A wall of oppressive heat greeted us as we stepped outside the airport in Nassau, and the roads glistened with imaginary pools of water on top. I paused in the shade, cradling my bag to my chest as I stared out at nothing. I wondered if that was what my relationship with Gabriel was. A mirage far away in the distance—an illusion I could never reach no matter how hard I tried.

Cameron stepped closer and stood beside me, gazing across the landscape. Palm trees waved at the sea, birds soared on the rising winds and others dove through the sky.

"I love this place," he said. "I'm glad we're here so I can share it with you."

My breath hitched. A few months ago, I had looked forward to the prospect of going to this very spot with Cameron, but Gabriel had stolen that enthusiasm. I'd let him ruin it for me, or rather, I'd ruined it for myself by listening. Now, I wasn't sure what to feel.

"I'm glad you're glad," I said and turned away. It wasn't a lie. Cameron deserved to be happy and carefree. The irritation I'd felt at Cameron's interference had died almost as quickly as it had appeared. Even if his help had been unwelcome at the time, he'd tried more than anyone else, and I had answered in the worst possible way. If anyone deserved an apology, it was him, but I wasn't ready—not when they'd interfered a second time without my consent. They could have talked to me instead of stealing me away.

A large cab drove closer and stopped at the curb. The driver rolled down the window and leaned out. "Off to the city?"

"Sure. Can you manage all this?" Chris asked, gesturing at our excessive luggage.

"Of course." The driver stepped out of his vehicle and helped us load as other cabs in the line began to honk. We ended up crammed with bags in our laps, but I was too tired to care about anything. Hopefully it wouldn't be a long trip.

The driver took us through the picturesque city and down to the busy harbor where huge cruise ships obstructed the view of the sea. They looked out of place, almost like invaders disrupting the paradise. I wondered how many people they could fit, and if all of their guests were loitering around Nassau and its casinos. The city appeared to be pretty cramped with tourists.

Cameron leaned back and looked over his shoulder. "Which hotel did you book, Chris?" It was strange to listen to normal conversation when nothing about this situation was normal at all.

"Are you worried I picked one of these?" Chris nodded out the window as we passed one of the major hotels.

"Maybe," Cameron replied.

Dante laughed, and once again it became abundantly clear that Chris and Cameron were on friendly terms. Banter like that didn't surface until you knew someone. I almost felt left out even if I was perfectly aware of having chosen to play that part by being silent. My reaction was sad and uncalled for.

Chris continued to tease Cameron, but the driver took us past the massive hotels and continued farther along the coast line, passing large palaces and beautiful gardens bursting with greenery and colorful flowers. The journey wasn't long, but I was still relieved when the car finally stopped outside a smaller hotel right on the beach. I needed to be alone to think.

When the driver didn't rise to help us with our bags, Dante mumbled something about Tom. I remembered that Chris had talked about a Tom, but I had never met him. I gathered that Tom was the better driver, though.

"This place is great, Chris. Awesome choice." Cameron snapped a photo of the row of colorful houses along the street.

Chris beamed. "No problem. I hope you're all fine with sharing the villa."

A knot of worry that I hadn't fully acknowledged began to unravel in my chest. If we all shared, it wouldn't be too bad. The more probable alternative would have been to put Cameron and me in a room together. It was a relief that Chris had thought a step ahead.

A young woman met us in reception and called for her brother to show us to the right villa. The teenage boy in flip-flops and a red ball cap grinned as he walked us to a house not far from the main building. Cameron tipped him, which made his grin even wider before he dashed away and left us to ourselves. I wondered if he always smiled like that or if he reserved it for tourists to get a bit of extra coin.

Feeling strangely disconnected, I stared at the villa painted in a hue resembling the clear sky. White pillars reached up from the ground to a balcony lined with red flowers. It was colonial mixed with something distinctly Caribbean. It looked like someone's home rather than a hotel.

Not bothering to wait for the others, I walked inside and up the stairs. The place had a nice feel to it with mismatched furniture and colorful fabrics. The house itself seemed to have a personality with all its quirks and imperfections. I entered a bedroom with a stunning view of the sea and the garden just outside. Amazed, I stared out across the azure water that glittered beneath the scorching sun. It was so different from what I was used to, almost as if I had traveled into another world. Perhaps Chris was right when he'd said I needed this break to think clearly again. I had a feeling my decisions hadn't been all that intelligent lately.

I disposed of my bag onto the neatly made bed, suddenly fighting off another wave of sadness. It was all too much—too many emotions pulling me in different directions at once. On one hand, I had my feelings for Gabriel that were more confusing than ever—on the other hand, I had memories of what it was to laugh and goof around with friends. I had lost that part of myself when Gabriel had entered my life, and I was only just realizing how much that affected me.

Unable to stand my own company inside the small room, I headed downstairs, not meeting anyone's gaze on the way. What they did was up to them, but they had better leave me alone or I would snap—or maybe break down and cry which was the last thing I wanted to do.

As soon as I stepped outside into the blistering heat, I realized what I wanted to do and why my nerves kept shaking me. I had to speak with Gabriel, and if they wouldn't let me use their phones, I could use someone else's. Walking briskly for the first time that day, I moved toward the main house.

The young woman behind the reception desk greeted me with an easy smile. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I want to make a phone call."

"Overseas?"

"Yes please."

She smiled again. "We'll put it on the bill. There's a phone in the lounge over there. Dial 00 first, then the number you're trying to reach."

Her speedy efficiency helped to kick me into action, but that didn't stop my heart from throbbing as I grasped the phone. I stood there, phone in hand, for far longer than I should have. Sounds in the background came and went while I simply kept breathing in and out.

The receptionist appeared in the doorway. "Are you all right in there, sir?"

"Yes, thank you." I had to do this. Gabriel deserved to know what had happened.

Steeling myself, I dialed his number and pressed the phone to my ear. The signal was different to back home, but it was a welcome change. I waited for the signal to stop and Gabriel's voice to reach my ear, but nothing happened. It simply kept ringing and ringing, and with each signal, my confidence wavered. The line closed, and not for the first time, I cursed that he didn't have voicemail. Tired of absolutely everything, I placed the phone back on its table and slumped into one of the black leather chairs.

Why couldn't he answer? Didn't he understand?

I leaned forward and hid behind my hands, my elbows biting into my thighs. Time passed by while I sat unmoving, and every now and then, I saw someone checking me from the doorway. I felt exposed and unwelcome, and the lounge chair was far too warm to let me linger.

With one last look at the phone, I decided to wait until tomorrow. I didn't have it in me to attempt yet another call that would go by unanswered.

Craving peace and quiet, I steered my steps toward the beach. Water always had a calming effect on me, and I knew I wasn't alone in that sentiment.

The long beach was beautiful, serene despite the tourists farther away. Waves lapped against the shore, and the water rolled gently along the sand. I sat with crossed legs and listened to the sounds of the surf and children laughing as they braved the waves.

When had I forgotten how to laugh? Somewhere along the way, I had lost myself and forgotten how to stand up straight. I grasped a handful of white sand then let it sift through my fingers. Life running out—or time simply passing. I wasn't sure.

The faint sound of flapping sandals from behind made me tense in preparation for company I didn't want.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Dante sinking down beside me. Not too close, but not far away.

Expecting words, I slowly relaxed as the silence stretched between us. It was a comfortable silence—as if we didn't have to talk to enjoy the cooling breeze and the beauty of our world. A break in time when nothing was expected of us.

"I used to hate the sea," he said at last.

I was surprised. "Why?"

"It felt like I was already drowning, so the sea only served as a reminder."

"Makes sense." It did make sense to me even if I hadn't thought that far.

"Are you drowning, Adam?"

The direct question hit me like a sledgehammer, shattering every resistance I had. He was right, far too right.

"Yes." My voice was barely audible, but he must have heard my whisper.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know myself."

"I don't know you at all. Clean slate. You can be anyone."

I bit my lip, grasping another handful of sand. "Is it that easy to change?"

"We change when the world changes around us, and sometimes I believe we change the world when we change." He rose and approached the water, stopping when he was ankle-deep. I watched him, wondering what he meant and how much he had changed during his life. He seemed to know exactly who he was, but perhaps looks could be deceiving.

The only thing I knew was that I disliked the person Gabriel had made of me. Perhaps he hadn't meant to do it, but the damage was done. Now, it was my responsibility to repair that damage and find a way forward.

I could be anyone, Dante had said. Maybe he was right.