It’s all I can do to jerk the door open and climb inside the cab of the truck. My heart is racing, and I feel like I’m choking on air. Wow, this is all hitting me all at once. My body is a swirling vortex of thoughts and emotions.
“Good morning,” comes a deep voice.
Ilmari sits behind the wheel, his blond hair tied up in a knot. He wears a T-shirt and shorts like it’s not January and 55 degrees outside. Apparently, Finnish hockey players can’t feel the cold. Meanwhile, my tits are freezing. I should have added another layer.
I pull the door shut and drop my backpack down between my feet, choking on a sob. I can’t cry in front of this man. Not again. Losing it on him the other night was bad enough. Jake is still walking around on eggshells like he’s afraid I’ll crack. He keeps offering me ice cream.
Ilmari’s eyes go wide. “Tess, what—”
“Drive,” I gasp, flailing wildly for my seatbelt as tears fill my vision.
“Tess—”
“Ilmari, drive!”
He doesn’t push me again; he just shifts the truck into reverse and pulls out of the driveway. In moments, we’re meandering through his quiet neighborhood, his gaze locked on the road.
I switch between crying and sucking down air as my phone buzzes in my pocket with more missed calls. I can’t stand the feel of it touching me. It’s as unwanted as Troy’s actual physical touch. Even from such a distance, he can still force his way on me.
Jerking the phone from my pocket, I drop it down into the cupholder where it continues to softly buzz. The sound is muted by the truck’s engine and the quiet hum of the radio.
“When you’re ready,” Ilmari says, still not looking my way.
We drive for a few minutes in silence. He turns left out of his neighborhood, headed for the beach. We’re meeting his crew this morning, the three volunteers that form the core of his nonprofit. I can’t face them if I’m a sobbing mess. I have to let this go. I have to give it a voice.
“She looks like her,” I say at last. “I remembered seeing her on beach day, but she had a big hat and the kids and the dogs. I didn’t focus on it too much then. But this morning she really did look just like her. It took me by surprise is all,” I finish, sniffing back my tears.
“O’Sullivan’s wife. She was at the house,” Ilmari intuits.
I nod, dropping my hands to my lap as I recover my breathing.
After a minute of silence, he asks the obvious next question. “Who does she look like?”
“My husband’s secretary,” I reply, my mind flooding with the memories I try so hard to keep locked away. “They had an affair for almost a year. I caught them together…more than once. By the end, they weren’t even trying to hide from me.”
Candace was only the first woman I caught him with but there were so many others.
The silence stretches between us as my phone continues to buzz in the cupholder.
“Is his infidelity the reason your marriage ended?” Ilmari asks.
“One of the many reasons,” I admit. “It certainly sped things along.”
Ilmari glances down to my buzzing phone. “Your phone is ringing.”
“I know,” I reply, gazing resolutely out the windshield as I watch the palm trees flash by.
“It’s him,” Ilmari intuits again.
“Yes.”
“Rachel told me today might be difficult for you, though she didn’t say why. She’s given me strict instructions to bring you home with me.”
“I’m fine, Mars,” I reply with a weak smile.
He flicks on his turn signal, following the signs for the beach. “Fine you may be, but I do as I’m told. You’re not leaving my sight until I deposit you safely in my wife’s arms.”
I close my eyes, breathing deep. I know with a surety marrow-deep that this is why I got on a plane to Jacksonville. I wanted to be close to Rachel as I made this leap. I wanted to freefall knowing someone would brave any element to catch me. Rachel will do anything for the ones she loves, just like me.
But now she has three men to catch her from falling. Ilmari Price doesn’t take leaps of faith. He is the steadfast rock that moves but is never shaken. Same with Caleb. Jake might be more of a cliff jumper at heart, but even then, I’d rather know he’s at my side, helping me swim back to shore.
I’m safe here with Rachel. I’m safe with her husbands. I’m safe with the Rays. I’ve set all the pieces of wood on this bonfire. Signing the divorce papers and delivering them to Troy was the kerosene. It’s time to light the match.
I turn to face Ilmari. It feels oddly right that it be him. My quiet protector. I want to stand now in the shadow of his strength.
“Hey, Mars, will you do something for me?”
He glances my way, keeping one eye on the road. “What?”
Slowly, I reach forward and pick up my phone. A half-dozen missed calls and a string of text messages light up the screen. Troy is in rare form this morning, desperate to hurl his insults and cut me down.
I hold out the phone towards Ilmari. “When this rings again, will you answer it?”
He glances down at it with a frown. “Why is he calling you?”
“Because before I left, I signed divorce papers,” I reply. “A courier delivered them to him this morning.”
His brow furrows. “I thought you were living apart. Years, it’s been. That’s what Rachel told us.”
“Yeah, it’s been three years since we shared any semblance of a life or a marriage.”
“And yet you stayed married to him. Why?”
“It’s complicated,” I reply. “Mostly it was about his family, about making them happy…and about my fear of abandonment. Plus, it didn’t seem important to have a formal dissolution so long as we were cordial with each other.”
“So, what changed?”
Ilmari’s good at this. He’s careful with his words and he doesn’t look my way, giving me the space to answer or not, and in my time. I’m usually the kind of person that seeks to fill an awkward silence, but with Ilmari I find myself wanting to lean into it.
“I think I changed,” I reply, giving him the simple truth. “Through every stage of our relationship, I was always the one changing. I changed to please him so many times. I changed my habits and my likes, my sense of humor. Hell, I even changed my coffee order. I’m not even convinced I like coffee. I drink it because he does,” I finish with a shrug.
We’re both quiet for another minute.
“And now?”
I let out a breath. “And now I’ve changed again. I’m stronger, I think. Resigned to my fate.”
“And what fate is that?”
“To survive,” I reply.
“What does that mean?”
“Not everyone is meant to thrive, Ilmari. Some of us are born merely to endure. It took falling in love with Troy and falling back out again to realize how adept I am at survival. And I want it, Mars,” I whisper, heart in my throat. “I want to survive on my terms and by my strength. Troy wanted me to think I was weak. He wanted me to be malleable clay he could make and remake in his image.”
Ilmari glances my way. “And are you that clay, Tess?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
Taking a deep breath, I hold it in my lungs, letting it fill me. “I am the fire that forges the clay into something stronger.”
Ilmari is quiet as he considers my words. At last, he glances my way and says, “It sounds to me like you need to answer the phone for yourself.”
As if on cue, the phone begins buzzing in my hand. I glance down to see the name on my caller ID: DEVIL SPAWN.
“What will you do?” Ilmari asks, his tone so calm and quiet.
I gaze down at the phone, feeling the buzz of it in my hand. “I should answer it. I should let him have his say, right? That’s all he ever wants is the last word. He can scream at me and rage, and then we can be done with it. He won’t sign otherwise. He’ll never let go if he thinks I’m somehow winning in all this.”
“So, you want to answer the phone,” Ilmari summarizes.
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to answer. I don’t care if we never speak again. He’s a monster, and his words are nothing but poison.”
“I think you may be overlooking one of the important nuances of human communication,” he replies.
I glance his way, the phone still buzzing in my hand. “What?”
Ilmari just shrugs, his gaze on the road. “No answer is still an answer.”
I let that truth sink deep. No answer is still an answer. I don’t want to answer my phone. I don’t have to answer my phone. So, I won’t.
Breathless with nerves, I jam my thumb down on the automatic window switch. The tinted window rolls halfway down, and the cab of the truck is suddenly blasted with icy air as we climb the bridge stretching across the water. With a shriek, I fling the buzzing phone out the open window, watching it sail over the guardrail and out of sight.
I’m on autopilot as I roll the window back up and turn slowly to look out the front. I can still feel the chill of the wind on my face. “There,” I say at last. “He has his answer.”
Reaching across the center console, Ilmari pats my arm. “Good girl.”
I let out my breath, shoulders sagging, as fresh tears sting my eyes. But these aren’t tears of feeling anxious or trapped. These are happy tears. I feel giddy, like I swallowed a freaking rainbow. Troy will likely find a way to make me pay, but in this moment, I swear to God I don’t care. In this moment, I’m free.
I place my hand over Ilmari’s on my arm. “So, tell me about these sea turtles. Have you ever actually seen one?”
