Nevertheless, their wedding had been a wonderfully happy day. Alexis had hoped it would be the first of many more and, for a while, it had been.

Even in darkness, the ring sparkled as brightly as the day she received it and Alexis couldn't bear its beauty a second longer. She returned the ring to its box and snapped the lid shut, placing it back in the drawer. Then she retrieved a cell phone from the top drawer and dialed.

"You have one saved message," the automated voice told her.

Mark's voice. "Alexis, I do hope you're about finished. Not to be a nag, but I am sitting in an airport waiting for you on our anniversary. Greece awaits us. Come soon." Alexis turned off the phone and quickly dropped it into the drawer as though it had burned her fingers. Leaning against the dresser, she took a steadying breath. She had promised herself that she wouldn't listen to the message again. She wanted to delete it so that she would stop tormenting herself, but she couldn't bear to part with the sound of his voice.

Unwilling to think anymore after such a long night, she climbed back into bed. Why did she think coming back to Mangrove Island would help her heal? Everywhere she turned, memories lurked. Maybe that was why she felt more relaxed when she was with Ty. She had no specific memories of him and the things he remembered about her didn't make her feel guilty or misunderstood. It was a welcome change. When she finally drifted off to sleep, she dreamed that a tsunami overpowered the island and washed away all evidence of its inhabitants except Alexis. She stood amidst the destruction, injured and terrified, and wondered how she got there.

The next morning, Tilly knocked once before entering the bedroom where Alexis still slept. Alexis stirred at the sound.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to still be asleep. You were always such an early riser," Tilly commented.

Alexis opened her eyes and tried to focus. "Getting up," she mumbled.

"I didn't hear you come in last night. You must have been out late."

Alexis sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I ran into an old friend."

"Anyone I would know?"

"Probably not." Her parents had been even less interested in Mangrove Island's teenagers than Alexis had.

Tilly approached the bed cautiously, like Alexis was stricken with a highly contagious disease. "Your father has already eaten, but there are blueberry pancakes downstairs."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Are they not your favorite anymore?"

"I'm not a child. I don't have favorite foods."

"Bacon and fried eggs are my favorite," Tilly sniffed.




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