It doesn’t feel like my words had that effect at all.
Weston stands, pulling his gaze away from me as he looks out over the deck. His hands tense, his arms extending and lifting me away from him, a void of space now between us. His handsfall away and I feel the loss of heat and pressure, missing it instantly.
I fix my face into a mask of neutrality, trying to hide the confusion and hurt at the rapid change of pace.
What did I do?
The little bubble we were lost in bursts, and the noise and laughter returns, forcing me to remember where we are. I watch as his jaw works, and fight the urge to look over my shoulder to see what he could be looking at as he ignores me standing in front of him.
He clears his throat, but still won’t look at me. “Have fun tonight. Looks like there’s still some room in the game.”
A chasm splits my chest in two as I watch him disregard the truths I told him, the ones he wanted to know from our last bet. I clench my jaw, and inhale through my nose, trying to slow the heaving breaths and wavering chin I feel coming on quickly. I’ve been trained for this, how to take unwanted news regally. I’ve lived my entire life not showing emotion to my father every time he’s upset me like this, disregarding me and brushing me aside.
If I could do it then, I could do it now.
Weston steps around me before pausing, and I catch a twitch of his fingers, like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching out.
“Let me know if you decide to jump off my ship and go for a swim.”
He leans to the side and presses a firm kiss to the top of my head, a few heartbeats passing before his lips leave my hair, and he walks away without even a backward glance.
Painful tears prick my eyes, and my chest heaves with the breaths I didn’t want him to see. The kiss feels like a slap, and watching his back as he walks away feels like a door firmly closing on any possibility with him, especially in the wake of tonight.
It’s over. This was my last chance.
My chest feels like it is caving in, my stomach sinking as I fall in on myself. Folding my arms over my abdomen, I watch the rest of the crew out on the deck enjoying themselves. I spot Fin curled up and asleep on a large cushion, a blanket draped over him, the excitement obviously too much.
I fight back tears as I watch everyone I have grown so fond of, knowing that I am about to walk away from them, even if my entire goal is to help. They might not see it that way. They might not think I’ll come back, and maybe they’ll believe that my entire time here was a lie, despite it starting out that way.
No one has ever left and gone back to the Voyagers.
I will be the first.
But I will return, dust in hand. There’s no other option.
I didn’t want to leave like this, not feeling hopeless and worried, not leaving Weston with any question that I wouldn’t return. After the way everything unfolded, the feelings of rejection coursing through me, I can’t help but wonder if I made a huge mistake.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Lying in bed, pretending to be asleep feels too familiar, like I’m reliving the night from months ago, waiting for Weston to fall asleep before I try to escape. So much has changed since that night. I’m not the same person, and I’m not doing this for the same reasons.
After watching him walk away from me on deck, I spent the rest of the evening on the cushion next to a sleeping Fin, watching the fire as Auralie and I talked, occasionally joined by various members of the crew. Sig hovered in my periphery, faking the same joviality I had been with Weston. I know because every so often we would make eye contact, and I knew the plan was still underway.
We were still leaving tonight.
Weston watched me all night; I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to look. He had been the one to kiss me, but clearly, whatever was between us wasn’t enough to overcome whatever was holding him back. It didn’t matter how his actions and touches told me one thing, but his words said another. I wasn’t going to let him see the hurt in my eyes, so I focused on the flames and the rest of the crew’s happiness.
My shoulders tensed when I felt him approach at one point, but he only leaned down to pick up Fin, bringing him below deck to bed. Keeping my shoulder angled away, ignoring him, I used it as an opportunity to head to bed, disappearing from the deck before he returned.
Hours pass before he finally comes to the room, not anywhere close to drunk like before, and I worry about the possibility of getting caught. I listen and wait until the breaths I have become so familiar with even out, and I know he is asleep. When I think it has been long enough, I roll gently to my back and look over at him, watching his back rise and fall in measured breaths.
Sliding to the edge of the bed, I gently press my feet into the floor, doing everything possible not to make a sound. Dressing quickly, I grab my dagger and walk toward the door, slowly pressing each step into the ground intentionally, trying not to make any of the boards creak under my weight.
When I make it just past the desk, the rustling of the sheets makes my body freeze. I close my eyes and bite my lip, breathing deeply to stay as still as possible, and praying to the gods he didn’t wake.
“Please don’t leave.”
Fuck.
