Once Upon an Island

I press my hand to my stomach when I realize the implications. If I tell Declan tomorrow, or even a week from now, that I’ve changed my mind and suddenly realized I love him, what will he think?

He’ll think the only logical thing.

That I’ve been swayed by his estate, his wealth…that I’m exactly what he first believed. A gold digger.

No wonder he left in such a hurry.

I would’ve run too.

There’s no way he could think that my being here was a coincidence. No, it was just me, checking out the prospects.

Seeing what he had to offer.

I climb into the car.

Arya sits up. “Have a good time?”

“It was great,” I say woodenly.

The knowledge of love is heavy and uncomfortable. No wonder Arya turned into a tragic gothic heroine. Love feels awful.

I look down at my hand and run my fingers over where Declan touched me.

The entire ride home Harriet regales us with stories of university politics.

I nod, make innocuous comments, and torture myself with thoughts of what could have been.