4. Maya

Chapter four

Maya

I step off the boat, my heart still fluttering from the unexpected reunion with Levi. He follows me, insisting on walking me home, but I shake my head.

"Levi, there's really no need," I protest, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's just a short walk. You need to get a good night's sleep for the big day tomorrow."

He hesitates, then nods. "If you're sure. I guess I'll see you in the morning then."

I force a smile. "Yes, bright and early."

As I walk away, I can feel his eyes on my back, and my mind races with a thousand thoughts. How did this happen? Of all the people, why Levi? I should have known that returning to Key Largo would stir up the past, but I never imagined it would be this intense.

The short walk to the condo feels like a marathon. Memories of our time together flood my mind—the laughter, the dreams we shared, the heartache of leaving him behind. Seeing him again, so unexpectedly, has shaken me more than I care to admit. I thought I had buried those feelings, but now they're surfacing with a vengeance.

When I finally reach the condo, I unlock the door and step inside, grateful for the solitude. I drop my bag on the couch and walk out onto the balcony, needing fresh air to clear my head. The view of the ocean is breathtaking, the moon casting a silvery path across the water. It's so peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.

I lean on the railing, letting the cool breeze wash over me. How am I supposed to work with Levi for the next two months? We've both changed so much, but the connection we had is still there, simmering beneath the surface. I can't let it distract me from my work. This project is too important.

As I stand there, I think about the implications. If I let my feelings for Levi resurface, it could complicate everything. I've worked so hard to build my career, to become a respected marine biologist. I can't afford to let personal emotions get in the way. But being around him again, seeing that familiar twinkle in his eyes, it's making it hard to keep my distance.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. Maybe it's a good thing I insisted on walking home alone. I need to sort through my thoughts, to find a way to compartmentalize my feelings. I can't let the past overshadow the present.

But what if it's not just the past? What if there's still something between us, something worth exploring? The idea scares me. I left Key Largo once, chasing my dreams. I can't go through that heartache again, for either of us.

I glance at the moonlit water, searching for answers. The sea has always been my refuge, my place of clarity. Maybe it can help me now.

But for the moment, I need to focus on the project. Tomorrow is the start of something big, a chance to make a real difference for the green sea turtles. I need to be at my best, to give this my all. And if working with Levi complicates things, I'll deal with it one day at a time.

I take one last deep breath, filling my lungs with the salty air. Then I turn and head inside, determined to get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day, and I need to be ready for whatever comes.

As I close the balcony door, I can't help but glance back at the ocean, whispering a silent prayer. Please let this work out. For the turtles, for Levi, and maybe, just maybe, for me too.

***

I wake up to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore, a comforting rhythm that reminds me of home. Stretching, I push aside the curtain and let the morning sunlight filter into the room, bathing everything in a golden glow.

As I go through my morning routine—brushing my teeth, splashing cold water on my face—I can't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. Today is the first day of the project, and the thought of working with Levi is both exciting and terrifying.

Flashbacks of our shared childhood flood my mind—the lazy days spent exploring the reefs, the whispered promises made under the stars. But those memories are tinged with sadness now, reminders of what we once had and what we lost. I take a deep breath, pushing the memories aside. There's no time for sentimentality today. I need to focus on the task at hand, on making a difference for the green sea turtles that have always been so dear to me.

As I finish getting ready, my phone buzzes with a message from Sarah Scott, the director of OceanLife. It's a simple reminder to meet at the dock at 8:00 a.m. sharp. I send a quick reply, confirming that I'll be there.

On my way to the dock, I pass by familiar sights—the quaint cafes, the bustling shops—that haven't changed much since I left. A few locals wave and smile as I walk by, recognizing me from my childhood. It's a warm welcome, a reminder of all I left behind.

But despite the friendly faces and familiar surroundings, there's a knot of anticipation in my chest that won't go away. I can't help but wonder what lies ahead.

As I approach the dock, I see Island Dreamer bobbing gently in the water, her sleek lines resting effortlessly on the surface. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, knowing that she'll be my home for the next two months.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter, a chance to make a real difference in the world. And I'm determined to seize it with both hands.

With one last glance at the ocean, I step onto Island Dreamer, ready to face whatever challenges await.