*Ray

She was smart, resourceful, and plucky. When she hit a wall, she found a way to get past it. Right? Right.

Ray repeated the smart, resourceful, and plucky part again, as she hung up, hoping for an idea. Lokela hadn't answered.

But she wasn't about to give up—there was still one person who could help her.

Doug. Her best roommate. Hurrying out to the parking lot so she wouldn't disturb anyone trying to sleep, she found his number and dialed. No answer. She swiped and called again. And again.

"Come on," she muttered.

"Yeah?" Doug mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Doug! Oh, thank goodness."

"Ray? Is there a problem?" he asked. "I'm coming, I'm—"

His voice cut off at the sound of something heavy falling. It was probably Doug. She winced in sympathy, because the thump sounded like it hurt.

"I'm coming as soon as I can," he said in a breathless rush.

"It's all right," she said. "There's no emergency. Everything is fine, the baby is gorgeous, and my sister is a champ—squeezed the whole little darling out of her Mary Jane without the least complication. But, very important, where are you guys?"

"That's great. The baby is here. That's...yeah. I'm glad. We're...at the hotel." His voice had gone fuzzy with confusion.

"Which hotel? I have to come."

"Do you need a ride?" he asked, yawning. "I can't remember the name of the place, but I could come."

"I don't want to bother you." She smacked her forehead. "I'm already bothering you, of course, but it's not you I need to see."

"My brain isn't working well enough for you to play coy, Ray," Doug said. "What do you need, really?"

"I don't know if I can say." She tried to chew her nails, but they were down to the stubs already. She tapped her sandals in the sand piles at the curb. The thrumming noise of the distant surf tugged at her heart, as images of Lokela spun in her head.

"Do you remember what you said to me about ohana and all the roommates at the house?" he asked gently.

"I said a lot of things," she replied.

"No, you said one thing to me. I hope I'm not mistaken, but the person you're looking for isn't here at the hotel."

"He's not?" she breathed. "Did he already go home? And what does that have to do with ohana?"

Doug fell silent for a moment. "You told me that ohana meant a safe haven where you could be yourself. It's a scary thing, though, to be your true self when you've been hiding from the world for so long."

"I've been such an idiot, Doug. I came here thinking it was what I needed, and that my sister needed me, too. I was so caught up in the confusion with Zach that I wasn't listening to myself."

"I'm glad you see all that, but I wasn't talking about you. Not that you haven't done your fair share of sticking your head in the sand, or under the waves," he continued, "but I was talking about him."

"Lokela?"

"Yeah. Lokela. He asked me to give you the letter at the hospital. You were sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you. It's a brave thing to finally admit who you are to your ohana. None of this has been easy on him, but whatever you decide is right for you, I'll be there."

"He went home already?"

"No. When he was waiting for us to pick up the burgers, a coconut fell and hit him in the head. It was bad. He's there at the clinic."

There were a bunch of words in that sentence which didn't make any sense to her. Burgers, falling coconuts, and at the clinic? That didn't seem right.

"Clinic?" she asked. She turned to face the building, still not sure she had understood. "He's here with a head wound? What the heck, why didn't you wake me up and tell me?" Ray pushed the door only to find it locked tight. She put her hand to the glass to see inside better. Was there a doorbell? Who locks a clinic? What about emergencies?

"He told us not to, you had said specifically that you didn't want him there. Ray?"

"I can't get back in. Talk to you later, Doug, you're the best. Sleep tight!" she swiped to hang up and immediately called the only other person who could help her now.

Russell was not amused when he answered.

"I'm really sorry," she said. It was true, she hated to bug people who just had babies. "Can you come and open the front door for me? I forgot my..."

Phone? Purse? Brain? Ugh! She was so bad at bald-faced lies!

"I'm coming," he said with a sigh of resignation.

She bounced up and down until she saw him come around the hallway corner. She waved. He scowled, but triggered the automated door opener. She bounced inside, both thumbs up. "You're a life-saver. I owe you one. The absolute best. Thank you."

"No drama." He was already walking away.

"Me? Never."

Now how the heck was she supposed to figure out where Lokela was if she couldn't ask a nurse or call any other friends? While she studied the directions panel for visitors to various sections of the small clinic, an image played in her head.

Some of the spots on the letter were brownish circles.

Blood?

She clasped her hand over her mouth. How bad was this injury if they had to keep him there in observation? How bad was it that he bled on the letter?

Her brain refused to function, but she narrowed down the areas by eliminating obvious things like maternity and cafeteria. She would look until he found him. It was that simple.

***

*Lokela

Lokela wasn't really sleeping, but he couldn't wake up either. When the nurse tiptoed in, again, and hovered at his side, breathing softly, he asked if he could have another painkiller, hoping it would knock him out until dawn.

She gasped. "Are you in pain? Should I get someone?"

He squinted in the darkness, the faint glow from the hall not providing enough light. He must be confused. Or she was. Or they both were, because she sounded a lot like Ray and not at all like skilled medical personnel person.

He swallowed, trying to ease his dry throat. "Maybe a different nurse?"

"Lokela," Ray said, taking his hand. "Is it serious? I'll go right now!"

His chest instantly warmed, relaxing his entire body. "No, stay with me."

"I will."

Yes, his head was still throbbing, but he could ignore it. He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.

He had no idea what to say. I'm glad you came. You can't imagine how happy I am you're here. Thank you for accepting to see me. Fuck, I love you so fucking much, I think I might die.

None of those options hit the mark quite right for the flower of light blooming in his heart.

In the end, the worst option prevailed. "I guess you read my letter."

"I did," she said. "I read your letter."

What the fuck was he supposed to say now? She read it. She knew everything, but she came to see him anyway in the middle of the night, sneaking in like a thief to his bedside while he was weak and helpless—

Oh, shit. Was this how it all ended? She came for revenge?

"How bad is the head wound?" she asked.

He squirmed. What was the safest answer? If he said it was bad, would she take pity on him? Show him mercy? If he said it wasn't bad, would she try to finish the job?

What the hell was wrong with his brain? Beside the fact that a coconut had tried to open his skull to get a look at it while he was walking along, minding his own business under its palm tree. This was Ray, the least violent person he'd ever met. Of course, he'd never made her mad and then been completely helpless in her presence before. A warm pressure moved up his chest. Her hand. She was leaning over the bed, eyes locked to his with her hand on him, her lips slightly parted. Faint light from the window glinted on the sheen of her gloss.

At that moment, he didn't care what she wanted to do to him. He'd take it. He deserved her anger, and if meant she had her hands all over him at the end, well, so be it. "My head could be worse, but it could be better, too."

She reached out as if to touch the bandage to see for herself, but let her hand hover near his face. "Do you want me to leave or get the nurse?"

"No," he whispered. "You can stay."

"It was good to see your signature for a change at the end of the letter," she said. "It was nice knowing who wrote it."

"Thank you for reading it and not burning it." He licked his lips. His mouth was dry as paper. "However, you don't have to keep it. You don't owe me anything."

Inch by inch, her hand descended to his cheek, where she brushed a few hairs away. Technically, she didn't even touch him. Emotionally, she shredded him. She swallowed and drew back slightly. "About what Zach said on the beach—"

"I understand," he said quickly. It was time to make this all official. "Obviously, you weren't going to choose one of us after the way we treated you."

"Obviously. But that's not what I wanted to say. I feel like he was being honest with me, really being himself in front of me for the first time, and it was really sad and pathetic." She chuckled nervously. "But when he said I belonged to him, it was strange, because between the two of you, I spent more time with you, but you told him to shut up, not that I belonged to you instead."

"There's no belonging to me, Ray," he said. "You can't belong to me or anyone else any more than the earth, the sea, or the sun's light belongs to me."

"You can only take what another gives."

He closed his eyes a moment. How much longer could he keep her there with him before it ended? "And you gave me so much I didn't deserve."

"Nothing I didn't want to give," Ray said. "But the only times you were really yourself was when it was the two of us in the dark. Even wen you stood beneath my window and wanted to tell me something, I know now you were on the edge of being yourself. Out there in the darkness, you almost told me the truth, then, didn't you?"

"I didn't try hard enough. The words were heavy. It was if I couldn't lift them to you, and at any moment you would slay me with one alone. You were lit up from behind, you were my light, and I was in your spell. I was afraid for it to end, so I was afraid to speak truly."

"When I went to your room the first time, I told you not to say anything. I guess this is my fault, too. I was so afraid to be swept away by your words that I wouldn't let you say them. How were you supposed to be yourself?" she asked.

"I was always me when we weren't talking," he said.

"I'm think I'm starting to realize that. But what would you have said if I hadn't told you not to talk?"

"Everything. All the words that were in my heart."

"You said a lot with your lips," she whispered. "And your hands."

"I'm sorry for hurting you. I won't be your life anymore after this, I promise. You are free to live where and how you want, without me around. How much would this be different if I'd had the courage to be honest under your window that night? If I hadn't cut it short?"

She shook her head, a wistful smile on her face. "Then let's put the frayed ends of the truth back together."

*** One chapter to go - will they or won't they figure this out? ***