"I won't say I'm sorry. I'm not sorry." Will held fast to Elizabeth's wrist even as she tried to pull away. He looked in her eyes for some sort of sign that he was wrong. Wrong about everything. There was fear in her eyes, he could see it clearly. But there was also something else. Something stronger than fear, anger, even stronger than hate.

Elizabeth was unable to speak. She hadn't been expecting this. She had expected him to be angry, happy, or something more emotional. He was silent, stoic. There was something strange about him; he had changed since they'd last seen each other. He'd become a completely different person.

Will could see the thoughts forming, all the things she wanted to say come forward, but she never spoke a word. They stood for a moment, and he relinquished his grip on her wrist. She didn't run. Elizabeth moved over to the rock he'd occupied previously and sat on top of it, facing out towards the ocean. Will waited a moment, then followed her, beginning to speak. "It isn't—"

"Who is she?" Elizabeth had decided how to talk to him. Everything was too different, it would never be like it used to be. Speaking with him while she had so much she hid was nigh unbearable. Sitting next to him wanting nothing more than to touch him, hold him, was more painful than anything she'd ever experienced. She put up an icy barrier around her heart, willing herself not to let him in just yet.

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Lord Cutler Beckett watched as Elizabeth made her way towards the island. He had said they couldn't go any farther, but that was a lie. He didn't want to be near that island, hadn't wanted to come. Now they were here, leaving felt impossible. I have to see for myself…

"Orders sir?" Admiral Norrington was still behind him, waiting. Beckett made a vague hand gesture to his left. He was staring at the girl walking back into the building. Could it be?

"Turn round and dock on that beach over there. Make sure we're not seen by those in that hut." Norrington nodded and walked of to give orders, leaving Cutler alone to his thoughts, a dangerous thing to do sometimes. Beckett walked back into his 'office.' Once inside he sat at his desk, looking out the window.

Beckett rifled through his drawers, unsure of where he had put what he was looking for. He went through all his drawers without success, and sat in the chair completely perplexed. He opened a small chest to retrieve his seal, but it wasn't there. Who's been moving my— Staring back at him from the chest was a small portrait of a young lady; a young lady with tumbling locks of brown hair and eyes blue-green as the sea itself. Do I love her? I have to see her. Cassandra…

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Will was dumbfounded by the simplicity of the question, the calmness of her tone. She repeated the question, unable to say anything else. "Who is she? Was that the Lady of the Sea?" Elizabeth still refused to look at him.

"Y-Yes." He couldn't believe how fast she had become civil towards him. Does this mean she forgives me? "She was the Lady." He wished Elizabeth would look at him. Her words were empty if they were a mask. He couldn't tell by tone alone.

Will moved in front of her. She looked up at him, the tears she felt not evident by looking. "How long have you been here?" She was more suspicious now, but she wouldn't let him know.

Again he was startled by her blunt words. "About seven days."

Elizabeth looked away. She muttered under her breath. "Seven days… that's longer than I spent on the Pearl with Jack." Will had heard the last words. With Jack. He suddenly became edgy again. He was too wrapped up in his anger and confusion to stop himself from saying or doing something he would regret.

He made her look at him again. "Do you love him? Jack?" He was searching in her eyes. Her eyes wouldn't betray her answer, but she had no answer to give. Elizabeth wouldn't provide him with this information, she doubted she knew it herself. Instead she retaliated.

"Do you love her?" The words were quick to come. She hadn't meant to say them. She could see how these words affected him. She could feel how these words affected him. He cast his eyes downward, unwilling to answer, unable to hide the truth from her.

"I—I don't know. I only know that I love you, Elizabeth. I've always loved you." The words were thin, devoid of emotion. He wasn't even sure if he believed them. The only real truth in it was that he loved her. She knew he was lying about the rest. She could see it; sense it in his words.

"How can you love two people equally? It doesn't make sense." She still had that wall up. Still she guarded herself against the accusations she knew he would make.

She slipped off the rock and walked along the coast before turning to face him. He waited patiently until she had stopped before responding. "Why don't you tell me?"