Estelle shook harder with every breath. “You—you’re serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

“But what about...Madi and my singing and...Galloway, there aren’t any facilities on the island. We made do but Coco needs nutrition. She needs hygiene. We all do.”

The smugness inside me overflowed. “I’ve already thought of that.”

Her lips parted. “What?”

“I’m a builder. I intend to add to our bungalow with proper structure and shelter. I’ll import nails and rebar and iron for the roof. I’ll install rain tanks and septic systems and vegetable crops. Anything you want, we can build, create, or grow.”

“But what about life outside the island? What about family and friends? Medicine and hospitals? Schooling for Coco?”

I hugged her hard. “That’s the best part. They know where we are now. They can visit; live there for all I care. And the rest, we’ll have a boat. We’ll have access to whatever we need.”

“And Pippa?”

My soul hurt for a moment then rehealed. “She’ll know where to find us. It’s her island as much as it is ours. I’ve put their names on the contract, too.”

“Theirs?”

“Her and Conner.”

My heart smarted.

“You did?”

“I did.”

“Can you do that? Add a deceased person to the deed?”

I frowned. “Who knows. But that’s what I requested.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Are you happy?”

“Galloway, I’m...I’m ecstatic. I’m blown away. I can’t believe this is happening.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Wait, when is this happening?”

I smirked. “How attached are you to this place?”

“Not at all.”

“How long do you need to pack up?”

“Um, is that a trick question? An hour...tops.”

“In that case...”

“Tell me.” She laughed, clutching my hand. “Damn, you drag it out.”

“You’re so impatient.” I chuckled. “Three days, woman. We leave in three days.”

Chapter Eighty-Two

...............................................

E S T E L L E

......

Home is where the heart is.

Home is where the soul is found.

Home is where the good times laugh.

Home is where the hard times heal.

Home is home and there is no place I would rather be.

Lyrics for ‘Home’ Taken from the New Notepad of E.E.

...

ONCE WITHIN A song, a music lover and a broken man found the answer to life itself. They listened, they took note, and they lived happily ever after.

I looked for the messages.

I searched the face of the check-in staff as they handed us our documentation. I tensed going through airport security and flinched as I handed over my newly issued passport to board.

But nothing happened.

No strange occurrences.

No premonitions.

No warnings.

That had been before.

That had been when I was lost.

Before I knew what I needed.

I hadn’t listened to the messages...but then again, maybe I had?

Either way, they led me to the most perfect future I never knew I wanted, and now, we were claiming it without hesitating or wasting a life wondering what could’ve been.

Coco placed her hand on the portal window of the aircraft as the final passenger boarded, the door closed, and we taxied from Sydney airport to the runway.

My stomach tightened, unable to prevent previous memories of turbulence and terror.

This flight would not be easy for me.

But I would endure it because the destination was worth any price I had to pay.

I’d already paid.

Nothing bad would happen.

Please, don’t let anything bad happen.

I wasn’t beyond begging fate to be kind. And I was scared enough to barter for a safe journey.

Madi had been told in a rush of organisation that we were leaving, that she was always welcome, and the moment we’d arranged a satellite phone and internet to be installed on our island, we would stay in touch.

I would sign the offered contract. I would continue to deliver lyrics for pop stars and sing my own creations.

But I would do it from the privacy of our paradise.

She didn’t know if this was a mid-life crisis or a justifiable decision. Either way, all she could do was wave us off with a fond farewell.

As the aircraft engines screamed and we launched from earth to sky, I placed my head on Galloway’s shoulder and sighed.

I wasn’t afraid of crashing.

I wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.

This is right.

This was the only thing we could’ve done.

.............................

Landing in Fiji was unlike any landing I’d had before.

Unlike docking in Sydney after almost four years on a deserted island. Unlike landing on vacation full of happy possibilities and relaxation.

This landing was the landing of my heart and soul. My toes touched tarmac but my soul...it flew free, escaping into the Fijian humidity, rejoicing to finally be back where it belonged.

Galloway took my hand.

A government representative escorted us from the plane and through the terminal. Two airport services guys helped us wheel our four huge suitcases from baggage claim. This time, we’d come prepared. We had medicine, first-aid, shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, and a year’s supply of clothes.