We shared the same last name through some twisty cliffhanger of fate.
But we weren’t blood, no matter how much I wished it.
Our future was changing and the power I had over our destinies was no longer in effect.
I was once again just a songwriter without a pen to write.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
“I CAN’T BELIEVE it.”
My father’s arms (the same arms I never thought I’d feel outside prison again) wrapped tight around me.
I was free.
Free.
How?
I still didn’t know.
“Did you do it?” I asked, pulling away from his embrace.
I’d been told I looked a lot like my father, but I had some of my mother, too. I’d inherited my height from him and my colouring and possibly his eyes.
Those eyes now brimmed with tears. “No. I mean...I’ve tried, Gal. So bloody long, I’ve tried. I’ve drawn up affidavits. I’ve begged for a new hearing. But nothing came of it. Not until I got the phone call.”
“What phone call?”
“The one saying they’d charged the wrong killer.”
“But, Dad. I’m the killer.”
My father slung his arm around my shoulders, leading me from the prison gates. “We both know that, but someone...someone knew that too and decided to save you. It’s a miracle, Gal. And I’m going to find the man who did this and worship him for being so damn kind.”
.............................
SHE’D TOLD ME she would be there for me.
She didn’t lie.
I opened my eyes, and there she was. Coco dangled asleep in her arms while my woman watched me with such concentration, I felt as if she’d yanked me from my dream with pure willpower.
Pippa stood behind her, her lips parting into a smile.
Estelle clapped a hand over her mouth as our eyes met.
Tears leaked unnoticed down her cheeks.
My emotions crested and crashed, threatening to wash me away after clinging so tightly to the rock of life.
“You’re awake,” she whispered. “You’re finally here.”
“I—” I spluttered. My dry throat was out of practice. The more I woke, the weaker I became. My scratchy throat was the least of my issues. My toes tingled and limbs ached as if I’d run for weeks with no rest.
But it didn’t matter.
Estelle gave Coco to Pippa and immediately slipped into my bed. The ecstasy of her warmth as she curled into me cured me better than any sleep, swifter than any drug.
I sighed heavily as her head rested on my chest.
My left arm (the same one that’d tried to kill me) wrapped around her—needles and all.
I reached for Pippa and Coco with the other, urging them into the hug and kissing them.
Estelle’s tears soaked my white hospital gown, spreading a translucent stain.
Pippa let me go, cuddling Coco. “So good to see you, G.”
“You too...” I coughed. “Pippi.”
Estelle shuddered, clutching me tight.
Unable to stop myself, my lips landed in her hair. I’d almost lost her. I’d said goodbye. I’d forced her to leave.
“You never said it...” I breathed, nuzzling her, loving her.
Estelle stiffened.
No reminder was needed. She knew what she’d refused me on the precipice of my death.
I understood why she did (sort of). I understood she didn’t want to say farewell. Didn’t want finality on something so heart destroying.
But the fact she hadn’t said it broke me.
“I love you, G.” Her lips found mine.
The broken parts healed.
Her lips tasted of strawberry and sugar. Her mouth moved beneath mine, chanting over and over, “I love you. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
We reaffirmed that we were still here. Still together. Neither of us had left. No divorce had come true. No goodbye had been uttered.
This was hello, and I wanted it to last forever.
We hugged for the longest time.
A doctor arrived but didn’t interrupt. He allowed our moment before tiptoeing closer and checking my vitals.
Estelle sniffed back the dampness in her gaze, smiling with genuine ease at the doctor. Over the years, she’d told me tales of her struggle with crowds and strangers. I had no doubt being around so many would be hard. I was proud of her for being so brave.
Pippa and Coco moved out of the way as the doctor came closer. “Welcome back, Mr. Oak.”
I jerked.
No one had used my last name in so long. No one but Estelle and my island family had spoken to me in almost four years.
Just staring at someone who wasn’t familiar, someone I didn’t know every scar, sunburn, stretch mark, or growth spurt was the strangest sensation.
“Thank you for saving...” I coughed again. “Me.”
The nametag said my physician was Dr. Finnegan. His red hair gave away Irish roots even if his Australian accent didn’t. “Pleasure was all mine.” His eyes flickered to the machines and the drip slowly administering whatever had saved my life. “All signs are great for a full recovery. In such severe cases such as yours, I must warn you that although the infection didn’t spread to your bones, it was in your blood long enough to possibly cause complications with your lymph glands and immune system as you get older. You must be careful with any future cut or graze and continue to be vigilant with insect bites and swelling. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“The strength of the antibiotics have given your body a head start. However, you’ll need to take oral medication once we dock for twenty-one days afterward. This is the higher end of the scale, but after so long with no adequate vitamins, your system is too weak to fight on its own.”
Estelle said, “I’ll make sure he takes every pill, Doctor. I thought I’d lost him once. I won’t let him leave me a second time.”
Finnegan chuckled. “Good to have you on my side, Ms. Evermore.”
“Please...call me, Estelle. I told you that two days ago. You’ve already met my children. I want you to call them by their first names, too.” Smiling, she pointed at the two girls.
I was so used to them half-naked that their matching peach sundresses were ostentatiously bright.
“This is Pippa but you can call her Pippi, and Coco is short for Coconut.”
Finnegan touched his temple in greeting. “Pleasure.” Bending to tickle Coco under her chin, he grinned. “So you’re named after the tree that’s been dubbed a miracle, huh?”
Coco giggled. “Co co co coconuts. Yummy.”
Dammit, Conner.
Why did you have to die?
God, I missed that kid. He would’ve loved this. He would’ve been the centre of attention. Probably already earned a girlfriend or two.
Why was life so cruel to those most deserving?
“They are.” Finnegan smiled. “They’re also immensely helpful for stranded survivors such as yourselves.”
Coco shook her head, rosy cheeks glowing. “No. Home.”
Finnegan frowned. “What do you mean?”
For her young age of just over two, Coco had a good string of words and knowledge of questions. I doubted she could answer eloquently about her conception and birth, but I tensed. The age-old cliché that a man and woman were overcome with lust and just couldn’t help themselves. That we threw caution away just to have sex and screw the consequences.
We’d tried to prevent Coco.
We’d been very aware of how dangerous such a thing could be.
But she’d come anyway.
And we loved her so damn much.
“Born.” Coco tapped her chest importantly. “Home.” Crystal tears glittered on her eyelashes. “Home. No like here. Swim. Turtle
.” Her bottom lip wobbled as she reached for Estelle. “Ma-ma, home!”
Estelle took her from Pippa, bouncing her and kissing her forehead. “It’s okay, little nut. You’re okay. We can swim soon. The ship has a pool. Would you like that? We can swim and I’m sure someone will have a pet turtle.”
Her eyes glanced at the man lurking by the door. “Stefan, does the gift shop have stuffed turtles for sale?”
The guy shrugged. “Not sure. But I can check for you.”
Estelle cringed as if she hated being an imposition. “It’s—don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll go.” Pippa moved toward the man. “I know how much Puffin helped me. I forgot to bring the doll Conner made for her. She needs a friend.”
Estelle melted. “Thank you, Pip.”
“No problem.”
She slipped out the door with the stranger. My heart went wild, hopscotching on the monitor. “Who is that? Is Pippa safe with him?”
Estelle looked at me. “His name is Stefan. And yes, I trust him.”
I wasn’t so sure, but Coco held her tiny arms out for me. The chance to hug my daughter overcame the fact I was hooked up like a damn robot to machinery. “Give her to me.”
Estelle moved closer, carefully transferring the weight of the wriggling toddler. As she pulled away, I snagged her wrist and kissed the delicate skin. I knew she had a scar there from a scary slip with the Swiss Army knife trying to open a coconut. Just as I knew she had a scar on her knee from falling from the umbrella tree and a permanent mark on her chest from her harness when we crashed.
I knew everything there was to know about this woman.
Yet...she seemed like a stranger in her cream shirt and denim shorts. Her hair was in a ponytail and she smelled different. Not like sand and sea and sun, but more like synthetic soap and overly scented body lotion.
Possessiveness rose to claim her. To sink into the ocean and wash away the unknown; to make love in spite of death’s attempt to separate us.
Finnegan cleared his throat, reminding us we had an audience. He glanced between me, my wife, and my baby. “So...you gave birth alone?”
Estelle flinched. “Yes.”
“But in your check-up, there didn’t seem to be any complications.”
“There weren’t.”
“You must’ve been terrified.”
“I was.”
I jumped in. “She was amazing. So proud of her.”
The doctor frowned. “So...you were married before the crash?”
None of your damn business.
Estelle dropped her eyes. “No. But we’re together now.”
Finnegan stroked his chin. “I must admit, that makes more sense. I couldn’t understand what she meant.”
“What who meant?” My voice was sharper than intended.
“Joanna Evermore.”
Estelle turned to granite. “Who?”
Pippa’s voice interrupted as she re-entered the room. “My grandmother. I told him to call her. I didn’t know her number, but I remembered her name and town.” She sniffed, not able to raise her gaze. “She needs to know about my...my parents...and...and...” She couldn’t hold the tears any longer. “She needs to know about...Conner.”
Estelle opened her arms.
Pippa ran to her, hugging her tight.
“It’s okay, Pippi. You did the right thing. Of course, she needs to know. She’ll be longing to see you.”
My heart hurt at the thought of Pippa being taken from us.
But that wouldn’t happen, would it? We were her legal guardians. We didn’t have the paperwork, but she’d been ours for almost four years.
“I returned to see if Coco wanted to come to the gift shop to pick out a toy. Not to hurt you guys.” Pippa cried harder. “I miss my family. I—I couldn’t keep it a secret. Not anymore. They need to know. Conner—”
My pulse quickened; I was desperate to climb out of bed and hold her.
“It’s okay. I completely understand.” Estelle smoothed Pippa's hair. “And that’s very nice of you to take Coco. I’m sure she’d love to go.”
A thin veil of normality descended as Pippa sucked up her tears. “Okay...” The thought of spending time with the toddler went beyond the nurturing tendencies of an older sister but a full-blown requirement to stop thinking about a lost brother.
How guilty were we of using Coco as a safety blanket for such heartache?
Finnegan broke the tension-filled bubble. “If you don’t mind...I need to confirm something Joanna Evermore told me.”
Estelle never stopped hugging Pippa, gathering Coco to join in the embrace. “All right...”
“When I told her that Pippa’s aunt and uncle had been on the island and looking after her grandchild, she said Duncan never had any siblings. That he was an only child. However...I know from your medical records you listed your name as Estelle Evermore...which matches Pippa’s.”
The doctor looked at Galloway. “However, yours is Oak so I’m assuming, and I don’t want to pry, that Estelle was married or somehow a distant relation to the Evermores before you met? Or did you perhaps change your name out of convenience?”
Pippa shot out of Estelle’s arms, indignant. “She is my aunt. G is my uncle. I don’t care what they say. They’re family.”
Finnegan held up his hands. “I wasn’t saying otherwise, but the authorities will need to solve this.”
“Solve what?” I asked.
Finnegan gave me a sad look weighted with everything we didn’t understand. “When we arrive at port in a few days, you’ll be interviewed by Sydney immigration. You’ll be detained unless you have valid documents stating nationality and origins.”
Detained?
We’d gone from imprisoned on an island to imprisoned by people?
Hell, no.
Not going to bloody happen.
“Listen, we have no documents because we crashed. We’re alive because of how we pulled together not because anyone came to find us. They can take their clearance and shove it up their ass before I let them detain or separate us.”
Estelle warned, “G...”
Pippa burst into tears again.
Coconut looked as if she’d join in.
Heaven had just become a nightmare.
Estelle placed her hand on mine. “It’s okay. We’ll work it out.” She smiled bravely at Finnegan. “It will be okay...right?”
Finnegan had the grace to lie. However, his eyes couldn’t stop the truth. “Yes, I’m sure it will be,” said his mouth. “I’d start saying goodbye now,” said his eyes.
For the first time, but definitely not the last, I wished we were back on our island.
Back home.
Where nothing and no one could touch us.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
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E S T E L L E
......
TWO DAYS.
Both comprised of twenty-four hours.
Both unchanging in minutes and longevity.
Yet somehow...they blinked past.
It was always the same. If something joyous was on the horizon, days turned into years. But when something horrendous threatened, they turned into seconds.
Two days was too short.
Despite our ticking time, Galloway grew stronger.
Finnegan inspected his badly healed ankle, foot, and shin. He took X-rays and tapped his chin with deliberations.
Unfortunately, he admitted that the end product wasn’t ideal.
Galloway’s shin had healed from the lateral malleolus injury and his foot suffered a lis franc fracture which might cause arthritis.
His ankle however.
His ankle wasn’t normal.
We already knew that.
What we didn’t know was the injury was called a bimalleolar fracture. Coupled with his other injuries and the fact the ligaments and tendons had been damaged as well, meant the splint I’d done and the best care I could administer wasn�
�t enough.
The joint had moved while healing, causing a malunion. His ankle could bear weight, but he might never be able to run or even walk without a limp. He would develop pain over time as he aged. It would be unstable and require constant awareness for the rest of his life.
Instead of being strong for G, being there while he heard the news, I broke.
I felt responsible.
I hated that I’d let him down.
I should've done more to fix him. I should’ve known how to provide better care.
However, he didn’t blame me. He blamed himself. He was the one who’d coerced a pilot to fly us in uncertain weather. He was the one who’d done something karma demanded payment for.
I loved him no matter his brokenness or wholeness.
I just wished I’d been better. More able. A nurse rather than songwriter.
That night, after Finnegan delivered the news, Galloway held me close and ordered me to stop feeling guilty. I was never to think about it again.
He accepted that this was his gait now. He could run; he could walk (he might never do it gracefully or be able to dance) but he was alive and that was all that mattered.
We were given permission to move Galloway from the infirmary and into my room under the proviso he carted the antibiotic drip and fluids wherever he went.
We spent two nights curled together on the floor with Pippa and Coco beside us.
Conner’s ghost never left, giving us strength to face what we must.
Galloway’s system (bolstered by drugs and intravenous nutrients) excelled with healing. His natural colouring returned, his smile appeared, and every hour he felt more alive in my arms.
The medical team kept a close eye on him. And all of us underwent a dentist visit for cleaning and X-rays.
I required a few fillings as did Pippa, but overall, our teeth were in good shape thanks to our flossing and bi-daily brushing, even with old toothbrushes with no paste.
We’d done what we could to stay in physical condition.
And it’d paid of (minus the lack of weight).
On the morning we cruised into Sydney Harbour, two things conflicted me.
One, I’d waited three and a half years to return home, and it’d finally come true. I hadn’t had to fly (thank God) and the cruise liner (along with its staff) had been the best integration into noisy society that we could ask for.
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