I rub his back, gently placing my hand in between his shoulder blades. His skin is warm to the touch. Even though he’s sick, touching him is reassuring. Being near him I feel balanced, like I can breathe again.

‘It’ll be OK,’ I whisper.

I help him get ready for bed, bringing him water and a plain piece of bread in case he feels like he can eat.

When I dip a washcloth in cool water and lay it across his forehead, his eyes flutter open.

‘Millie,’ he says. His voice is hoarse, but he’s managing a wry smile.

‘What do you need?’ I grab his bedframe to steady myself as the boat lurches again.

‘I’m sorry I’m taking away our night together.’ Hugh chuckles in disbelief at the situation, his throat scratchy. He leans his head back into the pillow and takes a deep breath, like that comment took every ounce of energy he had left.

‘We have the mainland,’ I say, smiling.

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ Hugh grins.

‘But I need to talk to you about something.’

He nods. ‘As you wish.’

‘And I still don’t understand how we would navigate the Sydney–Columbus problem.’ I can’t resist pointing it out. I’m hoping that if we agree this could never go anywhere, I wouldn’t ever need to tell Hugh the truth.

‘That doesn’t matter,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you in April anyway.’ He squints at me. ‘Right?’ He’s referring to the conference he’s going to in April to present his paper, the paper on the extinction of the butterfly wrasse. I know Millie would kill me for agreeing to participate in the circulation of Hugh’s research, especially at her expense, but I can’t help but agree to see him. A two-hour flight is a lot closer than a twenty-four-hour travel day.

‘If you want to, then yes.’

‘It’s settled then. I’ll see you in Boston. We can figure it out then.’

‘That doesn’t settle anything,’ I argue back softly.

‘Sydney is better.’ Hugh closes his eyes briefly and then opens them again. ‘I hated when we were avoiding each other all day.’

‘I hated it more.’

‘We would figure it out, you know,’ he says. His voice is sleepy.

‘I can’t leave my family,’ I respond, my voice in a whisper. ‘They need me.’ Although as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I’m not sure if they need me or if I need them.

Hugh squeezes my hand gently when I take the washcloth away. I leave him in peace, trying and failing to find distraction upstairs. Eventually, I come back to our room. He’s finally been able to drift off.

‘Goodnight, Hugh Harris,’ I whisper, as I climb up into my bunk.

Chapter 25

One dive left