“Pardonnez moi, mademoiselle.”

Startled, Linda Bartok abandoned her contemplation of the Tahitian sky, not knowing how long ago Marissa’s plane had disappeared into the distance. “Oui? What is it?”

“You’re behind the secured area,” the airline attendant said, with a gesture at the sign.

“Pardonnez moi.” She’d not realized she had edged toward the door as she’d watched the plane taxi. Linda picked up her worn day pack and turned toward the boarding area for her Auckland flight.

For a few minutes she could think only of the previous night. There had not been—never, ever—a night like that before in her life. She could still feel Marissa’s touch and the depth of her own response. This morning, too, in the full light of day, she’d felt the same intensity and let herself enjoy it to levels she’d never experienced.

The days, too . . . the days with Marissa had been filled with laughter and ease. It had been great fun teaching Marissa to snorkel, to share good food and talk only of topics they felt like exploring. Marissa’s hands made curious whorls and sharp slices in the air if whatever the topic was excited her.

Linda grinned to herself. When Marissa was excited she was also quite vocal.

What a week, she thought. What an amazing week. A cruise wasn’t her usual style and had been booked last minute on the cheap. How could she have known the challenge and invigoration of their shipwreck and rescue would provide such wonderful diversion? All in all, the vacation had been a blast, a real escape from her life.

She laughed aloud, alarming two elderly women walking toward her. She nodded more sedately and laughed quietly when they had passed her. The week had been an escape—an escape from escaping. How ironic was that?

She’d felt so far away, so perfectly lost. Had the night been so amazing because Marissa knew nothing at all about her? Had it been the brightness of the days and the safety of the dark night that had let her respond that way?

For more days in a row than she could remember she’d had no flashbacks, no nightmares, no waking terrors. The lazy but exhilarating days had freed her from the pain she had never outrun before. All morning she’d felt whole, as if she’d never even been broken.

That is, until a half hour ago, when Marissa had let go and walked away.

Her footsteps slowed as she recalled that painful moment. She didn’t know how Marissa had found the strength to let go but when she had, Linda’s own hands had unclenched. Harsh reality, assisted by unwanted memory, began to fill her up again like toxic water pumping out the clean from the well of her soul.

Pain was an old friend. Now pain murmured the familiar words: run away.

She glanced back to make sure Marissa’s plane was indeed still gone. She took a few steps toward the Air New Zealand area then stopped again.