Lost and Found

Chapter Thirty-Two

Nate stared at the Indian Ocean through the fronds of a palm tree. The setting sun painted the sky mauve and apricot, the wispy clouds darker shades of lavender and peach. Turquoise water washed gently onto white sand. He framed the view into a shot in his mind’s eye.

He’d shot over a thousand images since he’d arrived in Indonesia, and he knew many of them were incredible. Different than anything he’d shot before. He’d been looking for scenes to express the conflict inside him and had created powerfully moving images of strength and weakness, light and dark, yearning and loss.

His cell phone buzzed at his hip and he slid it out of the holder and flipped it open. His brother Rich. Huh.

“Hey.”

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” Nate picked up his beer, the cold glass dripping with condensation in the warm, humid air. “What’s up?”

They’d spoken often since Nate had shown up back in L.A. four months ago. After leaving Krissa and Derek’s place, Nate had driven himself to a motel in Ventura where he’d spent a miserable couple of days, almost out of his mind with everything that had happened. Then he’d managed to get his shit together and drive home to see his parents. He’d spent a few weeks there, told them most of what had happened—his relationship with Krissa too confusing and emotionally raw to talk about—and had reconnected with his brothers.

He’d been shocked to find himself confiding in Rich what had occurred with Derek and Krissa. It had been a relief to share it with someone, to acknowledge the fucked-up mess he’d made of things and the painful feelings inside him. Then he’d hit the road again, back to business, but this time with frequent calls and a couple of quick trips home to his family.

“I ran into someone the other day and had an interesting conversation,” Rich told him.

“Yeah?” Nate leaned back into the thick cushion of the rattan chair on the terrace of his hotel.

“Yeah. A guy from Santa Barbara who knows Derek.”

Nate’s gut clenched. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he told me Derek and Krissa split up.”

Nate slowly sat up straight. “Split up?”

“Yeah. They’re done. He didn’t know details, not that I wanted to ask much, but…I thought you might want to know that.”

Nate rubbed his face. “Uh…yeah. Wow.”

“I’ll let you go. When are you coming home next?”

“I…don’t know.” He couldn’t think, couldn’t remember his plans. “I’ll call you.”

“Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Silence. Nate studied the bright floral print of the cushions on the chairs.

“Nate?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Great. Thanks, Rich.”

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it onto the rattan and glass table with a clatter. He pressed the cold, wet glass of beer to his forehead. They’d split up? What the hell? What had happened?

Nate had had a lot of time to think about things over the last few months. He’d learned a lot about himself. The enormous guilt he’d carried about falling in love with another man’s wife—his best friend’s wife—had not been made any lighter by the revelation that Derek had already betrayed Nate with his wife. Two wrongs did not make a right.

But admitting and accepting his own imperfections helped him accept Lauren’s cheating, her senseless death, and to deal with the fact that the baby she’d carried had been his.

Damn Rich for calling and telling him that. His stomach cramped and his heart constricted with worry about Krissa, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about her, all night and all the next day. Ah, who was he kidding? He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he’d left Santa Barbara. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t remembered her sweet smile, her sparkling green eyes, the touch of her hands. He ached with missing her, even now, and had begun to wonder how long it would take to get over her. Now, thoughts of Krissa alone, without Derek, obsessed him, occupied every corner of his mind. When he found himself staring blankly through the lens of his camera, not even seeing the subject of the image he was attempting to capture, he knew what he had to do.