The Sky Beneath Her(47)

“Tomorrow is your day to find out,” Nathan said.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kaitlin said. “I bet Tula would go in a nondiving capacity.”

“Friday is a big cleaning day,” I said.

“You can join me after the dive,” Kaitlin said.

Nathan shifted his gaze toward me, his brow raised. “She’s too scared.”

I was afraid. In fact, my palms were sweating now. I stuffed two french fries into my mouth. But if anyone other than Nathan had thrown down like this, I’d have laughed, skipped the trip, and stopped for ice cream on the way home. But there was something about Nathan that had always been under my skin. If I called my therapist, his answer would have been quick. Of course you need to go. His words rang in my brain. Run toward fear.

But I’d done such a great job of running away from it for seven years.

“She’s not scared,” Kaitlin said. “If she were, she wouldn’t be on the Outer Banks now.”

I checked the dessert menu, ready to order chocolate cake. But the waitress was busy taking a large order at another table.

“We’re on land.” He grabbed a fry. “Not a drop of water in sight. She won’t take the risk of being on a boat.”

“There’s plenty of water around us,” I said. “I could see it from the second floor of this place.”

“How many times have you been to the beach since you arrived, Tula?” He drew out my name as if we were both middle schoolers.

“Once. No, twice.”

Everyone had cut me so much slack after Mom died. I’d felt like crystal, knowing I might crack at the slightest hit. At the time, I wasn’t worried about my lingering doubts. I was certain I’d have shaken them by that first Christmas. And then I was sure that I’d be myself by Easter and then the next summer break. And then Dave. But the more time passed, and the longer I followed Dave across solid ground, the more ingrained my anxieties became.

And now here I was. Still afraid. “Okay, I’ll go on the dive boat. But I’m not diving.”

For a split second, I thought I hadn’t said the words out loud. But they both looked up at me, their faces mirroring their surprised pleasure.

“Really?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah. What time?” My stomach clenched, and I immediately regretted the words.

“Seven a.m. tomorrow. I can pick you up at Kaitlin’s.”

“I’m staying at the house in Southern Shores.” I threw out the bit of information as if adding ten miles to the distance between us would protect me. “I can meet you at the dock.”

“And give you the chance to chicken out?” Nathan asked. “No way. I’ll pick you up in Southern Shores. Text me the address.”

“I’m not backing out.” But I was already running scenarios that would provide reasons to cancel and still save face. There were none.

Kaitlin texted. “There’s the address.”

Nathan’s phone chimed, and he looked at the address. “Good. I’ll be at the Brooks house at six a.m. tomorrow.”

“Great,” I ground out. “Can’t wait.”

“You can tell me about the manuscript, and I’ll show you a few videos. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

Was that sexual innuendo, or did I just want it to be? I’d been thinking about sex ever since we’d cleaned the Love Shack. Color warmed my cheeks. I drank more beer, which made my head spin. “I’ll look, but I can’t promise there’s anything valuable.”

Kaitlin grinned. “This is going to be great. Nathan and Tula, the dynamic duo back in action again.”

“We aren’t a duo,” I said. “It’s a ride on a boat.”

“We made a good team back in the day,” Nathan said.

In Greece and that last spring, we’d both helped Mom and worked well together. Both of us knew our way around the boat and scuba gear. We were both fearless. And both of us were passionate about exploring the Oceanus. Nathan had stayed an avid fan, but I wasn’t that intrepid girl anymore. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped chasing everything and had become consumed with holding on as tightly as I could.

The old me had lived a life that was completely free and unafraid. And all that bravado was now foreign to me. I needed an infusion of the old Tula’s naive fierceness. She might have been reckless, but she was so cool.

And I kind of missed old Tula. A lot. And I wanted her back. But standing between us were thousands of miles of choppy, shark-infested waters.





Chapter Sixteen


Tula





Thursday, June 11, 2026, 8:00 p.m.


Nathan’s gaze lingered on me over our empty plates. Kaitlin was at the bar, talking to a bartender with blond hair that skimmed broad shoulders and an “Arthur’s” T-shirt.

“You really should dive again,” he said. “Maybe not the Oceanus, but the Atlantic.”

“Why? I’ll watch your videos of the wreck when you bring them back.”

“Not quite enough, though, right?”

“That’s a tad harsh.” Why hadn’t my therapist texted and told me how proud he was of my progress?

He shrugged. “It’s true.”