She nodded, the wetness pooling again. “Six months in Peru and another six in Chile. I’m going to be working in small villages where there’s hardly any health care or supplies and an overabundance of patients who need medical aid.”

Fuck me.

An ache even more painful than my back lodged its way into my chest.

This wasn’t what I wanted, what I’d expected.

I didn’t even know what the hell to say.

“I know,” she said, as though she were reading my mind. “We’re in the middle of something beautiful here, and I’m just up and leaving, but …” She glanced at my hand once more, her fingers circling it, fidgeting, like I’d never seen from her before. “Something about it feels so right, and I have to do this for me.” She swallowed. “My whole life, I’ve put everyone else first, and now”—she wiped her eyes—“I need to get out there and find myself again.”

“Whitney …” I exhaled several times, waiting for the right response, and finally said, “Come here,” as I opened my arms.

She fell against my chest, carefully wrapping around me. “I’m sorry, Caleb.” The dampness soaked through my shirt. “So incredibly sorry.”

I held the back of her head. “Don’t be.”

“I had no idea how to tell you. I’ve wanted to so many times, but I didn’t have it in me. I feel sick at the thought of not being with you every day and being that far away.”

I buried my face in her neck, the coconut now faint, a scent that would stay with me, even when she wasn’t here. I was having a hard time with putting my mind there, the idea of letting her go an unbearable emotion.

I tightened my grip around her. “Goddamn it, I’m going to miss you.”

Her back shook, her nails gently stabbing my shoulders. “I hope you’ll be healed enough soon to come visit.”

I’d traveled through remote towns in South America; I knew how terrible the cell reception was, and Wi-Fi wasn’t available there. Our communication would be extremely limited, if there was any at all.

“A year?”

“It’s an eternity, I know.” She leaned back, her hand instantly going to my face. “I have no idea what this means for us. I don’t expect you to wait for me … I don’t know what I expect from any of this.”

As the gusts whipped past us, I remembered the way the flags had waved at the finish line moments before my world went dark. Now, it felt like it was happening again for an entirely different reason.

“When do you leave?”

She took several breaths before answering, “In a month.”

“Fuck.” I pulled her against me again, my lips pressing against the top of her head. “We have to make the most of the time you have left.”