Kai’s just a man, I tell myself, looking down into his beautiful face, seeing the jaw with the hint of beard, the curve of his cheekbones, the long, dense lashes at his eyes, black lashes that frame those blue eyes that I can’t stop looking into.

He’s just a man.

There are lots of men.

And there’s no such thing as soul mates, anyway.

Love never lasts. Love is an illusion. Love is about sex, and sex isn’t that important… not compared to the important things like truth and kindness, friendship and trust.

That’s what my girlfriends give me and my children need.

That’s why I live in Seattle and keep my kids near their father.

That’s why I come to Hawaii for sex.

And if that’s how I feel, why do tears fill my eyes now? Why does everything inside me constrict?

Kai reaches for my hand and holds it, holds it tight in his. “You’re thinking too much again,” he says, and I nod.

He’s right.

He’s right about a lot of things.

This was only ever a vacation romance, nothing permanent, just a holiday fantasy.

But when he lifts his head to kiss me, I can’t stop kissing him. And then he’s rolling us both over and he’s on top of me and we’re making love again and this time it’s fierce and intense, stormy. Even half an hour later, when we’ve both found what we need, the stormclouds are there, inside me.

If I thought going home last time was hard, it’s going to kill me this time. How do you just leave happiness, and your heart, behind?

Today’s my last full day here. Tomorrow I fly home. Of course, I’ll be back—I know that much, how could I stay away?—but still, it won’t be for a while, at least a month or more.

I vow not to think about leaving. At least not today, not when Kai’s working on the north shore. I’ve never been with him to the surf school on the north shore and happily hitch a ride to work with him.

He’s teaching at the Turtlebay Resort, and I sit at a table at the pool bar, making business calls on my cell phone and organizing various client projects.

After work, Kai tells me a bunch of the boys are having a bonfire on the beach and wants to know if I’d like to join them.

We go to a north shore beach where there’s already a bonfire and little hibachi grills and cases of beer. I’m reminded of college parties, the kinds of parties where it’s not about atmosphere or quality wine, but just about getting together, hanging out.