You’re a fucking idiot.
Last night wasn’t the big reconciliation I’ve been dreaming of. We’ve been making the same mistake over and over again ever since she tried to break up with me for the first time.I’vebeen making the mistake by refusing to read the room.
She keeps pushing me away, and I keep showing back up.We've both been treating that cycle as though it's proof that an invisible string is holding us together when, really, it's just proof that neither one of us has wanted to be the one to stop it.
Honey hasn’t stopped running. She’s just been using me as a reason not to look at what’s ahead of her, and I’ve let her. It’s easier to keep chasing than to get on a plane and start the biggest season of my life alone.
I carefully set the envelope on the nightstand, annoyed that it has the cruise line branding on it. It was the only thing available to me, though. Then I pull out the ring box from my bag and study the light blue velvet box before opening it.
The honeycomb diamond ring is still here, sitting as perfectly as it did the day I bought it in freshman year.
It’s hers.
It’s always been hers, and she deserves to have it, whether she wants me or not.
I close the box and set it down next to the letter.
Then I take one final look at her.
She’s it. The only person I’ve ever looked at and thought,that’s mine.
I’ve been hers since I was eighteen. Nothing’s changed that. Not time, not distance, not her walking away.
Deep in my heart I know, no matter what happens, I’ll always be hers.
Her hand moves across the sheets again, searching for me, and I can’t do it. I can’t stay here and watch her, not when I don’t know when I’ll get her back.
I grab my packed suitcase from beside the chair and do one last sweep of the room.
Phone?Check.
Charger?Check.
Water bottle?Check.
Heart? Not mine to take anymore.
I take a breath, open the door as quietly as the hinges will allow, and step out into the corridor.
It's empty. Barely six in the morning, which means most of the ship is still asleep, and the only people I'm likely to run into are crew members who are not going to ask me why I'm dragging a suitcase through the hallway at dawn with the expression of a man who just blew up his own life.
I make my way to the guest services desk on Deck 3. The woman behind the counter looks surprised to see me.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, I spoke to your colleague yesterday. I’m disembarking early in Nassau, so I need to check out.”
“Of course,” she says, glancing down at her computer, giving me time to think about Honey. Oh, shit, she’s still sleeping in my room. I don’t want to leave her and then kick her out. “Apologies, I’m just checking out because I have to get back to work. My wife is staying on, so I don’t need to check out of the room, but I would like to ensure that both rooms 216 and 217 are covered by my credit card. Don’t want her to worry about anything while she’s away.”
“I can certainly help you with that, sir.”
By the time everything is sorted out, the sun is starting to rise properly, painting the ocean in shades of pink and gold. It’s really beautiful and I wish I had another day with Honey to watch the sunrise together, but I’ll have to live in the hope that one day we will get that again.
The ship docks in Nassau at eight, and I'm one of the first people off, dragging my suitcase down the gangway while other passengers are probably just waking up for breakfast.
I don't look back.
Can't look back.
