Page 126 of The Triangle

“What about Lars?”

“He can come along if he wants. One day, maybe. When he’s old enough to understand what this is. But he’s not part of us, is he? He’s part of me, sure. But he’s not part of us.”

I nod, pretending to understand what it means to be us. Not quite getting it, but not wanting to break the moment and ask more questions, either.

Christine is suddenly under the palapa with us. She sinks to her knees, dropping into the sand. Picks up two handfuls, lets it flow through her fingers like an hourglass ticking off time. “I love it here.”

I beam at her. And when I look over at Alec, he’s beaming too.

It kinda hits me then. What he meant.

Alec. Christine. Danny.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she whispers, picking up more sand so she can grab more time.

“Nothing lasts forever, nunu. Must enjoy things when they happen. That’s all you can do.”

I think about life before Alec and feel OK with it. It was hard, and we were scared, but… it was OK.

Then I think about life without Alec and find myself suddenly sad. Not for the loss of things he gave us, but for the loss of him. The loss of us.

I would probably be fine if we’d never met. Because you can’t miss something you never had. But losing him… I mean, he gets on my nerves quite a bit. We argue plenty. And every now and then we even box until we’re bloody. But I meant it. We love him.

I love him.

The thought of losing him feels like the end of something.

Something I’ll never get back.

It feels like the loss of everything.

Something I’ll never get over.

It feels like defeat.

Because there is no us without Alec.

RIGHT NOW

Did they die?

We ask ourselves that question every day. Or at least I do. I think Christine has moved on. It’s been three months since she squeezed her trigger and blasted bullets at Alec and Lars.

Three months since we got up off the ground, walked over to the edge of the river, bent down to rub our fingers through the drops of blood on the rocks.

Three months since we looked at the water rushing over the waterfall.

Since I called his name, over and over and over.

“Alec!”

“Alec!”

“Alec?”

We made our way down to the pool at the bottom. It took hours to get there so we knew, even if we did find bodies, they’d be dead. We had to make ourselves leave the river first. And that was harder than it sounds. Leaving without him. Leaving him behind.

Then we found the house, got the Range Rover, found a road that took us close to the falls, then hiked back into the forest.