The salty Caribbean breeze tangled through Gabriella’s hair, lifting loose strands as if the ocean itself recognized her return. The rhythm of the waves hadn’t changed. The hush of water against the shore still carried that same ancient lullaby.
But she had.
A year ago, she had stood on this same stretch of sand with a clipboard in hand and purpose in her veins. A year ago … she had also been running for her life.
This time, she was only a visiting tourist. Not a marine biologist or a hostage. She had been granted permission to venture the beaches, an apology from the Costa Rican government for the unfortunate way things had been handled.
Somehow she had lived. Thinking back to everything, Gabriella was still shocked by the revelations she had learned.
First off, it was her cousins who had paid a mercenary group to come find her. Gil, the leader, had somehow managed to trackher down, and whisk her away to Italy, where her remaining family waited with bated breath.
Second, they had remained silent on the potential connections to any mafia of sorts but the way Beatrice and Sienna tried to redirect conversations seemed to indicate something more was going on in the background.
For months, she paced those terracotta halls, drank delicious wine, and spent nights wondering and wishing if there had been any news. Each day, her cousins shook their heads, pity etched on their faces for a man she desperately longed for.
Eventually, after many threats to leave in the dark of night to venture back on her own, her cousins agreed to her returning to where everything started. To the place she had left her heart.
As she stood ankle-deep in the brisk Caribbean surf, her emerald sundress clung softly to her legs as the tide pulled back, the cool water brushing her skin before retreating again. The sensation grounded her, but it didn’t quiet the hollow ache sitting deep in her chest. Her heart beat steadily, empty and longing for the man who she did not know was alive or dead.
Because even now, she didn’t know if Mateo was out there or if she had imagined him into existence just to survive.
Her heart tightened painfully at the thought.
“Don’t be silly. He’s out there,” she whispered to herself, though her voice lacked conviction.
Because nothing about him had been imagined. Not the danger, his fire, his touch, and definitely not the way he had changed her.
It was heartbreaking.
Her phone rang then, the gentle chime carrying in the sea breeze. She answered, recognizing the name on her screen with a smile.
“Hi Beatle,” she said, her voice taking on a warm tone.
His voice seemed relieved. “Gabriella, I was checking to make sure you arrived safely.”
Beatle and his wife had met her at the airport before she was unceremoniously sent out to Italy. She had instantly connected with his wife, Casey, who she later learned studied the very things she disliked. During their brief exchange at the airport, they seemed concerned with her safety, especially given she probably looked like a muddied up tapir. Yet the warmth of their questions reminded her of her cousins, and at the time, Gabriella wasn’t sure how much to reveal. So she simply told them she was stressed from a bad fight with her boyfriend before being forced onto a plane overseas.
Regardless, she had kept in contact with both of them, checking in and exchanging notes on diverse animal life in Costa Rica. It had been nice to find someone who held a connection with the country.
“Everything is fine over here, Beatle. Stop worrying. The turtles are breaching now. I’ll send a picture when I get a chance.” She was accustomed to being doted on at this point.
“I figured but still wanted to check in.” He paused, hesitating. “Still haven’t heard from your boyfriend or seen him?”
That had been the hardest part, explaining to them that Mateo had somehow disappeared. The Costa Rican government had labeled him as a missing person, seemingly unaware of his subterfuge. When Beatle and Casey became closer with her, Gabriella felt comfortable enough to open up a little more. They had more in common than she realized.
“Nothing yet. He may—he may not be alive anymore and I think I wanted to come here as a goodbye.” The words spoken out loud felt like a confession to a truth she wished remained hidden.
“It’s okay Gabriella. Take all the time you need.”
They said their goodbyes just as a large female turtle emerged from the dark water near her. Her powerful body moved with slow, determined purpose as she pushed towards the shore. Sand shifted beneath her weight, flippers carving a path older than memory itself. And like the first time, Gabriella’s breath caught. Now, instead of scribbling notes, she stepped forward and placed her hand gently on the turtle shell as it passed her. It still felt sacred to witness the majesty of it all.
“Thank you,” she whispered reverently as her fingers felt the divots of her shell. Her fingers traced the grooves, feeling every scar, every mark left by time and survival. She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her, feeling the cool smooth shell of her.
“I didn’t understand before,” she murmured. “How strong you are … how you always come back.”
She hadn’t truly found a place in life nor appreciated it. Too trapped in her memories of a broken, failed marriage. It wasn’t until her life hung on the cusp of death that she had learned to fly again.
Last year’s events had reminded her of her true strength. Something she now used while she was learning to heal. And Mateo? When her heart had felt broken back then, he offered her wholeness in opening up again. Safety.