Page 70 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

I turned towards the stairs, certain the breeze had come from that direction, and noticed the stone steps were wet, glistening in the dim light. Whoever had built them had fastened a thin iron railing into the cave wall, just sturdy enough to grip as you climbed.

I stood up, my bare feet slipping as loose pebbles skittered beneath them while I struggled towards the staircase. When I reached the first step, my hand wrapped around the railing, and I slowly began to climb. Another cold gust swept over me, this time urging me further up the stairs.

I swallowed the hard lump lodged in my throat and kept climbing until I reached the top. There was no door, only a hole in the ground for an easier way down. I would’ve bet this was how people once reached the island, since the small beach inside the cave was the only place without cliffs and the jagged underwater reef that would tear ships apart.

Planting a hand on the ground, my eyes still stinging with tears and words that refused to leave my throat, I pulled myself up.

In front of me stretched nothing but a meadow scattered with rocks. And behind me, tall cliffs that hid the cave beneath them. Somewhere nearby, I heard the gentle murmur of a rill and slowly headed to the right.

A sharp gust shoved against me, pushing me away from it, as though it didn’t want me going in that direction. Fresh water would be a good sign, though. A narrow path disappeared into the wooded part of the island, yet there was no sign of the rill there. Still, I followed it, my feet carrying me against the warning the wind seemed determined to give.

It had been almost three hours since Oliver left, and with every passing minute, my hope of him coming back sank deeper, along with any hope of ever leaving this place. If I wanted to survive, I had to take fate into my own hands.

Less than a minute later, I found the rill.

I hurried over the rocks that formed a shallow, rounded basin, collecting the water inside. It looked as though someone had shaped this place to be lived in, only to abandon it for reasons I couldn’t understand.

My knees gave way, and I dropped onto the rocks. One hand steadied me against the stone wall while the other slipped into the water. It was icy against my skin. Above me, the sun was finally breaking free of the clouds, its warmth creeping across the clearing. After finishing the small juice Oliver had given me in three desperate gulps, the cold water felt like heaven.

Scooping it into my palms, I splashed it over my cheeks, then my chest and arms. A few drops ran over my lips. I caught them with my tongue and knew instantly it was fresh water.

The thirst clawing at my throat didn’t care about bacteria or whatever else might be hiding in it. All I wanted was something cold to drink and a patch of shade in the woods behind me.

I dipped my hands into the basin again, filled my palms, and brought the water to my mouth. I drank until it slipped down my throat.

Leaning back against the stone, I lifted my eyes to the sky.

I had no idea what time it was. All I knew was that I was supposed to be on a yacht for a week, and instead I was stranded on a secluded island with a man I couldn’t stand. If it ever came down to it, I would gladly push him off a cliff and watch him drown.

I closed my eyes for just a moment, catching my breath after everything that had happened, letting my soul rest from all the tears and all the loss. My chest felt numb, and my throat still burned from the salt water I had swallowed the night before. My lungs still carried its sting, as though they hadn’t managed to wash it away.

I had wanted to leave Amalfi so badly, and now that the universe had given me exactly that, I still wasn’t at peace. Maybe we’re destined to stay in one place until we find ourselves, so that when we finally move somewhere else, we’re capable of being happy. But at this point, I had forgotten what happiness even felt like.

A scream came through the distance, making me stand upright.

Then came the unmistakable sound of my own name.

“Gabriella.”

I knew it was Oliver. There was no one else on this island.

Still, I stayed where I was, wrapped in my numbness. If he wanted to find me so badly, he could search for me.

“Please, Gabriella,” I heard him call again, his voice much closer this time. “Where are you?”

He was swearing, cursing, shouting until his voice cracked. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d even care if I died here on this rock. Would he even blink after everything he’d said to me? I knew I’d kept it all to myself, but how was I supposed to tell him anything when he was angry with me all the time?

And then there was what he’d said about Gianni being his father’s son. The thought turned my stomach. It meant my mother had lied to my father, too. She’d lied for two years while Gianni lived under his roof as his son. Then she had me, and everyone who knew us always said I was the spitting image of my father. No one ever said that about him.

It made me wonder how he felt. How he knew Father favored me until the day he left. And when he did, Gianni accepted it far easier than I ever could.

Growing up without a father left a scar that never really healed. I searched for him in every face I met, but no one was ever enough. He was everything to me, and the little girl inside me still craved the love he never gave.

I grew up clinging to the fantasy that he might come back one day, but with every year that passed that hope faded.

And now, knowing Gianni had our father beside him all that time without even realizing it, while still hoping that one day ours would come back, broke my heart a little more.

I miss him.