But he’d lost all that. He’d lost not just the woman, but also his dreams and aspirations. The life he’d been supposed to live. The career pathway he’d had all plotted out in his head without even knowing if he could be a decent surgeon. He’d barely had the chance to hold a surgical scalpel.
The resentment had flowed through his blood for years. He’d resented her for walking away and leaving him. He’d resented her for carrying on with her career. He’d resented the fact she’d had a life whilst he felt as if he’d been stuck in limbo.
His training in London hadn’t fulfilled him; it hadn’t captured his passion and enthusiasm and he’d wondered if he would ever get that back.
Joining Doctors Without Borders was his way out. It was his way of trying to live again. Trying to feel useful. He’d saved lives. He knew he had. And knowing that had helped in a way. He might not have been able to save his parents, but he had been able to save others. And for five years he had. In lots of different ways. He still felt a little numb. Some days that had been the only way to survive out there, to just block out certain things so you could continue to function. But the camaraderie with the other staff had been amazing. He’d felt valued—an essential part of the team. He’d worked hard to make others feel that way too and do the absolute best job that he could.
And he’d made friends—good friends that he would have for life.
But the truth was that everyone burned out over there. He had too.
And once you’d burned out it was time to leave. The bosses at Doctors Without Borders often recognised it before the staff did.
Australia had always been the aspiration. Now, it was a reality. But it wasn’t working out quite how he had thought. Lewis was a good colleague. And the hospital he’d been working in was fine. But, the truth was, when he woke up in the morning his job wasn’t the first thing on his mind.
He’d changed. Life had changed. And as he glanced across the canteen he wondered how life had changed for Rachel too.
Len cleared his throat, then took a drink of his beer. He was off duty tonight. Officially, Nathan was off duty too. But even a couple of beers didn’t appeal.
‘Well, maybe it’s time.’
Nathan frowned. ‘Time to do what?’
‘Time to find out if eight years’ worth of bad feeling is worth it.’ He winked at Nathan. ‘I’ve got a nice bottle of chilled Barramundi behind the bar.’ He nodded towards the wall that had the shooting schedule on it. ‘There’s nothing scheduled for tonight. Nothing will happen, apart from the celebrities fighting over whose turn it is to empty the dunny. Why don’t you take a seat down at the beach with the fine lady and have a chat? I hear the sunsets around here are to die for.’
‘Not a chance.’ The words were out of his mouth immediately. He hadn’t even given it a moment’s consideration in his head.
Because it was more than a little tempting.
Len stood up. ‘Well, if you change your mind I’ll leave the bottle in some ice at the bar. Up to you, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow at the cliffs. Let’s see how fast you can climb.’
Rachel and Ron had stood up and were clearing their trays. Len picked up his and walked over to the kitchen doors, exchanging a few words with them on the way.
Nathan stared down at his steak. The food here had been surprisingly good. He’d heard from the crew that television jobs were often judged on the catering and, if Celebrity Island was anything to go by, people would be fighting to get a job here. But his appetite had left him.
The seed that had planted in his brain earlier was beginning to bloom and grow. The more he was around Rachel, the more he realised just how much he’d done to try and avoid being in the same position again—the position where Rachel walking away had hurt more than any physical pain he’d experienced.
He’d spent eight years never really forming true relationships. He still had a good relationship with his brother, Charlie, and a few good friends from university. But other than that? The experience of losing his parents and Rachel so soon after seemed to have affected him more than he’d realised. Trusting someone with his heart again just seemed like a step too far. It was much easier to totally absorb himself in work and other issues. Trouble was, this island didn’t have enough work to keep him fully occupied, leaving him with far too much thinking time.
He cleared his tray and murmured a few words of greeting to some of the other crew members. He didn’t feel like socialising tonight, but on an island as small as this—with some parts out of bounds for filming—it could be difficult to find some space. The atmosphere in the cabin was becoming claustrophobic. And he was sure it was all him. Rachel seemed relaxed and at ease. She’d obviously got over the whole thing years ago. It wasn’t giving her sleepless nights.
He kicked off his trainers and wandered down to the beach. The path was only lit with a few dull lights and the insects were buzzing furiously around him. The waves around this island were a disappointment. Nathan had counted on spending a few hours in the surf every day but it wasn’t to be. As a result, he hadn’t spent much time on the beach.
He saw her as soon as his feet touched the cool sand. Saw the pink wrap around her, rippling in the nighttime breeze.
Len had obviously whispered in her ear. A silver wine cooler was on the sand next to the sun lounger she was sitting on, a glass of wine already in her hand.
He should leave her in peace. She was probably trying to escape, just like he was.
Or he could join her. He could ask her about Ron. It was a pathetic excuse. Even he knew that. But from a fellow medic it was a reasonable question. He stuck his hands deep into his shorts pockets as he moved across the sand towards her.
She was silhouetted against the warm setting sun, which sent a peachy glow across her skin. The condensation was visible on her wine glass as she took a sip.
‘Don’t spoil this, Nathan.’
Her words almost stopped him in his tracks. He paused for a second, his toes curling against the sand. He knew exactly what she meant. But somehow he still didn’t want to go there with her.
‘Don’t worry. Wine’s not really my thing. I prefer a beer.’ He missed out the obvious remark. Remember?
It was flippant, completely circumventing the whole issue. She didn’t turn at his voice, just kept her gaze fixed on the horizon and let out a sigh.
She sipped at her wine. ‘I’m tired, Nathan. I’m tired of all this.’
It seemed as if the barriers were finally down. Rachel was saying what had been on her mind since she’d first set foot in the medical cabin and caught sight of him.
If she’d said those words a few days ago his temper would have flared. How dare she be the one to be tired of the atmosphere between them when it was just as much her fault as his?
But the last few days had made his head spin. He couldn’t work out how he really felt about her.
He’d felt it all. Searing jealousy when Darius had appeared. A whole host of sensations when his skin had come into contact with hers. Confusion and rage for the first few days. Flares of passion. His gaze couldn’t help but linger on her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Certain glances, nuances, would make his heartbeat quicken and send his blood racing around his body. All sensations he wanted to deny, to ignore.
He hadn’t expected to see Rachel again. And he certainly hadn’t expected to feel like this around her. Feeling was the problem. It was interfering with everything and because they were virtually stranded on an island together, that seemed to amplify it all.
He