Page 100 of If I Go Down with This Ship

Silasscreams.Sir hisses from somewhere between us before climbing over me and hopping to the floor.It takes a moment for me to understand what’s going on as I sit up, searching in the dim morning light for him.My hands find Silas’s arm and squeeze.

“Hey,” I whisper as I gently shake him.“Silas, it’s okay.It’s just a dream.”

Silas sits up, slamming his head into mine.

“Fuckity-fuck,” I curse, rubbing the spot.

“Oh fuck, Laszlo, are you okay?”He wipes his arm across his face and blinks down at me as I slide out of the bed, holding my head with a groan.

“I’m fine,” I say, waving a hand in dismissal.

He laughs weakly as he swivels from me and scoots to the edge of the bed.Grabbing his cane, he stands and carefully makes his way to the bathroom to wash his residual limb.I lean against the door as steam fills the bathroom, closing my eyes as the throbbing in my skull subsides.

“What are we doing today?”he calls.

“Meeting some friends.”

The water shuts off, and a moment later, he rounds the corner with a raised brow but says nothing as he leans against the wall next to the bed.He reaches for the silicone liner on his nightstand, a glove-like sock that’s worn under his prosthesis.He turns it inside out before carefully rolling it on, making sure there are no air bubbles.Grabbing his prosthesis and sitting on the edge of the mattress, Silas pulls it on and does up the lanyard suspension strap to lock it in before standing again.He walks a bit, testing his weight before taking a few steps toward me.“Still getting accustomed,” he says as he stops before me.

I smile down at him and cradle his face, smoothing my thumb over his cheek.“I’m just happy to see you smiling again.”

With a breathy laugh, Silas kisses me on the cheek as he moves past me toward the kitchen.With a sigh, I follow him.

There is no guidebook for boyfriends of pirate captains, and when I asked him if he wanted to talk to someone about all the things he’s seen and done, he looked at me with narrowed eyes and said, “Who would even believe me?”

A fair point.

He feeds Sir a small plate of wet food before he pulls eggs and bacon from the fridge, turning to the stove as he opens the packet.It’s become routine, this waking up from screams, rolling out of bed, and making breakfast.I dump some freshly ground coffee into the French press and boil water, turning to lean against the breakfast bar.Peeling an orange, I admire the way the muscles on his shoulders and back flex with each movement, coiling and uncoiling as he cracks the eggs in thepan.The scars along Silas’s skin are hidden in the lines of his tattoos, but I know where each one is, can see them catch the light as he moves, can see the slight bump or knot of skin beneath the ink.

Sir sits patiently at his feet, chirping until Silas sneaks him a small piece of bacon, holding up a finger in a silent pact as if I didn’t just witness the entire exchange.

“What?”Silas asks with a laugh as he glances over his shoulder, reaching across the distance to snatch an orange slice from my hand.

“Nothing.”

He hums before he plates up the food and hands me a fork.

There is comfort in our life, a comfort I never knew I’d have, and I can’t help but smile as Silas shuffles over and reaches for the shirt he ironed and left hanging on the laundry room door last night, buttoning it up with clumsy fingers.It’s one of the most pirate-esque things he could find: a bright blue shirt covered in palm leaves.

I shower and change, fidgeting as I straighten my sleeves before reaching for a tie.

“You’re being so strange today,” he says with a laugh, catching my eye across the bedroom as he smooths down the pant leg over his prosthesis.

I adjust my collar, folding it over my tie before pulling on my suit jacket.I can feel the weight of my old journal in my pocket, and my face grows warm at the thought of what I’m about to do.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I say as I slip my phone into my pocket.

He clucks his tongue as if he doesn’t believe me but doesn’t push for any more information.

After we’ve finished getting ready, Silas and I walk silentlyto the park, past the trees and familiar people we’ve become acquainted with in the three months at our new flat.We scurry past The Shard and the large crowds gathering at Borough Market and cut toward the docks, sidling up alongside the water.People smile and wave at us as we move past them, and Silas shoots a suspicious glance my way.

“What are you up to, Laszlo?”

“Nothing,” I say with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Silas did teach me how to lie well, after all.

When we arrive at the pier and the replica ofShe Deceitfulbobs in the water before us, Silas can’t help himself; hesmiles.He works with George now, taking the small ship out on the water and teaching kids and teens how to sail a real-life pirate vessel.It’s the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I find excuses to join them from time to time just to see him at work.What can I say—there’s nothing hotter than Silas sailing.