Page 123 of I’m The Worst

I don’t breathe properly until the cabin door shuts behind us.

Locking it immediately, I check the handle twice before scanning the small room—vents, exits, blind spots, anything useful if someone tries to come through that door.

The cabin is small, with a queen bed and a cramped attached bathroom.

Two days on the water before Finland.

Two more days trapped inside this mess before I can hand her back and end this goddamn nightmare for good.

I slept like garbage, and I don’t think Wolff slept at all. He sat in the chair by the door all night. The ship is loud, and the engine rumbles through the floor. All I could think about last night was that in a few days…I’m going to be home. It should feel like a relief. It should feel like…I don’t know…not like this.

I roll over in bed, staring at his back. He’s sitting exactly where he was last night. Still fully dressed. His shoulders look tight, posture like stone. Even now, he’s watching the door like he expects someone to kick it down.

The mattress is hard, the sheets scratchy against my skin, but the worst part is not knowing how to act after what happened yesterday.

Heat creeps up my neck just thinking about it.

In a fucking closet.

After he killed two people.

And I didn’t even care. I just wanted him to fuck me harder.

God, I don’t even know where to begin unpacking that. I sit up slowly, running a hand over my messy hair. I haven’t looked in a mirror since we got on this damn boat, but I can already tell I look rough.

“I’m hungry. Is there room service or something?” I push off the bed.

“The galley serves breakfast for the crew and passengers. Get dressed.”

I pull on my clothes and boots, smooth my hair, and follow him out, keeping close. The hallway is narrow, the metal walls making everything echo. Doors line both sides, but the only sound is the distant hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the ship shifting in the water.

When we get to the galley, it’s already packed. Passengers and crew, all grabbing coffee and plates of food. The smell hits me first—fried potatoes, eggs, toast.

My stomach growls.

We grab trays, moving through the line in silence. Wolff pours some coffee and chooses some kind of egg dish. I pile my plate with anything that looks like it might taste good.

I look up, watching him from the corner of my eye. His hair hangs loosely around his face. He stabs an egg with his fork and chews without really tasting it, eyes still scanning the room. Every once in a while, someone glances our way—a couple, some crew members—but no one stares for too long.

“Stop looking at me,” he mutters, not even glancing in my direction.

“Pretty sure I’m allowed to look at my husband.” I shove another bite into my mouth. “It’s what good wives do.”

He huffs quietly but doesn’t say anything. The couple at the next table talks loudly about the weather, something about a storm rolling in later. I don’t really listen. My mind keeps circling back to the same thoughts.

What happens when we get to Finland?

What happens when I go home?

Will he leave right away? I hadn’t thought about it before now. All I cared about was getting out of Russia. But with the end in sight, it’s starting to feel too real.

“Finish your food.” His voice pulls me back. “We’re going back to the cabin after this.”

I look down at my plate, suddenly not hungry anymore, before lifting my gaze to him. “What happens when we get to Finland?”

His fork pauses mid-air. “We get off the ship. You go home.”

“You’ll just…drop me off?”