J

March in China: Twelve postcards, daily texts, one FaceTime. I meet five new friends that I hope to see again someday.

April and May in Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, and Cambodia: Thirty-two postcards (I fall in love with Southeast Asia), texts most days but not every day, one FaceTime. Lisa gets the flu, but still makes it to Coachella. I meet eleven new friends and a million friendly faces. I head for my next adventure forever changed because the aftermath of war, genocide, communism, and poverty is still etched into the faces of the locals.

June in Vanuatu: Six postcards, texts several times a week, one FaceTime. I meet three new friends, and … a guy.

Me: Yesterday my diving instructor asked me to dinner. He's nice. Ten years older than me. I said no. He texted me this morning from my front door. He brought me breakfast. His name is Noah. I feel guilty for eating breakfast with him.

Lisa: I worry that your guilt could get in the way. Don't feel guilty. Live, Jennie. That's the point, right?

Why can't she be a little upset or show an ounce of jealousy?

Me: I want to say those same words back to you. When will you "live?"

Lisa: I have to go. My dad has an appointment. Love you.

Me: Love you too.

Vanuatu is a paradise nestled off the coast of Australia. I chose it because I've been to Fiji with Juni and Zach, and I want this trip to be my new discoveries, not reliving old adventures. Paradise has a way of making the rest of the world seem nonexistent. On a tiny island so far from the life I left behind, it's hard to do anything but live in the moment, especially with my tan, dark curly-haired friend, Noah. Aside from being my hired diving instructor, he takes it upon himself to make sure I get private snorkeling in the afternoons, parasailing, and picnics on the beach.

"I call bullshit. There's no way you're a doctor. Like … a real medical doctor." I toss a chunk of pineapple at Noah. It lands on his tan washboard abs.

He grins, blowing the little bit of sand off it, and pops it into his mouth, giving my bikini-clad body the once-over. I hide my blush beneath my wide-brimmed hat. "Total truth. I'm a third-generation doctor of medicine." He runs his toe along the instep of my foot.

"You're too young."

"Says the nineteen-year-old girl traveling the world by herself."

I give him a flirty smile, letting my eyes shift to his small boat anchored fifty yards from the abandoned beach. The day is perfect. And while I miss Lisa always, in this exact moment, it doesn't cause physical pain to my heart. Noah gets the credit—or the blame—for that.

"Fine, Dr. Noah, why are you on a beach with a nineteen-year-old nomad instead of saving lives?"

He stares out at the pristine Pacific, chewing on the end of a toothpick while the breeze ruffles his dark wavy hair. "My wife …"

I stiffen.

"I met her when she was about your age. I'm not sure how you feel about love at first sight, but I just knew I was a goner when she gave me this guilty smile after accidentally taking my black coffee instead of her latte at the hospital cafeteria. She was a nurse on the oncology floor. I was a resident in the ER. We married three months later." He smiles. It's equally sad and romantic at the same time. "She was pregnant by the next month. But she went into labor at thirty weeks." His brows knit together as his gaze sinks to the sand between us. "We were traveling. She told me to save the baby." Noah shakes his head. "I couldn't save him, and … I couldn't save her. There was just so much blood."

Reaching across the sandy divide, I grab his hand.

"It changed me so profoundly I couldn't walk back into another hospital."

I know about love at first sight. And I know about things in life that change you profoundly.

"I'm so sorry."

He squeezes my hand. "Nothing lasts forever, right?"

"Yeah …" I release a slow breath as our gazes meet. "Everything is temporary."

Noah eases to sitting, holding my gaze in his dark eyes. And when he leans toward me, I don't move. When his lips press to mine. I don't pull away. With one hand, he steadies his body between us while his other hand slides through my hair, cupping the back of my head. My hat falls off.

I pull back an inch, breaking our kiss. My chin dips in shame. "There's someone."

Noah's hand slides from my head to my arm, feathering his touch to my hand where he traces the beads of my bracelets with his fingers. "At home?"

I nod.

"Can I ask why he's not here?"

"It's she. And timing. We just met at the most impossible time in our lives." I glance up and share my own heartbreaking smile.

"And now? Are you just passing time waiting for the right moment?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"And she's waiting for you?"

It's my turn to look away. "I think she thinks she's waiting for me, but how long can one wait?"

"Do you want her to wait?"

I just want her. It's always been that simple for me.

"Well, she owns my heart, so yeah … I want her to wait. But I'm quite good at wanting the impossible."

"Hmm…" he nudges my bare leg with his "…I don't need your heart. I'd take absolutely anything you had to give. So, you've got my number."

"You did catch that I'm not exactly hanging out in one spot forever, right?"

He takes the last piece of pineapple and holds it up to my lips, while grinning. "I have a boat. I can purchase a plane ticket. Train? Bike? As I said … you've got my number."

I slowly open my mouth and let him slide the juicy fruit onto my tongue. As I close my mouth around it, he lets his fingertips linger on my lips. When he leans in to let his lips steal the spot where his fingers rest, I let him.

As soon as I get back to my rented bedroom and shared kitchen, I message Lisa.

Me: Noah kissed me and I let him. Don't respond right now. I think it would kill me if you did. Missing you has become a full-time job for my heart. The only thing keeping me from coming home is knowing that we will never be us again until I see this journey through. So it's okay to hate me. But please … love me more. Xo