Stranded With Her Ex. Jill Sorenson
“Give each other dark, brooding looks and talk outside?”
“No,” Taryn admitted. “They acted like best pals until…”
You came. Daniela knew what she’d been about to say.
Terrific. One afternoon on the island, and she was like a disease.
“This is the bathroom,” Taryn said brightly, opening a door on the right side. It was small and dreary, with old-fashioned fixtures and a plain white sink. “The downstairs toilet flushes better, but this one works if you have to pee in the middle of the night. And here is the ever-popular shower.” She slid open the frosted glass door, inclining her slender arm with the panache of a television model.
Daniela peered into the putty-colored stall. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean. “Jason said there’s no hot water?”
“It comes and goes. Tricky pipes. We take turns and hope for the best. Sometimes I have to heat a pot of water on the stove to wash with. Of course, the boys don’t seem to mind being grungy.” She wrinkled her adorable, sun-kissed nose. “Soon, we’ll have more rainwater. We cache it in the cistern and use it for the rest of the year.”
Daniela nodded. Working in the field meant dealing with whatever conditions were available. Running water, at any temperature, was a luxury.
Taryn continued the tour, opening the first door on the left. “This is us. Brent’s room is the next one down. Jason and Sean are there, on the opposite side. And Elizabeth is the last door on the right.”
The room was sparsely furnished, boasting a set of bunk beds, a small desk and one ladder-backed chair. She frowned, confused by the sight of her duffel bag on the lower bunk. “This is…our room?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind. Elizabeth likes to keep to herself, but I prefer having a roommate.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Just between you and me, it gets kind of spooky around here at night.”
Daniela fell silent, wondering if Sean was Taryn’s preferred roommate. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping with her. At least, not here. Daniela should have been too tired to speculate. All she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes for a few minutes.
Taryn paused at the doorway, nibbling at her lower lip. “I thought I should let you know that you don’t have to pretend like nothing happened. It must be exhausting, putting on a polite smile for strangers.”
Daniela gave her a blank stare.
“Sean told me about the baby,” she explained.
The blood drained from her face. “He did?”
“Well, yeah. We’ve discussed it several times, actually. And I was here the night he got the phone call about the accident. So I knew already.”
“You were here,” she repeated, her mind going numb. “With him.”
“Yes. It was pretty awful, watching him go through that. The Coast Guard wouldn’t make a special trip, so he had to wait until the next morning to go back to the mainland. He wanted to take the whaler—alone, with no lights or navigation system, when it was pitch black out.” She shook her head, disturbed by the memory. “It was too dangerous, of course, so we couldn’t let him. He stayed up all night, pacing the living room, practically going crazy.”
Daniela felt her throat tighten. She couldn’t imagine Sean acting that way. He was always strong, sensible and calm.
She was the one who panicked, paced rooms and went crazy.
Taryn gave Daniela a closer inspection, frowning at her bewildered expression. “You didn’t know?”
“I knew he was here….”
Thankfully, Taryn didn’t press for more details. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss. I know Sean’s all torn up about it, too.”
“He told you that?”
She blinked her wide blue eyes. “Well, sure. Who wouldn’t be?”
Daniela remained silent, unable to answer. Sean hadn’t discussed any of his feelings with her. He’d never let her know what he’d gone through that night, never told her how he was dealing with the death of their child. And she’d never asked.
She’d been too busy falling apart.
Daniela wasn’t able to comfort Sean in his time of need, or even accept his comfort. After she’d come home from the hospital, she’d been an emotional wreck. Every time he’d tried to reach out to her, she shrank away.
So instead of confiding in her, he’d turned to Taryn. Beautiful, fun-loving, easy-going Taryn.
What man wouldn’t be tempted by a knockout blonde?
Taryn glanced around the room. “If you don’t need anything else—”
“I just want to be left alone,” Daniela said coldly.
Taryn’s brow furrowed. She was pretty, but far from dumb. Behind her perfect features and pleasant smile, a not-so-sweet personality lurked. Daniela saw a hard-edged intelligence and a hint of dislike.
“Of course,” she said, nodding. Her mouth twisted, making her look even less like a bubbleheaded college student and more like a woman who knew her own mind. Turning, she left the room without another word.
Daniela fell back on the bed the instant she closed the door. Snubbing Taryn hadn’t made her feel any better. She wasn’t a vindictive person, and she didn’t enjoy hearing about Sean in pain. But she was shocked by the news that he’d opened up to Taryn, after being unable to share his feelings with her.
She hadn’t felt this bitter since he’d filed for divorce.
“Damn you,” she whispered, punching the pillow beside her. She wasn’t sure whom she was angrier with, Sean or herself. She was the one who’d had the emotional breakdown. She was the one who’d driven him away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, bombarded by images of the past and flashes from today. Grinding metal and gnashing teeth.
No one understood, but the least of her worries was personal injury. After spending those agonizing moments trapped in a crushed vehicle, eight months pregnant and literally bleeding to death, she was afraid of confinement and pain.
But her greatest fear, by far, was loss.
Losing their daughter, never experiencing the miracle of her birth, being robbed of her first smiles and first steps and first words…
It was a thousand times more traumatic than any amount of physical distress.
Feeling the agony wash over her, again and again, Daniela curled up in a little ball on the lower bunk, and, pressing her hands to her now-flat stomach, began to cry.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Avoiding Jason’s question, Sean shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the day fade away, contemplating this crux of his life.
The last rays of sunlight stretched out across the water, hitting the chop and bathing the rippled surface with golden tips. At Skull Rock, only one eye was still visible, glittering darkly, like a demon waiting for the cover of night.
Before Daniela’s accident, he’d loved this place.
He’d been fascinated with sharks ever since he was a kid. Point Reyes, his hometown, was just north of San Francisco, in the heart of the Red Triangle. The area encompassed a portion of the California coast, including the Farallon Islands, and boasted more fatal shark attacks on humans than anywhere else in the world.
The summer he turned fifteen, his parents separated, and Sean moved to San Diego with his dad, but he never forget his idyllic childhood in Point Reyes, those halcyon days before the divorce. They’d lived just blocks from the beach, and he and his dad had gone surfing together damn near every day.
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