The Island

"Seriously?"

"I know but... it's gonna be a long night Kate. And I have to turn off this flashlight. I don't want to run down the battery."

The thought of adding total darkness to the noise terrified her and she just said his name, almost involuntarily, unable to resist the urge any longer. She knew how afraid she must have sounded, how desperate, but she didn't care. It was too much.

Kenny couldn't remember a time when he'd heard her say his name like that and her fear was unmistakable.

"It'll be OK Katie, I'm right here."

He was a little surprised that it didn't take any conscious effort to go to her, to put his arms around her. It had been nearly a year to the day since he'd put a hand on her, each day drifting further and further apart.

Kate too was a little surprised at how quickly her body ignored the conditioning she'd been giving it to avoid him as she gripped him tightly, burying her face in his chest, wrapping her arms and legs around him, his wrapping around her until they were totally connected, totally entwined in one another.

A heavy wave and gust came at once and knocked them sideways but they held on to each other.

"Kenny..." Kate said again, her grip on him tightening, her voice trembling. "Don't let go."

"I won't Katie. I promise. I'll never let you go."

***

Northern California. Six Months Ago.

***

As time went by, Kate's efforts to move past what had happened failed repeatedly. Every time she tried to ignore it, to force herself to be 'normal' around Kenny, it just made things worse, brought the whole dreadful emotional turmoil right back to the surface as if, in deciding to try to ignore something, all she was doing was actually focusing on the thing she wanted to ignore instead.

Their life together had been challenging but it had been happy. There were some, friends and extended family included, who had tried to dissuade them from moving out of their mother's house, advising out of kindness that, even as dysfunctional as their relationship with her was, it was at least secure, safe. They wouldn't have to work so hard just to get by.

But they'd stuck to their plan and as the initial year of their living independently passed, everyone could see clearly how right they'd been to stick to their guns, how happy they were. As her relationship with Kenny unraveled after that night, she sometimes thought about how those who had advised against their moving out had simply underestimated how much strength they each derived from the other.

But now that it was unravelling, their simple but happy life degenerated quickly. Without the easy pleasure of each other's company, of the mutual, unspoken care and affection, life just got hard. It wasn't that Kate didn't feel that care and affection for Kenny anymore, quite the opposite, she just wasn't able to express it anymore.

Initially, Kate's decision to look for a Kenny substitute had been designed as a way to repair their relationship. Her logic was that if she could find another man, someone who could be a physical as well as emotional outlet for her, her lingering feelings for Kenny, her desire for him, would just go away. If some other man could take the place he'd come to occupy exclusively in her dreams, maybe then they could go back to the way things were. Finally. And they could be happy again. Like before.

So she threw herself into it. She started to spend more time attending social events on campus, overriding her natural shyness to talk to guys, to flirt. She started dressing a little more provocatively in class. She downloaded four different dating apps to her phone and used them all the time.

Sometimes, she went on three or four dates a week. Before that night it had been normal for her and Kenny to always know where the other was, not out of some conscious sense of security or togetherness, it was just the way things were. They had no secrets from each other. But more and more, as she left the apartment to meet the next Kenny-substitute candidate, she did so without talking to him, without telling him where she was going. And he never asked.

She should have known early in the exercise that it wasn't going to work but she persevered regardless, ignored the warning signs. It got to the point, after six months, that she couldn't remember how many different guys she'd been out with, how many she'd slept with. In many cases, she didn't even vaguely recall their names.

Sometimes, she was able to enjoy their company. A lot of them, she felt, were actually pretty nice guys all things considered. It was just that she could never really be alone with them. Kenny was always there, inside her mind.

Truth be told, they didn't have to be that nice or work that hard to get her into bed. Some nights, particularly if she'd had a particularly vivid dream about Kenny in the recent past, she'd have happily skipped the date altogether and gone straight to fucking. But even then, as she felt their hands on her, felt their lips on hers, she couldn't help wishing they were Kenny's. And as she felt them push themselves inside her, she couldn't help wondering what Kenny's cock would feel like spreading her open, pushing deep into her, filling her, wondering whether it would feel like it had so many times in her dreams.

And it didn't matter what kind of lover they were.

There were the nervous, inexperienced guys, like Hank. Her dreams of Kenny the night before she went out with Hank had left her just about as turned on as she could imagine being but Hank was so shy, so deferential she'd almost had to force him to take her back to his apartment. She'd pushed him towards his bedroom, pulling roughly at his clothes as he laughed nervously. And she'd practically held him down while she rode him for all she was worth. And when he came before she was done, she encouraged and cajoled and stroked and licked until he was ready to go again. It took even longer the third time.

Then there were the guys who liked it kind of rough, guys who she didn't have to force to do anything. Like Marcus, who couldn't take his eyes off her tits throughout their first drink and who pulled up her skirt and fucked her hard and fast from behind in the alley next to the bar just after they'd finished their second. Or Jack, who held the back of her head hard against him with his cock deep in her throat until she was gagging, who pulled tightly on her long, blond hair while he railed her and left the red imprint of his hand on her ass, who told her how much he loved to hear her wail and scream in pleasure and in pain at the same time.

There were the ones she thought of as artists, the practiced, talented lovers who took their time, who focused on what she wanted, on her pleasure. Pete made her cum with his hands, with his mouth, with both at the same time and then with his cock, twice. Liam ate her pussy till she was gushing, till she begged him to fuck her.

But it didn't matter. None of them were Kenny. More than once, she had to actively stop herself from saying his name out loud at the moment of climax. And more than once, she was unsuccessful.

For Kenny, he never asked her where she was going because he wanted to give her space, space to figure out what she wanted on her own. In the past he had occasionally thought about the prospect of them drifting apart as they got older, as they found and established lives of their own, settled down, started families. They were never going to be together as they had been forever. He just hadn't imagined the process starting so soon.

He tried to resist, tried to take it as something natural, something that was always going to happen, but it was hard and, ultimately, he couldn't avoid it making him feel sad, sadder than he'd ever been in his life, sadder than he'd imagined it possible to be.

For so long, he'd made the conscious decision to make Kate the focus of his life. He had accepted years before, at an age when no one should be made to make such a choice, that he was genuinely happy to forego or delay whatever he wanted for his own life, his own future, so that he could make sure hers was secure. And now that she was drifting away from him, that choice started to feel empty.

It wasn't that he regretted it, not even a little bit. It was just that they had always been doing it together, this thing, this independent plan they had, that everyone had advised them against. They were doing it together, in it together.

Still though, the thought never entered his head to abandon it. Sure, he was sad that things were different but, to him, that didn't change the fundamentals of the choice he'd made. No matter what, he would make sure that Kate had the future she wanted. Whatever it took.

As time went by, and Kate's notch was added to an increasing number of bedposts, it became clear to her that her plan wasn't working. If anything, it was only exacerbating the problem. The more guys she slept with, the more sex she had, the more she learned about what she really liked, what really turned her on, what made her cum the hardest. And all that happened was that her fantasies of Kenny simply evolved to include this new knowledge.

She could see Kenny working just as hard, not only to make money to support them but to put on a show that everything was OK, that he still loved her just as much. He still smiled, at least occasionally. But it tore her apart inside to know how sad she was making him. She tried to convince herself that there was nothing she could do about it, or at least that she was trying her best to solve the problem she had created, but it was hard to get away from a kind of self-loathing. Kenny had sacrificed so much for her, continued to do so, and yet all she was doing was making him sad. And the knowledge that she had become a negative influence on the life of the person who meant more to her than every other person in the world combined became impossible to live with.

The only solution she could think of was that she had to remove herself from his life completely, to end the partnership that was the basis of both their lives. The idea might not have even occurred to her if she didn't know they had a ready made out. A third party influence that could always have changed their lives. One that, together, consciously and in full agreement, they'd chosen to ignore.

They knew little enough about their father really and, notwithstanding their mother's feelings about him, had decided at a very young age that they wanted nothing to do with him, despite the fact that what they did know about him was that he was rich, tycoon rich, that he could give them a life they could scarcely dream about.

Even when, on their sixteenth birthday, he'd reached out to them through an intermediary, independent of their mother, they stayed firm. They would have nothing to do with him. They had each other. They didn't need him.

He'd sent a letter and a short video message. He explained that he knew an apology for his absence, for abandoning them and their mother would be an empty gesture, but that he had changed over the years, come to regret what he'd done and wanted desperately to make amends somehow. He understood, he said, that it might take them some time to even want to speak with him, but that he wanted them to know that he hoped they would.

He told them a little about himself, how he'd made his fortune in telecommunications, starting and selling a number of companies and that, while he still dabbled, he had effectively retired to a private island in the south Pacific. They were welcome to visit any time. He would take care of everything. No expense spared.

To outside observers, although almost no one knew about the letter and the video, it was a no brainer. Even Sarah and Molly, Kate's closest friends, struggled to understand why she and Kenny hadn't even found their father's offer tempting. But they hadn't. They'd read the letter, watched the video, more than once, but their interest was more out of curiosity than temptation. They didn't even really have to discuss it. Even then, they had their plan, they had each other, and that was it. That was all they needed.

Three and a half years later though, and out of options, their father's offer came back to Kate's mind in her desperation.

She came to think of it as an escape. If she stayed, she couldn't see a way that her reliance on Kenny would end, or at least not for years. It had always made her a little uncomfortable but he was always so good at convincing her that it was OK, that it made him happy. And she knew that it did.

Now, that was patently no longer the case. She had, even if he would never admit it, become a burden to him. She knew he would never see it like that, that his commitment to her would never waver, but her inability to get past that night, to get past the feelings that had been stirred in her, wrong feelings, feelings she didn't want but couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how she tried, could only continue to make him sad.

So after weeks of building up the courage, of steeling herself, a little over six months after that night, she brought it up.

Still unable to publicly confront what had happened, she couched it in other terms. She pleaded with him to see that, as time went by, his working so hard was only holding him back. That they didn't have to love their father or really be involved with him in any way, they could just take his money. Life would be so much easier.

"And... and... I wouldn't be... this... this thing hanging around your neck anymore Ken, you could have your own life, instead of... instead of yours having to wait for mine."

She could see the pain in his face when she said it and it was a real struggle not to cry, not to beg for his forgiveness.

Kenny hung his head and sighed, fought back tears and took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before speaking.

"You... Kate... you know I would never... I'd never feel like that about you..." he said, but paused, fearing his voice would crack.

"I know Kenny," Kate pleaded, desperate to go to him, hold him, but refusing to give in. "I know but... that's the problem, don't you see? You're such a good man Kenny, you're so selfless, so... kind... if we don't take this chance... please Kenny, for me. Please."

She felt almost physically dirty and, after the conversation ended and Kenny had reluctantly agreed to contact their father with a sad, dejected nod, she actually took a shower in a vain attempt to rid herself of the stench of emotional blackmail.

Kenny gave in to the tears when he was alone that night in bed. Although somewhere he felt a tinge of betrayal, they weren't angry tears, or bitter. It was a simple, pure sadness he felt. His heart overflowed still with love for his sister and he knew that she wouldn't have brought it up if she hadn't been desperate. He had known things were getting worse, had felt himself feeling worse and worse as time had gone by, but it had still taken him by surprise. And the knowledge that their partnership, for want of a better word to describe it, was coming to an end was the saddest, most awful thing he'd ever had to face.

It look longer than Kate had expected to arrange things.

She started a couple of days after their decision, or hers. She reached out to the same intermediary their father had used when they were sixteen, told him they were ready to talk.

They started slowly, exchanging emails at first. Their father evidently had not regretted his decision to reach out to them and was overjoyed when they made contact.

They composed their replies to him together, although Kenny's participation was in reality pretty limited. They were guarded. A lifetime of suspicion and even hate is a hard habit to break.

As the weeks passed though, something of a rapport began to develop. Although his lifestyle was something they struggled to imagine, he came across as genuine, positive. He was interested in them, in all they had done, all they were doing. He said he was proud of them. Proud of Kate for her ambition. And just as proud of Kenny for his sacrifice, for his love for his sister. There was little or no discussion about their mother, save for an acknowledgement on both sides that it was a topic they would need to get to eventually.

A couple of months after they'd started their correspondence, they arranged their first video call. Their father cried when he saw their faces. The moment was a little awkward for Kate and Kenny but they tried to go with it.

From there, plans started to be made. There were more calls and emails and, at pains to point out that he didn't want them to feel pressured, their father wanted them to visit.

It was eventually agreed that Kate would finish the semester before they took the journey. Although her focus remained on ensuring that, whatever happened, Kenny would finally be free of her, free to live his life independently, free to fulfil his own enormous potential, Kate couldn't resist a little excitement at the trappings of their father's wealth. Travel to a private, south Pacific island by private jet isn't something most people ever get to do.

Kenny too found himself slowly coming to terms with the situation. His disdain for their father had always probably been stronger than Kate's but even he couldn't deny, the more they got to know him, that regardless of the choices he'd made in the past and the effect those choices had had on him and Kate, in the present, he didn't seem like such a bad guy.

And it was clear and obvious that his influence, at least his financial support, could change their lives. He made no secret of what he wanted to provide for them. Whatever they wanted, he would pay for. Kate would go to whatever college she chose. Kenny too. Or he would arrange for a start in any of the companies he had influence in, no matter their area of interest, he would find something.

So when they finally settled into their seats on the their father's private plane six months after they'd first made contact, they shared a nervous smile as the sole flight attendant gave them the safety briefing.

Maybe this won't be so bad, Kenny thought, sipping at his champagne.

***

An Unidentified Island, Somewhere in the Pacific. Later that day.

***

That night was the most terrifying experience of their lives, lives that also included at that point the plunge towards certain death from 32,000 feet, so that was saying something. The wind and the waves were unrelenting, for hours, although time had no real meaning to them. Clinging tightly to each other in the total darkness, their flimsy raft pitched and rolled more and more violently. Fearing they might be thrown overboard by the buffeting, Kenny used some line to lash them to the raft but it didn't help much.

At first, Kenny tried to keep their spirits up, to talk, tell stories, remember better times but he couldn't do it for long. Their bodies were in such a constant state of tension, always trying to be prepared for the next jolt, the next crash, the next impact that they just didn't have the energy for anything but holding on.

Kate cried at first but gave up, gave up screaming too as her body ran out of energy. Eventually, she struggled to maintain her grip on Kenny but she never felt his hold on her waver.

The thought came back to Kenny, the same one he'd had when they were going down, the one that said it would be better for this to be over. In truth though, he struggled to think about anything, anything but the violence of the wind and the waves, the unrelenting noise. The only thing that kept him tethered to reality was the feeling of Kate's body against his, her whimpering cries, her heavy breathing, the increasingly weak pressure as her fingers dug desperately into his back. Given how violently they were being thrown around, he gave up hope that any of the supplies he'd tried to stow as securely as possible would still be there whenever the storm ended, although several hours in, he came close to losing hope that it ever would.