Page 90 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

“Okay,” she whispered. “We have to take the water… and the paintings.”

“Paintings?” I stopped, looking down at her.

She only nodded.

Carefully, I lowered her back onto the ground and stepped over to collect the scrolls and her bag. I slung the bag over my shoulder, its strap digging into me beneath the weight of water, then handed her the scrolls.

She wrapped both arms around them, holding them tightly against her chest.

I knelt in front of her once more, lifted her back into my arms, and carried her towards the lighthouse.

I couldn’t sleep. My eyes stayed fixed on her limp body lying on the floor, her injured foot wrapped in the stitches I’d managed to do after we came back. She was so weak, drifting in and out of sleep while a cold sheen of sweat gathered across her forehead.

“Olly,” she whispered. “Can you hold me?”

“Yes.”

I moved to her side and lay down beside her. She turned her back to me, and I rested my face against her shoulder as she curled into me. My arms slipped around her.

“I remembered something today,” she murmured. “Something your mum said to me when I was eight.”

“Yes?” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“She said I’m her blue, and that when she leaves, she’ll be at peace because I’ll be with you.” She pulled my hand to her face, holding it there as if it were the only thing keeping her at peace.

A tear slipped down my cheek. She had accepted her long before either of us could have imagined we’d end up here, stranded together.

“She loved you,” she whispered. “And I know you still can’t forgive me for keeping it from you, that I knew about my mum and your dad. But I was only ten when I figured it out.”

“I know.” The words came quietly, finally giving in. “It’s not your fault.”

I’d known that all along. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it. But somewhere along the way, when I finally let my heart care about her, my mind stopped fighting it.

“If we ever get back, if Gianni is still alive,” she murmured, “do you think he knows about your dad?”

“I don’t know. And I still can’t wrap my head around something Bianchi said the night of the shipwreck.”

“You saw him?” she asked.

“When I found you lying on the kitchen floor, I knew they had to be on the yacht. I went to the bridge to confront him, and he told me about Gianni and my dad.” I let out a slow breath. “I don’t know what to believe, Blue. But I know something has been going on for years, and none of it has anything to do with you or me. I want to write our story somewhere far away from our fucked up family.”

“Do you think they’re worried about us?” she breathed. “You know… your dad and my mum.”

“No,” I said, leaning closer to her. “I think they’re too selfish to even realize we’re gone.”

I lowered my face to hers.

“Do you ever think about having a family of your own?”

“I was always too busy worrying about everyone else to think about being with someone,” she said, slowly turning towards me. Her gaze dropped to my chest. She gripped the collar of my shirt before lifting her eyes to mine. “I’m too afraid to have kids because I don’t want them to carry the trauma my mother left me with.”

Tears came to her eyes.

“I don’t want them to become broken versions of me, unable to live the life they deserve. Or worse, a life I couldn’t give them.”

I kissed her forehead, then brushed my lips over the bridge of her nose.

“You would never be like your mother,” I said. “And I’m sorry I ever said that to you. I only wanted to hurt you because you’d hurt me.”