The sun was soft that morning, hidden behind pale clouds that cast the island in a cooler light. Theo and Nerina spent most of the day moving at their own rhythm slow, quiet, and close. They had settled into a kind of silent understanding, where even the simplest gestures carried meaning: a shared look, a brush of fingers over breakfast, the way Theo's hand rested at the small of her back when they walked.
That day, they'd read under the shade of a large tree, Nerina stretched out with her head on Theo's lap, fingers trailing over the spine of a book she'd barely turned a page in. Theo played with strands of her hair absentmindedly, his other hand cradling a cup of cooled coffee. The comfort between them had deepened not just passion, but presence. The kind that came when walls lowered and the mind stopped racing.
"Have you ever done this?" Nerina asked, her voice dreamlike as she gazed at the ocean beyond the trees. "Just… slowed down without worrying what comes next?"
Theo was quiet for a moment, the pads of his fingers pausing in her hair. "No," he admitted. "I've always been racing toward something. Or away."
She turned her head to look up at him, eyes meeting his. "And now?"
His lips tilted in a soft, almost shy smile. "Now feels like the first time I'm just… here. With you."
That answer nestled in her chest, warm and weightless all at once. She closed her eyes again, letting his hand settle over her shoulder, grounding her to the moment. Time melted between them like sand slipping through fingers ungraspable, yet precious.
They swam that afternoon, laughing through the surf and collapsing in the sand. Theo kissed saltwater from her skin. Nerina buried her face into the crook of his neck and whispered how the ocean always felt like home. And he murmured back, "Maybe that's why I ended up here."
But that night, everything shifted.
It was just after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of grilled fish and lime, candles flickering around them on the veranda table. Nerina had been laughing about something, a memory of her childhood involving a broken bicycle and a poorly timed monsoon. Theo had been smiling. But then, his phone vibrated on the nearby bench.
He glanced at it once and froze.
Nerina noticed the change immediately. "Is everything okay?"
Theo's brows knit together. "It's my manager. I should... take this. Just a minute."
She nodded, though her smile faded. He walked a short distance away, pressing the phone to his ear. Nerina watched him from the shadows of the veranda, her chest tightening even before she knew why. His posture stiffened. He turned away from her slightly, pacing as he spoke. She couldn't hear the words, but she felt them, heavy, decisive.
When he returned, he didn't sit. He stood near the edge of the veranda, both hands resting on the wooden railing, his jaw tight.
"Theo?" Nerina stood too, approaching him slowly. "What's wrong?"
He looked at her, and for a second, his face softened like he didn't want to speak. But he had to.
"I have to go back," he said quietly. "Tomorrow."
The words hit her like cold water. "Tomorrow?"
"There's been a deal fallout, major client. It's a mess. They need me back at the office, urgently."
Silence rushed in, loud and sudden.
Nerina blinked, as if she could rewind the moment just by not accepting it. "But… we still have days. You said; seven days."
"I know," he whispered, stepping closer. "I didn't plan this. I didn't want this. But I can't ignore it."
Nerina turned away from him, arms crossing over her chest like she was trying to hold something in. Her throat tightened, and she hated the sting behind her eyes. She didn't want to cry not in front of him, not now.
"It's always like this, isn't it?" she said quietly, not facing him. "You find something real, something that finally feels steady… and the world pulls it away before you can even breathe it in."
Theo stepped closer. "Nerina…"
"Do you have to go?" Her voice cracked. "I mean really. Couldn't someone else handle it?"
He exhaled hard. "If I don't go, the deal might collapse. It's one of my biggest accounts. People are counting on me."
She nodded slowly, still facing the sea. The ocean, always there, always moving. Unlike people.
Theo touched her arm gently. "I didn't expect this. I wouldn't have brought you here just to leave halfway through,"
"But you are leaving," she interrupted, turning to look at him now. Her eyes were wide, brimming, but she wasn't angry. Just… hurt. "And I know it's not your fault, but that doesn't make it hurt less."
He reached for her, and this time she let him pull her in. She buried her face in his chest, and for a while, neither of them said a word. The night wrapped around them, heavy and still. Only the waves whispered, like they knew something neither of them did.
"I was beginning to think…" she said softly, "maybe this island wasn't just an escape. Maybe it was something more."
"It still is," Theo whispered fiercely. "What I feel for you this didn't disappear just because a phone rang."
"But you're going," she whispered, clinging to his shirt.
"I'll come back," he said. "Or you come to me. I don't know how this ends, Nerina, but I don't want it to."
She lifted her head, her eyes searching his. "Then promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't let this just fade into a memory."
His hands cradled her face. "I won't. I swear."
They kissed under the dim light, slower this time like they were trying to memorize the shape of goodbye without calling it that.
Later, in bed, they lay tangled together, the silence more fragile now, every breath more urgent. There were no plans, no certainties only the knowledge that in the morning, the world would pull them in opposite directions.
And yet, even as sleep tugged at them, Nerina held onto one truth like a lifeline:
He hadn't promised forever.
But he had promised not to forget.
And for now, that had to be enough.