The Secret Island
CHAPTER 40: The Morning

No one had enough sleep, or to say it correctly, no one had any sleep. But they got on the deck to watch the sun slowly rising from the dark horizon where the sky meets the sea. The air in the morning was colder than usual, so the two of them took the blanket from the bedroom for warmth. Martin held her hand under the blanket that wrapped around them both. Celine's hand was cold, and he wanted nothing more than to warm her up. Her nose was red from the cold. We had not long until we had to go back to the villa.

"Martin." She nudged his hand and called him.

"Yes?"

"I love you." She told him again. He couldn't remember how many times she said she loved him today, and she never hid her feeling in every action, every touch, and every word. Her eyes even talked to him in silence-she loved him. Everything he received made him curious. What did he do to deserve all the beautiful experiences she had given him? Was he good enough or deserving of her love?

He put his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of this evening. It didn't matter if he was good enough. Because someday...he would.

She never asked him for anything except the promise last night. The promise that he held dear. He would always try to fulfill that promise no matter what.

"I never knew you could say something romantic...." She chuckled softly. In truth, normally, he couldn't.

"Actually, I never said that to anyone." He said matter of factly.

"Really?" She beamed, a broad smile brighter than the morning sun. She was always, as he described, full of life, and she could make him smile.

"I never lie about my feelings." He said firmly.

"If that is the case, please don't say something like that to anyone else. I'm just too easily jealous." She pulled him in for a hug after she said that. The warmth of the sunlight could never be as warm as her embrace. "Sure..." He could say something like that only to her. He loved only her.

They lingered around, not wanting to move anywhere and just enjoying the view. These few moments would soon become memories. The memories that he could visit in his mind time after time.

But in the end, we had to go back to the villa. Celine had to pack.

She had to leave this evening, and although he hated every step, he had to take on our way back and the time that was running out, he had to accept the truth.

"Hey, don't frown like that." Celine was packing her clothes into her luggage and made a comment. Martin was slightly startled. He didn't know how long he had stared at her. The thoughts in his head were a mess. He tightened his lips into a straight line as she walked to hug him.

He glanced toward all the folded clothes inside her suitcase, and he turned to his empty closet. Almost all the clothes in there were hers. And all her stuff was put away. His room was too empty. She was leaving. Celine was leaving him and creating an empty space in his heart.

"I hope you are not too sad when I'm away. I guess not. I'm such a nuisance to you in general. But I hope you smile a lot more. I love your smile...."

"And once you are not around...when we are not together, can you help yourself to feeling nothing? To not be sad?" He knew she was more courageous and mature than she let on, but he also knew she could be vulnerable. The woman in front of him shook her head.

"Of course not, I can't, but I will try because someday you will come back to me. At least I have something to look forwards to and smile about it."

"Besides, I don't think you would be pleased knowing I'm sad." She assumed, and he nodded. She assumed correctly about him. No one wants to see their loved ones sad.

She was a lot more mature than he expected. At this moment, maybe even more than he was. This time, it was he who was about to throw a tantrum and act like a stubborn child.

"Don't prohibit me from being sad about you leaving...because you are asking the impossible." It was tiring to anticipate in times of uncertainty. He didn't know when he would see her again. And he was exhausted every time he thought of those missions he could not resolve.

Martin stepped back and walked away from the bedroom. He needed some time to clear his head. He needed to calm down. This bitter melancholic emotion was not something he was used to. It couldn't be managed or dealt with. He was afraid he would say the wrong thing and his words might hurt her.

He heard her take a deep sigh. He turned to see her sitting on the bed, her two hands covering her face.

She tried...he knew she tried hard to be strong in a harsh time like this. And he didn't help to make things easier.

"Martin, where are you going?" She asked softly. His hand on the doorknob froze.

"I'm going out for some fresh air. I have a headache." He said curtly and opened the door. His emotions were weighing him down-they were too hurtful to bear until he started to feel it physically. He didn't dare to look back again to see her face.

"Can you...stay with me?" She pleaded. Although he said he would be gone for a few minutes, since our time was running out, mere minutes were valuable as pure gold.

"I'm stepping out for some air. It shouldn't take long. I will come back. Don't worry." She asked him to stay, but the heavy air in the room was too suffocating. He walked out without looking back.

He walked away without seeing her tears.

He walked away without hearing her begging him.

"Martin...please. Please don't go."