Page 124 of I’m The Worst

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I stab a potato, not sure why I feel so disappointed. “And then you’ll just go back to whatever you do. Sovereign stuff.”

He nods.

I bite my lip, trying to read his expression, but he’s giving me nothing. Just the same cold, unreadable face he always wears.

“Will I…uh…” I reluctantly shove another forkful into my mouth to stall. “Will…I ever see you again?”

Not even a twitch of his jaw. “Stop talking and eat.”

I sit there for a second, staring at my food, feeling something stupid and hollow open up in my chest. I didn’t expect a yes, but I thought maybe… I force the rest of my food down, trying not to let it show how much that answer stung.

Back in the room, steam billows under the bathroom door as Wolff showers. I sit on the bed, the gold wedding band catching the dull light, still feeling it wrapped around my finger.

I keep twisting it, rubbing my thumb over the metal.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It’s fake. I know that. But after everything—after the way he’s protected me, looked at me, touched me—it’s hard not to wonder if there’s more to it.

If he’s even capable of more.

A violent crack of thunder jolts me awake, the cabin shuddering hard enough that the walls creak around us. Rain lashes the small porthole beside the bed, water streaking across the glass in heavy sheets while the ship pitches beneath us, metal groaning somewhere deep below deck.

I sit up fast, heart hammering, damp hair sticking to my neck. The storm must’ve rolled in sometime after midnight. I don’t even remember falling asleep. My eyes immediately go to the chair by the door.

Empty.

My stomach sinks.

“Wolff?”

Something shifts beside me, and I snap my head toward the sound.

He’s sitting on the other side of the bed, back against the headboard, one knee bent, phone glowing faint blue in his hand. The light shines across the sharp angles of his face, catching the scar through his eyebrow while thunder rumbles again outside.

“Jesus.” I press a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

His eyes flick toward me briefly before dropping back to the screen. I slowly lie back down, rolling onto my side so I can face him.

“What are you doing?” Not even a glance this time. My chest tightens a little more. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine.”

I study him anyway, trying not to stare and failing completely. One hand grips the phone while the other rests against his thigh, fingers flexing every few seconds like he’s trying to keep himself still.

He’s been weird since breakfast. Quieter than usual, somehow, which shouldn’t even be possible.

“Are you checking the news?”

Outside, thunder shakes the ship again. Somewhere down the hall, something crashes loudly enough to make me flinch.

“Wolff…talk to me. Please.”

I shift closer, craving warmth, attention—something. He still doesn’t look at me.

“I’m thinking.”