Page 62 of Hate Wrecked

ROWAN

The hum comes before the sight—low and steady, vibrating through my chest like a second heartbeat. Riley hears it first. She straightens, eyes wide, mouth parted, scanning the sky like it’s a trick of sound, like we might be imagining it.

But then the birds in the trees scatter, and a white speck breaks over the water.

A plane.

Riley grabs my hand, squeezes hard. By the time the wheels kiss the overgrown runway, Riley is in my arms, holding me tight.

They come out fast—sharp voices, stretchers, kits, guns. I don’t let go of Riley as I talk to them, tell them where the men are.

We gather what we can in quiet, together. Our battered belongings, Desi’s manuscript, my notebooks, Garfield squirming and howling like a demon.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave.

That wants to stay on Falcon island forever, where the rules of the world can’t touch us.

But the island isn’t ours. It never was.

It’s a place built on lost things—and we’re lucky enough to still be found.

I hope it will again become a place for growth.

We grew on the shores, in the jungle, in our tent, beneath the water, and under each other’s gaze.

When the engine of the plane roars and we lift off, I glance out the window.

The island shrinks below us—trees, salt-worn buildings, the wrecked ship and the stolen vessel—and then it’s just endless and blue and blinding sun.

Somehow a different hue than what I saw from the boat when we sailed toward our fate.

Riley exhales like she’s been holding her breath for months.

The cabin is quiet except for the thrum of air, the propeller, and the occasional cry from Garfield. Across from us, a medic writes notes on a large pad of paper. I catch him glancing at Riley between sentences, then at me.

When he stands and leaves us alone at the back of the plane, I turn to Riley, voice low, taking her hands. “You okay?”

She blinks at me, then leans forward, pressing her forehead to my shoulder. “I think so.”

“Your hand is shaking.”

She looks down. Her fingers twitch where they’re threaded through mine. She tries to pull away. I don’t let her.

“You don’t have to hold everything together anymore. You don’t have to make the best of anything, put on a show. We’re still there, in some ways,” I say. “You can be whoever you want to be when we get home too.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” she whispers.

I laugh. “I’m being serious, Riley.”

Her mouth twitches. “You too, though. You can be whoever you want to be, too.”

I run my hand over her hair, kiss her temple. “You were brave, you know?”

“You too,” she whispers.

“You once said you didn’t want your mess of your life to ruin me, to hurt me.

” She pulls back, looking into my eyes. I continue.

“You’re a mess I welcome. You could never ruin me.

From the moment I first saw you, you gave me a reason to get up every morning.

I just wanted to see your face, the way your mouth moves when you’re mischievous, the way your eyes look when your heart swells.

I was ruined in the best way the day we met.

I’ve never been the same, and that’s okay.

I used to hate the way you wrecked me; now I crave it with everything I am. ”

When she kisses me, I feel our forgiveness. I feel our fractures mending. I feel hope for the first time in years. We slipped through the cracks. Became ghosts to the rest of the world. But I came alive on that island with her.

There are things you don’t do in this life, and the one that has ruled my life is repeating my father’s sins.

But I can’t look at loving Riley as a sin anymore.

She makes me feel alive; she exhumes the darkness that has tangled around my heart, and makes it ours, makes it new.

I lost part of myself to her the moment she looked at me like I could cure her loneliness with my own.

“I’d still leave it all for you,” I say, running my finger over the necklace draped across her skin.

Her green eyes are all I see when she speaks close, her lips almost touching mine. “You don’t have to leave anything, Rowan. You just have to come home to me.”

* * *

The airport is loud, too bright, too clean after the island’s wild silence.

The second we step off the jet bridge, it feels like the air thickens around us—no longer salt and sun, but recycled, buzzing, human. I hate it.

We move together, her hand in mine, fingers threading like our lives have been. Neither of us speaks. I shield my eyes and lead her away from the plane. And then I hear it—Riley’s name torn from a throat half-choked with emotion. “Riley!”

Riley’s head snaps up just in time to see her mother rushing forward, her face blotchy and tear-streaked, expensive makeup running down her cheeks. Her sisters—LaRue and Belle—are close behind. Farther back, I see her father, her stepmother, and her half-sisters Penny and Rey.

She releases my hand and races forward, placing Garfield’s carrier gently on the ground just before arms wrap around her, half-sobbed breaths coming from all directions.

She grips them back just as hard, burying her face in Belle’s shoulder, then LaRue’s, then her mother’s trembling hands frame her cheeks, and I swallow, throat tight at the sight of an image that had only played out in my mind for years.

“My baby,” Desi whispers. “My beautiful, brave girl. I’ve missed you so much. My God.”

Desi’s voice cracks, and Riley throws her arms around her mother. “I’m okay,” she croaks. “I’m here. I’ve missed you. I missed you so much. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

I stand back, kneeling down to check on Garfield as Riley’s father approaches.

I let them have their moment, my heart aching in the best way.

They hug, kiss cheeks, and cry together.

It’s everything I wanted, everything I wanted for her, for her fractured family.

Just the beginning of the healing they’ll have to travel together.

I wonder at my own, and when I hear my name being called, it feels like my heart stops. A woman breaks away from the small crowd—a woman with sharp blue eyes and graying red hair pulled into a braid. I loosen when I see her, something hard that had settled over my heart breaking away.

I race to my mother, gathering her into my arms, hugging her tightly. “Mum,” I choke out as she begins to shake, to sob into my shoulder.

“My boy. My baby boy. I thought you were…oh my Alastair,” she sobs.

Tears stain my cheeks at the name. The name she gave me, the name I didn’t feel worthy of for so long. A name given to me by my mother, who loved me unconditionally. A name wholly hers, not from the man who broke her heart and mine. A name I want to reclaim when I tell my story.

When I tell ours .

I pull away, my jaw clenched tight as I look at her. “I don’t know what they said, what they said I did, but?—”

“Rowan, if there is one thing I held onto this whole time, it’s that I know you, my darling boy. I knew that if you were with that girl, the girl I know you loved, you were protecting her. Even if it meant you couldn’t protect yourself.”

I have to look away then—closing my eyes to the sting as the shadow that’s followed me for years begins to fade. When I look at my mother again, my voice cracks as I speak. “I didn’t want to let you down. I didn’t want to be like him. But I…I loved her. I love her so, so much.”

My mother shushes me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.

I’m proud of you. I’ll always be proud of you.

And maybe you can be proud of yourself one day, too.

When you forgive him. If you can forgive him, maybe you can forgive yourself for this useless guilt that has been eating you for years.

He can’t hurt me anymore, Alastair. He can’t hurt me.

It’s been twenty years. It’s time to move on, son. ”

I go to speak, I go to ask how, but I’m stopped short when Riley approaches, her family close behind. The woman I love lets out a breath, and my mother pulls her close, hugging her. “I knew he would keep you safe. I knew it.”

My mother and the woman I love hug fiercely as Desi comes to my side. She places her hand on my shoulder, and I turn to her, jaw set. “I hope you know?—”

“Rowan,” she says, her voice raspy and raw.

“Rowan, it was never a question. Never a thought in my head. I left you there on that island to meet her, to protect her, to be there for her. I knew you were doing that. No matter what story was being spun, no matter who begged me to blame you. I knew it. I knew you’d bring her back to me. ”

I let out a sob then, remembering the look in her eyes when she handed me her manuscript— when she trusted me to give it to the daughter she loved so much, the daughter she desperately wanted back.

I needed space to breathe and see things clearly, to see my past clearly. To see Riley clearly. I’ve finally realized that helping others cannot always heal your wounds. You need to help yourself. You need to trust people to help themselves, too.

I look Desi in the eye, then Riley—with my mother’s arm around her. “Thank you for reminding me of who I am.”

Riley closes the distance, wrapping her arms tight around me, speaking into my chest as I kiss her hair. “Let’s go home.”