Chapter 26 "I thought I lost you," Ashley cries, her voice cracking. She grips me like she's afraid I'll disappear again, and I fight every instinct in my muscles to do just that. The contact is awkward and forced on my end, but the guilt of feeling that way is enough to keep my arms awkwardly around her. "I'm okay," I murmur, but I'll be the first to admit, the words are empty. They're a comfort to a fellow human being, and no more. For thirteen days, Ashley didn't even cross my mind. Not when I was fishing for our next meal. Not when Avery and I were laughing under the stars. Not when we were tangled together, finding comfort we didn't know we needed. And I know right now, as I can't help but search for Avery over the top of Ashley's head, that's never going to change. It might make me the biggest asshole on the planet, but as soon as I find an appropriately private moment, I have to cut Ashley loose. It's a little cruel-but not nearly as bad as making her think there's something here to hold on to when, to me, there isn't. "You scared me so much," Ashely whispers, pulling back to look at me. Her mascara is streaked, and her eyes are red and puffy. She's beautiful, despite the despair, but she's not Avery. Not even close. "I'm sorry," I manage, though it's not enough, and it probably never will be. Whether I like it or not, at the end of today, I will be the villain in Ashley's story. I own that. "Man, look at you." Ronnie shakes his head, grinning, before giving my shoulder a hearty pat. I welcome the distance it makes Ashley give me, if temporarily. "You're, like, actually alive." "Right?" Maverick smirks. "It feels like a fucking miracle. Thought we'd be telling your story on a podcast by now...maybe even get a Netflix doc out of it." "You two with a podcast?" I snort, my lips twitching upward despite the weight on my chest. "Really?" "Hey, it's the age of content," Ronnie says, shrugging. "Might as well capitalize." "Hell yeah," Mav chimes in. "Plus, Ronnie has that Theo Von vibe, you know? The wild shit that comes out of his mouth would be sound-bite heaven." I laugh. "Well, sorry I've ruined your big ticket to fame." "It's okay," Maverick says, clapping me on the shoulder. "I think I'd rather have you here than be catapulted into the spotlight and make millions of dollars and shit." "You think, or you know?" I question, an eyebrow quirking. Mav just shrugs. "Just give me another day or two to ponder it." I laugh. "Oh, I see how it is." Ronnie cracks up and wraps his arm around my shoulder to jostle me back and forth a little. "Really? I'm not sure you can see at all. I mean, you look like total shit, dude." He shakes his head, pretending to be embarrassed. I snort. "Yeah. I don't smell so great either." These guys are the closest thing I have to family now, aside from Avery and the Bankses. Ashley tries to comfort me by telling me I look rugged, but I just shrug it off. I know Avery thinks the way I look and smell is just fine, which is really all that matters to me. I spot her, standing in another tight circle of hugs and tears and smiles with her family. It's exactly how it should be, and yet a pang of loneliness twists in my chest. "You okay, man?" Maverick asks, his brow furrowing. "Yeah," I say quickly, brushing it off. "Just tired." "Of course you're tired," Ashley says, having to remind me of her presence yet again, and wraps her arms around my waist. "I'm just so happy you're here, Henry. So happy you're safe." Avery's head tilts as she says something to Beau, her smile faint but genuine. She looks safe. She looks...loved. It makes my chest ache and settle all at once, even with some meathead douchecanoe standing next to her. Justin, I have to assume. The guy's tall and decent-looking, with an earnest expression that grates on my nerves. I can handle the opportunists and the good-time chasers-but a guy who seems like he sincerely cares about her can fuck right off. That's my job. It's a crazy, unbidden thought, but I'll be fucked in the head if it isn't true. The man who got on that plane is not the same man I am now, and I don't give a shit. I don't want to go back. Justin holds her hand, his body angled toward hers like he's staking a claim, and something cold and sharp knots in my stomach. Desperate for an escape, I move my attention to Beau, redirecting my focus. He's walking over, his expression tired but relieved. "How you holding up?" he asks when he arrives at our little huddle, pulling me into a quick hug and relieving me of Ashley's hold once again. "I'm doing good," I lie. "I mean, I'm here, right?" "Damn right, you are," Beau says, clapping me on the shoulder. "How's Avery?" I question, unable to hold back my curiosity. "She's good. A little rattled, maybe." Beau laughs. "I can't be sure, but I swear her boyfriend almost proposed to her. Which would be fucking wild because my parents didn't know jack shit about him. Frankly, the only reason I knew anything was because Avery tells June everything." "He was going to propose?" My stomach sinks, then flares with something that feels a lot like jealousy. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" "Dude, I don't know," Beau says, shaking his head. "All I know is he got down on one knee, and then Avery told him to stop." Before I can respond with a fist pump or scream into the ether, a Coast Guard officer approaches, a clipboard in hand and his eyes on me. "Mr. Callahan?" "Yes," I say, giving Beau a jerk of my chin before stepping away. The officer nods toward a man in scrubs standing nearby. "This is Dr. Matthews. You'll have to go to the hospital for evaluation, as it's standard protocol after an extended survival situation. He'll travel with you to a private wing, and those police officers behind him will escort you until you're there for security purposes." Security purposes. Like I'm some kind of A-lister or politician. It sounds absolutely ridiculous on the surface, but seeing as the press hasn't stopped taking pictures since we got here, I guess it isn't a bad idea. I glance back at Ronnie and Maverick, then at Beau, who gives me a small nod. "Go," he says. "We'll catch up later." My gaze drifts to Avery one last time. She's still with her family, her arm looped through June's as her dad rubs her back. Justin stands a few feet away, looking like a kicked puppy. Avery's expression softens as she glances my way, and for a moment, our eyes meet. My chest tightens, the need to be close to her omnipresent. "Mr. Callahan?" the coastguardsman asks again. "Yeah," I say, tearing my gaze away. "Let's go." The good thing about protocol is that it leaves very little room for exceptions. If I'm required to go to the hospital, so is Avery. And maybe, just maybe, we'll be away from prying eyes long enough for me to talk to her.