Flight Risk

26 - Shore of Lake Manitoba Part 1

When I awoke in the morning, the tent was warm, but the flat sleeping bag beside me was empty. I assumed Caleb had wanted space or to explore, so I got myself ready and packed up my gear before messaging him to see where he had gone. When he replied 'the beach', I set off to find him.

On a smooth boulder off to the far right side of the beach, he sat alone, staring off at the fluffy stratocumulus clouds in the distance. If it were a diving trip, the weather would be perfect and the water calm without yesterday's gentle yet present wind. Even for non-divers, this mildly warm morning was a treat.

However, Caleb hunched his shoulders, and he didn't remind me of the man who'd waltzed around the wedding cheering me up and dancing like he didn't have a care in the world. If last night was any sign, our complicated relationship or lack thereof was eating away at him as much as the Trevor situation had with me. But that was also a vain thought. He had genuine problems back home too.

"Morning," I warned him of my arrival.

He looked up at me with a strained smile that didn't meet his red-rimmed eyes. "Morning."

"Are you okay?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug: the universal 'I don't want to lie or bring it up' signal. But if it were me, I'd have lied to close the door if I wanted to avoid the subject, so I assumed that his silence meant perhaps he was open to discuss it. The rock he sat on was big enough that I perched myself next to him and let my knee brush against his. His lips tugged into a small smile.

"Was it hard to sleep in the tent?" I pressed my flip-flops into the side of the rock.

"It wasn't the tent." So he was as challenging to pry answers from as me. At least I had experience with this type of evasiveness.

"Tough news from home?" I ventured.

He shook his head. That was a relief, but also reduced the other options for his unease.

"Us?" I said tentatively. His stiffened shoulders told me I'd gotten to the root of the cause. The last thing I wanted to do was stress him out more. "It's not a big deal. Flings are what I do best. Otherwise, as you witnessed, I'm a downright mess that takes down everyone around me. Honestly, this will be easier for both of us."

If I kept saying that, perhaps it would become true.

"Audrey, you don't need to keep doing this. I was a selfish prick who got swept up in a fantasy and convinced you it would be real too."

"It was a beautiful fantasy," my voice was light, like the morning breeze.

He sighed. "The best. I'd have taken you to every obscure corner of Australia, sharing my favourite animals with you. We'd lie in the bed of my ute, watching the stars and Milky Way in the outback." His gentle smile tugged at my heart.

Had he genuinely imagined all of that with me and wanted it? Because now that he'd thrown it out there, I longed for it too.

I sighed as reality settled back into my bones. "You're not making this easier."

"I don't want you to think I don't want this or you. I want it so bad this is destroying me."

"Dramatic much," I quipped sarcastically, despite the tightness in my chest.

Our connection had been just as real to him, even with his closed nature. He had felt that potential too. But it still wouldn't become our future.

He chuckled. "I know. The timing is shit. If it were last month or a year or two from now..."

"I'm in no hurry. Can't afford the Australian working holiday visa I want right now, anyway." My words were only semi-bitter. The condition of needing five grand in your bank account to get that visa was very unfair. I'd work hard once I landed there, but the entry requirements would delay my arrival, which perhaps for once would benefit me.