Page 129 of The Triangle

Ten days and I’ve got the GPS spooled up, food in hand as I scan the map. They have this little hut place on One Foot Island. Right next to the post office. Like a fucking snack bar if you were on a beach in the US. They mostly sell fish and crab, so that’s what I’m eating. Fish taco. I ran out of ramen four days ago and I’m just not in the mood to take this boat out by myself and go to the market over in Aitutaki. I’ll have to walk by the fishing club to get there and then I’ll think of her yellow dress and the whole sad state of things will finally sink in.

She’s not coming back.

Alec is dead.

There is no triangle, there is no us.

I am alone on the wrong side of the world.

So I look at the GPS map and eat my stupid fish. Try to decide where I can go that won’t feel like death is calling me home.

I decide that place doesn’t exist.

So I decide northwest.

I decide I’d like to kill Brasil. Take back what’s mine. What’s left, anyway.

And I come to terms with it. The loss, the sadness, the two holes inside my heart.

Because there’s no way to fix this. There’s no way to put that sand back in Christine’s fist or those bullets back in her gun.

It’s over.

I can either stay here and die. Or leave and fight to live another day.

If I quit… if I quit, Alec would never respect me again. I’d never get his voice out of my head.

So I stay up all night and plot the trip. And by the time dawn comes, I’m OK, I think.

I’m alone, but I’m OK.

It’s taken a while, but I’ve come to terms with my new normal.

And that’s when the boat tips slightly. And for a second I think, Waves. Just waves.

“Hey,” she says.

But it’s not waves.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. Hold it. Then let it out and say, “Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

I don’t turn around and look at her. I can’t do it. I just accepted things. Just started to feel whole again. And seeing her now. I don’t know. I don’t think I can do it.

She comes up behind me. She leans into my neck and she smells like wind. Like salt, and sea, and life. She kisses me and whispers, “I can fix this.”

I just shake my head. She can’t.

“He’s alive, Danny.”

“Lars?” I ask, unable to even consider—

“He’s alive and I know where he is.” She slips around and sits in my lap, her arms draped casually around my shoulders. A moment later she’s kissing me on the mouth. “He’s with Brasil. I can fix this, OK? Let me fix this.”

Everything comes rushing back to me now.

Everything.