But then she said, “So?”
And I looked up again, my brow raised, even though I knew exactly what she wanted. She’d have to ask. If she were going to be so ballsy, she couldn’t just hint around about it. She’d have to come right out and ask.
And she did. “Can I have them back?”
I considered telling her I’d dumped them already. The lie would be easier. But, instead, I just said, “No.”
“Ha ha. Funny.”
I let her laugh. Because why wouldn’t she? I’d never stood up to her like this before. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d stood up to her ever.
But when she’d finished her chuckle, I made sure I was completely somber when I said, “I’m not joking. I mean no. You can’t have them.”
She pulled her hand from my lap. “You can’t keep them. They’re mine.”
“No. Actually, they’re not. And if you want to refute this with a third party, we can take this up with Reeve.” I was surprised at the confident sound of authority in my tone. And proud.
Amber twisted and sat back in her lounger, her knees up and her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re on his side. Typical.”
Maybe I’d given her too much credit when I’d thought of her as a teenager. This behavior was much less mature. “I’m not on his side, Amber. I’m on your side.”
“I don’t know what the hell crack you’re smoking, but whatever side you’re on, it’s definitely not my side.”
“Then I’m on my side. For once.” I stood up, needing the composure that towering over her gave. “I don’t want you to have those drugs. I don’t want you to destroy yourself little by little, and I don’t want you to have the option just in case. Because that would hurt me. A lot.”
She glowered off in the distance, her lips shaped into a pout.
I hated it – hated her being unhappy, hated her being displeased. At me.
But I resisted the urge to run to my room and dig out the bottles from my luggage so I could return them to her and beg for her forgiveness. I’d done that for far too long. It was past time that ended.
“Go ahead and be mad at me if you want,” I said, feeling more courageous as the seconds passed, “but you should remember that this is who you wanted me to be. When you let me go all those years ago, this is who you created. Someone who can stand up for herself.” Sure it had taken until just now to get there, but I still counted it. “If you were expecting anything else, I’m sorry to disappoint.”
She continued to mope. She continued to ignore me.
The longer I stood there, the more my anger dissolved into something kinder, something less assertive. I needed to get out of there. “I’m going to go for a run.” Again, I waited for her to respond. “Amber?”
Finally she glanced up. “What? Do you need permission?”
“I need to know that we’re okay.” But I already sensed that it was a pointless question to ask. We’d been far from okay for quite some time.
With the tightest smile imaginable, she said, “As okay as ever.”
Yeah. Exactly.
I’d been out on a few runs since we’d arrived at the island, and I already had a course that I preferred. I’d discovered it when I’d gone exploring one of our first days on Oinopa. The trail began on the estate’s lower grounds, an area accessible down a set of stairs leading down from each of the courtyards. The lower level of the compound was practically a resort in itself. There were tennis courts and stables, as well as a lush tropical garden featuring a fountain with freshwater fish. Our compound prison certainly had plenty to keep us entertained, but, since Amber seemed uninterested in much besides laying poolside, I hadn’t utilized many of the amenities.
The unpaved trail off the garden, however, was a perfect place to have time alone. The difficult course – down the side of the mountain and back up – kept my thoughts at bay. I had to concentrate on my rhythm and form to have any chance of finishing the five-mile loop in a semi-decent time.
Usually, the run cleared my head and improved my attitude, at least enough to return to being civil. Today, I was in just as bad a mood when I’d finished as when I’d started. So instead of going back up to the house, I decided to venture down another path, hidden with foliage beyond the garden fountain.
The trail wound through dense tropical trees for no more than a quarter mile before opening up to a small clearing with a stone seating area and a fire pit. At the far end of the stretch, the hillside dropped dramatically. It was a serenely beautiful location. The kind of spot that lent itself to meditating or reading. And it was romantic – secluded and quiet. Perfect for a picnic or a roll in the grass.
It was so charmingly peaceful that I wasn’t even bothered by the thought of Reeve there with past lovers. Or, not that bothered, anyway.
Maybe it was better not to think about that.
I walked to the ledge instead, braced my hands on the security railing, and took in the view of the ocean below. The craggy cliffside dropped fifty feet or so, ending in sharp pointed rocks that jutted into the water. To one side, a sandy beach stretched out for as far as the eye could see. Late morning fog clung to the mountain wall just beneath me. It felt spectacular, if not a little overwhelming, to be that high, like being on top of the world. A breeze blew across my face and the smell of sea hit my nose, and I wondered how it was possible to be this alive in the world and yet feel so alone. How it was possible to recognize there was so much beauty in everything and yet not feel part of it at all.