The ferry's deck offered enough space for passengers to maintain polite distance. The private island they were headed toward wasn't large enough that it was the kind regularly pulling over a lot of vehicles. The sea was pretty and calm while the sky was clear and blue.
[Perfect weather to wish to hide inside a hole from due to social anxiety.]
Ayla had waited outside the bathroom entrance to lead her in the right direction. She knew that with the running water and distance, there was no way her mutters had been heard. Logic could only do so much when you wanted to smash your own forehead into the wall.
Now, Renée found herself at the boat's rail, watching a pod of dolphins that had taken interest in their wake. The mid-afternoon sun caught the spray from their playful leaps, creating beautiful but brief rainbows. Having seen the stellar work of photography majors, snapping failed photos with her phone felt trite.
Simon drifted away from them to take a work call. His voice another distant murmur among the engine sounds, soft loudspeaker music, and soft waves. Ayla stood several careful yards away, her attention seemingly fixed on her phone.
[Modern sensibilities. Maybe the phone is the hole we are all hiding in?]
The way she held herself against the sea breeze suggested she was more aware of Renée's presence than she let on. Not impolite, but guarded. Like she wanted to have a few seconds to prepare if approached.
It made sense, but still stung. Like she was a scorpion or a snake whose strike had to be watched out for. Renée was certain that had never been her vibe in the woman's eyes - wasn't she more like a playful cat that occasionally went aloof?
Perhaps their breakup years ago had changed more than their relationship status. It might have colored the whole past in a different tone. As she was thinking this, the ferry's speakers crackled to life as if someone cranked the knob.
Billy Joel's "Vienna" drifted across the deck, and Renée felt her fingers tighten on the rail.
[Of all the songs…]
She remembered Ayla's dorm room. That worn laptop she brought there balanced on a stack of her girlfriend's textbooks. "13 Going on 30" playing while they should have been studying… simply because the eventual law student mentioned she had never seen it.
The way the dark haired beauty had decisively paused the movie and opened an mp3 of the song instead. Getting pulled to her feet as it played and her insistence that every lover also needed to know how to lead in a slow dance. The warm skin contact and the rest of the night that followed.
Renée turned her head and caught Ayla's micro-flinch, the way her scrolling thumb stilled completely. The distance between them suddenly felt even more deliberate. Neither looked directly at the other through the song.
But Renée could sense how they both held their figurative breath.
An unexpectedly large wave caught the ferry's bow. The deck lurched and sent several passengers stumbling. Ayla was still frozen in whatever memory had caught her and didn't react quickly enough to hold the rail. Her heel slipped on the wet deck and she started to fall forward.
Renée moved without thinking - though even if she had, she would have moved anyway. Her hand caught Ayla's elbow and her other arm steadied her at the waist before both leaned against the rail. The position brought them close - too close to maintain the pretense of ignoring each other.
Ayla had laughed back then at her stiff attempts to lead. She had placed Renée's hand almost exactly where it was now… had smirked and instructed. Though she hadn't 'laughed' exactly when her then girlfriend 'bullied' her later to show she certainly could lead in things.
"I… I-"
Ayla started, her cool composure slipping into melted ice for the first time since the airport. Not because the song represented anything like their 'first' time together in the bedroom.
[Just the first time we shared… those three words.]
The music swelled around them and another wave rocked the boat. Renée's steadying grip lingered on her ex, necessary but… dangerous. She could feel her pulse racing despite her attempt to control her own expression.
They caught each other's eyes as something similar flashed between them. Recognition of how easily they could still fit together in intimacy, despite the length of time. How neither of them were repulsed by the contact… or were especially hurried to move away.
Ayla recovered first, straightening up and placing her own grip on the rail. Her usual cool grace felt forced and her professional mask was still slightly askew. The other hand holding so tight on her phone was clearly displaying 'white knuckles'.
But the intention to move on from the moment was undeniable.
"Thank you."
Renée let go a beat too late - something both of them would analyze later. Her fingers trailed across the expensive linen fabric as she swallowed her remaining saliva… so that her reply hopefully wouldn't come out hoarse.
"Of course."
They separated and resumed their prior positions. The careful yards between them felt different now. Charged. If the other woman had possibly - just possibly - been expecting something even a fraction like this… then the writer understood why she had been so guarded.
[Okay. She doesn't want us to… she *doesn't* want us to get out of hand. That's fine. You didn't come here for that.]
The dolphins still played in the wake of the ferry, but neither was watching them anymore. Simon's voice eventually said something to them after ending his call. The song faded into something more modern and quickly forgettable.
The moment passed. Filed away with other almosts and might-have-beens that everyone collected in their lives. But Renée noticed how Ayla's hand trembled slightly when she pushed her hair back.
[Her ear is still red.]
The writer's own heart hadn't quite settled and the sight didn't help. Some tyrannical memories didn't need to be based in alternate-reality lives to haunt you. Some just needed the right song; the right touch; the right moment to remind you of who you used to be.
Who you might have become.
What might still be made-
If communication was handled right this time.