. She looked to see what the fuss was all about, just in time to meet Paul’s eyes as he stepped onto the Plank.

“Ah,” she whimpered, because she couldn’t find her voice, or words. She just stared, with her heart hammering away in her chest and her mouth hanging open.

Paul hesitated in his step when their eyes met, but his expression intensified even more. He seemed to need to process that it really was her, but once assured, he quickened his determined pace, bearing toward her.

“I would never want to be you right at this every minute.” Regina took a step back, away from Rhees. “What did you do?”

It took Rhees a second to answer Regina, to process the question, or the fact that Paul had really returned, or take her eyes off him as he pounded his way across the Plank, toward her, mouth taut, jaw set, his hands balled into fists. His eyes bore into her while his body language screamed fury.

Regina took, yet another step back, giving herself a wide berth. The smart girl knew him better than anyone else on the island, besides Rhees.

“Nothing,” Rhees finally squeaked out.

She began backing up, slowly at first, but the closer he got, the faster she moved until she’d backed herself to the corner of the deck, just in time for him to block any hope of a dry escape, if she found herself needing an escape. She glanced down at the water behind her, but the thought of jumping in reminded her of swimming the channel to get away from him. She’d been working on not running away from scary.

She refused to run, and then, with great resentment, asked herself what
he
could possibly be angry about?

“Barton?” he asked incredulously when he reached her, his eyes flashing with anger and exasperation.

She folded her arms, thinking it would make her look less fazed, and hopefully hide her trembling hands from him. She knew of only one reason he could possibly know about Barton and steeled herself with her own indignation.

“Not only did you take off without so much as a word,” she spat out, working hard to keep her voice steady, “you read my journal?”

“Okay,” he stammered, blinking nervously as she’d thrown him off point. “So I won’t be receiving any nominations for Husband of the Year.” He looked contrite, but only briefly, until his anger won over again. “But you didn’t have to go and set an appointment with
Barton
!”

“You left me,” she hissed. “What was I supposed to do?”

Paul’s eyes finally ran down Rhees’ camisole-less, bikini-clad body, and up again. He seemed to lose his train of thought. In the meantime, Tracy had run to get Dobbs.

“Paul,” Dobbs said, casually, coming around the corner. “You’re back.”

Paul ignored him, choosing to loom over Rhees instead, ogling her, acting disoriented.

Seeing Rhees in that white bikini again—Paul didn’t need to see that right now. He rattled his head to shake away the confusion muddling his thoughts. He needed a clear head. He’d learned some things, had a few revelations, come to some conclusions the past four days—the last hour—and he wanted to talk to her about them, alone.

“We need to talk,” he puffed out.

“No,” she whispered back. She looked down, he did too. “You left me. You left me for her. I can’t do this anymore, Paul. It hurts too much. It hurts more than I can bear.”

“But I’m back.” He leaned down, getting in her face so she’d see him when he tried flashing one of his smiles. “Her—what?”

“Ginger, Paul.” Rhees closed her eyes, avoiding his attempt to break her down with his charm. “I saw the email. You read it, and took off . . . to get her back—because she wanted you back.”

Rhees finally looked up at him, her eyes were pooled with tears, and he wondered how they could hold so much without spilling down her cheeks.

“Rhees, Baby.” Paul tried to put his arms around her, but she pushed away.

“Don’t
Baby
me,” she yelled, or whisper yelled, attempting to keep their public conversation private, because everyone in the whole world was standing around, watching.

“Everyone leave,” Paul growled. He turned to glare at them.

“But the schedule,” Tracy said.

“Fu—” He sighed, and toned down his response, trying to let Rhees know he wasn’t wound as tight as she suspected, though he really was. “Forget about the schedule. Tomorrow, we’ll dive in the afternoon. Be here by two, and we’ll work it out then.”

He’d wasted too much time getting that out. Rhees, the only meaningful thing he had in his life, needed his full attention.

“Listen, Baby,” he started.

“I know I said it didn’t matter,” Rhees started over the top of what he was about to say. “But it does, after all. I can’t, Paul. This marriage has been a nightmare—it’s
my
fault, I don’t blame you—but I need to stop this ache in my heart, and I need to stop making you so miserable. I need you to stop trying to change for me—”

“It’s interesting you’d say that,” he chuckled, but he couldn’t help but worry. “That’s exactly what I need to talk to you about.”

Rhees shook her head. Her eyes had finally reached their capacity, and the tears started rolling down her face. He stepped a little closer again, to try and hold her, but like the first attempt, she held her arms out as a barrier.

“Rhees?”

“Paul,” Dobbs said, putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder.

Paul turned to give him the evil eye, but Dobbs didn’t back away.

“Why don’t you give Rhees some time? You took the time you needed to do whatever the hell you took off to do. It’s only fair you give her a little time to settle all this in her mind.”

“Rhees?” Paul begged, and then he desperately grasped at the only thing he had left. “What about the baby?”

He heard a collective gasp from their spectators, and he glanced around again, wondering why they were still there.

“What baby?” Her head popped up and she finally looked him in the eye again. She didn’t look happy. “You got Ginger pregnant?”

“What?” he choked, perplexed. “Ginger? What? You’re not pregnant?” He really wished he could get her alone to talk about everything.

“No!” she answered resentfully, and then, with gritted teeth, asked, “Is Ginger?”

“What does Ginger have to do with anything?” He threw his hands in the air and stared at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about. She turned her back on him, shaking her head like she was disgusted with him.

“Come on, Rhees.” Spurred by sheer desperation, he grabbed for her arm, needing to gain some ground after losing so much of it. “We’re getting out of here so we can talk.”

Dobbs’ hand smacked Paul’s away as the big man stepped between the fighting couple in a threatening manner.

“Let it go, Mate,” Dobbs said.

“I really need you to stay out of this,
Mate
,” Paul said through clenched teeth. His temper had already been knocking against what little reserve he had left.

“She’ll talk to you when she’s good and ready,” Dobbs cooed back, not backing down.

Paul’s mouth opened to say something, but he closed it again, and looked back at Rhees, who’d turned to see the pending brawl between the two men. He figured out that knocking Dobbs into tomorrow wasn’t going to help his case, so he gave up on that idea.

He gave Rhees another disbelieving, desperate look, begging her to walk off with him, but she glanced down, declining his offer with her body language. Paul finally turned away, paused, and then started to walk off, slowly.

The moment he sensed the gathered crowd relax, and start to disperse, he turned again, forged his way back, and before anyone knew what he had planned, he’d pushed Rhees into the water.

Rhees went under, and he watched as she fought her way back up, splashing more than necessary as she broke the surface. She floundered around for a second while seeming to process how she’d ended up in the ocean.

Paul turned and grinned at Dobbs.

“As I was saying,” he said, politely, “I need to have a conversation with my wife.” With that, he dived into the water and came up behind Rhees, slipped an arm around her shoulders, and started dragging her out to Frock.

oOo

For the first two seconds, Rhees considered trying to fight Paul, but she knew him to be too strong a swimmer. She didn’t stand a chance, so she let him drag her farther and farther away from the deck, coughing and sputtering because she’d swallowed water and got some up her nose during her unexpected plunge.

“I told you,” she growled. “I don’t want to hear about you and Ginger.”

“Okay, I won’t talk about me and Ginger.” He kept swimming. “Whatever that has to do with anything, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say.”

With a frustrated growl, she let herself go limp, and allowed him to drag her along to his heart’s content. He reached Frock and planted his feet solidly on the cement block below, turning her to face him.

“Hang on to me. You’re too short to touch,” he said.

She gave him a defiant look, and tried to put her feet down anyway. He let his eyes roll up to watch the reddening, evening sky for a few seconds, impatiently waiting for her to figure out he was right. On tippy-toes, her face broke the surface, but the gentle swells lapped against her nose, making her panic to catch each breath.

“Are you done?” he asked while arching a brow, and held out his hand for her to grab.

She didn’t waste time grabbing for it, and she used it to pull herself closer so she could hook an arm around his neck. He put his hands around her waist and closed his eyes with a contented sigh. She didn’t like that she’d given him that, but breathing was more important than her dignity at the moment.

“That feels good,” he said quietly, his eyes still closed. “I’ve missed you.”

“Huh,” was all she gave him, and he opened his eyes to look at her, probably to assess his strategy.

“Rhees, I don’t want a divorce.”

“Neither do I, but . . . I love you too much to keep making you so miserable.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” He shook his head.

“I told you this would happen,” she started. “You’ve never wanted to get married, but for some reason, we did anyway, and I’ve done nothing but make you miserable since.”

“That’s not true.”

“You can’t lie about this one. I was there, remember?”

“Where is this coming from? Wait—” The crease between his brows grew deeper. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s my fault. I should have told you about my past—”

“This has nothing to do with your past,” he cut her off. “This is about me being an idiot. I held you to an impossible standard, I know that, now. Not even you could have lived up to that. I pulled the Weaver family expectation card on you, but now that I know that, I won’t let it happen again, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand a word you just said.”

“I know. You missed an important session with Keene.”

Rhees pursed her mouth into a tight line.

“Not Keene again,” she jeered. She rued the day she ever met the good Dr. Keene. “That’s it. I’m suing him for breaking up this marriage. He filled your head with a bunch of crap that has nothing to do with us, but you’d rather hang on to every word he said than believe anything
I’m
trying to tell you.”

“I did that too. I’m sorry.”

“You’re saying that a lot, again.”

“You want a list?” Paul smiled, attempting humor to diffuse her anger, as usual. She knew he was referring to his first try at an apology, on Duna Caye. “So you can decide which, of all my blunders, you’ll forgive me for?”

“You, trying to be cute, is not going to work this time. This is too serious.”

“I am cute, no trying required.” He tilted his head, flashing her one of his best smiles. She had to look away to avoid the temptation to smile back, and to plant her mouth on the gorgeous lips she’d missed.

“Here goes. I’m going to work my way backward. First, I’m sorry I pushed you into the water. I’m sorry for reacting with anger, to your . . .” His brows furrowed again, thinking about what she planned to do. He thanked God he made it back before she had a chance to follow through with it.

“To your ap-point-ment—” His lips popped on the P’s and T’s, venting the lingering anger he still felt about it. “With Bar-ton.” He popped the T again, giving her a stern glare.

“I thought this was an apology.”

“Just promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I’m not promising anything,” she snapped and they stared each other down. Paul gave in first, he rarely gave in first, but Rhees looked so fierce and unforgiving, he didn’t dare push it.

“Okay. Where was I?” He reeled in his negative emotions, setting himself back on track. “I’m sorry I read your journal. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner, but I didn’t dare come back until I knew for sure, but then I ended up staying an extra day, and when I finally realized I had to get back, I couldn’t get a flight that wouldn’t miss the three o’clock plane—”

“You took the ferry?”

“No. I chartered a private plane. I wanted to get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” He snorted a laugh.

“Because Ginger refused to take you back, after all.”

Paul ran through his facial routine, trying to come up with possible reasons why Rhees suddenly seemed so obsessed with Ginger. He thought back to the day he’d run off. He’d been on a whirlwind of a ride since that day, and he’d almost forgotten why he left in the first place, but now, he remembered clearly.

The look on Rhees’ face came to mind, when he first realized she’d witnessed him in one of his, not-so-fine moments, smashing everything in sight—the way she stood there—shocked, bewildered,
frightened.