So they talked about sea turtles, and pirates, and she was even getting him to tell her a bit about Teague when he started shifting uncomfortably. Jack had never really told someone these kinds of things. The mundane details of his life; the ins and outs of everything he did. And she wanted to know all of it. His life as a boy; growing up as he did, the first time he captained a ship, and the like. She was very inquisitive, and perhaps the only reason he was responding to her was to distract her from her own problems, if only for a while.
The coconuts had been delicious, even more so because of the milk contained inside which Elizabeth viewed as an added bonus.
Surprisingly full after eating the fruit, Elizabeth sprawled on the sandy ground. Jack had given her his jacket to lie on, and she delighted in its warmth. She rested on her side and propped her head on her hand, bent at the elbow.
"I never thought I would be a widow so young," she said, staring wistfully into the fire.
Jack hated to go back over this, although he knew he should allow her time to grieve. But it made him so damn uncomfortable to listen and be her strength in this. It was so foreign to him; to provide a woman emotional comfort. What he was really feeling was vulnerable. Exposed to this woman, with her inquisitiveness and sensitivity and beauty…
Realizing he hadn't spoke for nearly a minute, she continued.
"Jack—I'm so sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable-"
"No. It's what you need…to have a friend to talk to…"
"Yes I suppose."
Elizabeth rolled onto her back, her arm behind her head, still bent at the elbow. She silently studied the rock above.
"You have been a good friend to me, Jack," she laughed, "I tried to kill you and still you are a friend…why?" she asked him.
He didn't really have an answer for her. His mind raced back to the seconds before she chained him to the mast. He had known what she was going to do. But watching her lips forming words as she approached him weakened his resolve. She had chained him, left him to die, but that kiss…
"Why?" she asked again, turning back on her side.
"Sticks 'n stones, luv." It was the only thing he could say. All of a sudden the fact that she and he were stranded on an island again, this time without the privilege of having the entire Royal Navy searching for them, struck him. She was here. Across from him. Alone, with a huge possibility that they could be here for a while. Elizabeth Swann, no, Elizabeth Turner…
He mentally berated himself for thinking of his dead comrade's wife in this manner. True, they had only been married for several moments before the end, but still, she was rightfully Will's.
"Jack? You haven't said anything."
Jack startled himself from his thoughts. "I was just thinking….'bout getting off the island…"
"You don't think we will, do you?", she asked, her voice holding an odd quality. She continued, "You think you and I will be here, alone, forever. Is that what you were thinking?"
He shook his head 'no' first, wringing his hands together, pretending to keep them warm by the fire. Then he stood, looking straight at her.
"Yes."