Part IV

Why can't I sleep?

It was Charlie's idea to put our pallets together but I didn't say no. He has his arm thrown over me now, snoring away. He could sleep through anything.

"Charlie?" I whisper, wriggling about till I'm facing him. "Charlie?"

Nothing.

I sigh, trying to match my breathing to his, hoping it will calm me and help me feel drowsy. No such luck.

There's a rustling and some motion off to the left. I know I shouldn't, it's not the best of plans to ever follow anything about the island in the dark, but I won't go too far in case Aaron wakes and I can scream with the best of them if there's trouble.

I manage to slip free of Charlie's arm without much trouble and find my sandals near the foot of our double pallet. I pull his hoodie over my t-shirt since the nights are getting colder and set off in the direction the shape went. Maybe it's someone meeting for a secret tryst. That would liven things up around here. My money's on Kate and Jack. They've been giving each other moon eyes since they got back. Come to think of it, they've always been giving each other moon eyes. This could be interesting.

The moon illuminates the beach and turns everything silver. Even the water is touched with soft color. A single figure is sitting cross-legged facing the water, face upturned. Hair's too long to be Jack. Hey, wait. . . .

It's Desmond.

Well, that just changes everything.

"Fancy meeting you here," I say, coming up from behind him.

Desmond turns his head as I sit. "What are you doing here, Claire?"

"Same thing you are, I suppose," I say. "I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd take a walk."

"You followed me."

I smile wryly. "Can't fool the psychic, huh?" I shrug. "Alright. You got me. I followed you. I was curious who was making off in the night so decided to check it out for myself. Truthfully? I thought it was some secret lovers meeting."

He does a little half laugh-half sound of amusement. "Sorry to disappoint you."

I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. "Nah. I'm not disappointed. I like being around you."

"I came to watch the moon," Desmond says before I can ask. He tips his face up toward it again, smiling as if something so simple as the moon meant a great deal to him. "I lived underground for three years of my life. I've missed the moon."

"It is pretty," I agree.

"When I was sailing, before I came here, I used to sit out on deck each night, watch the moon, and write really bad poetry to Pen. None of it was any good so I threw it in the water. Too much rum and missing a woman don't necessarily mix well."

"Pen?" I ask. "That's the woman in the picture you carry about?"

Desmond takes it out of his pocket, unfolds it, and holds it out toward me. "Penelope. I thought about asking her to marry me once."

"Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't good enough for her."

"You seem to say that to a lot of people," I say, re-folding the photo and handing it back to him.

"It's the truth."

"So where is she now?" I ask, strangely fascinated by this woman. This ghost from his past.

Desmond shrugs, gaze returning to the bright moon. "Probably married. Perhaps a kid or two. With any luck, she's forgotten all about me."

"I think you'd be rather hard to forget, Desmond."

He looks at me—really looks at me—and I get the feeling he's reading and judging all the thoughts swirling around in my mind that shouldn't be there but I can't push aside none-the-less. I know it's wrong to be thinking of Desmond when I have Charlie at my beck and call, but I can't help it any more than the tide can help going in and out.

"I'm not looking for a replacement for Pen," he warns.

I reach out to touch his hair, glad he lets me skim my fingers through it, touching his neck and shoulders tentatively with my fingertips. "Good because I'm no one's replacement."

I place both hands flat against his jawline, digging my fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. Desmond doesn't stop me, eyes wide open, perhaps just as curious as me on what would happen next. What it would feel like to be kissing and feeling instead of always warning and wary.

Aaron's hungry cries stop me a hair's breath from Desmond's lips. His breath catches, fanning my face, and I sigh, disappointed, using Desmond's shoulders to lever myself to a standing position.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Not for what almost happened, but for the fact I have to leave. Aaron needs me."

"Don't trouble yourself with me," he says as I look over my shoulder toward camp. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," I assure him. "I'm not asking for forever, Desmond. I'm asking for, well, for you to let me in a little. Don't carry all that burden alone. Let me help."

He shakes his head. "We've been over this before. Go tend to your baby and forget what nearly happened here."

"I'm not easily discouraged, Desmond," I warn. "I like a challenge. It excites me." I lean close, letting my long hair brush his cheek and shoulder as I whisper near his ear "That's not all that excites me."

His breath catches again and he makes a low moan deep in his throat. "Go, Claire. Go now."

"I'll let you wrestle with your own conscience, Desmond," I say as I head back towards camp. "But mine is clear. Completely clear."