Page 56 of A Perfect Disaster

I lean against the wall and close my eyes, listening to the background hum. I feel small in a way I hate.

“I need that job, Gonzalo,” I say, and this time my voice comes out broken. “Not on a whim. I’m tired of living in constant transit, of my whole life fitting into a suitcase. Of not having even a measly plant on a windowsill because it would dry out before my next vacation.” I’ve been telling myself for years that sailing sets me free, but lately I don’t feel free. I feel suspended, as if the ship were constantly moving toward the next port while I remain stuck in exactly the same spot.

Gonzalo listens to me without interrupting, letting the hum of the engines fill the space.

“I need to feel like my life has solid ground. That I can build something that lasts longer than a six-month contract. I want to wake up one morning without having to look out the porthole to know where I am, to have a stable team in an office and make real decisions. Not just spend my watches putting out fires or cleaning up other people’s messes.” I want to stop being someone who drifts through other people’s lives from stop to stop, without really belonging anywhere.

The confession hangs in the air. God, my throat even feels like it’s on fire.

“That position means my permanent landing,” I continue. “A future that doesn’t depend on the next Atlantic route or whether I renew my contract next season. And now Maika appears as the ideal candidate. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?”

Gonzalo softens his gaze, losing all his stiffness.

“You don’t compete against that by putting on airs and being tougher, Helen. That’s for sure.”

“I don’t know how to be any other way.”

“That’s a lie. You do know how. It’s just that you’re terrified of opening your heart again.”

I laugh without a shred of humor, staring at the plastic cup.

“Everything scares me lately. The sea included.”

“Welcome to the human club. Something you should be a little more of.”

I look at him with annoyance, trying to regain my composure.

“I’m not in the mood for self-help clichés, Gonzalo.”

“Well, then stop punishing Maika for the mistakes you can’t forgive yourself for.”

I bring a hand to my chest, as if I could stop something from breaking inside me. I don’t just blame her for the mess of our past. I blame her because watching her work, seeing the impact she has on the crew and the passengers, reminds me exactly of the version of myself that failed. The Helen who didn’t measure up. The one who stayed on deck watching the opportunity of a lifetime sail away without her. The one who decided to become stricter, more perfect, and colder so she’d never feel so vulnerable in front of anyone again.

“I screwed up,” I admit, looking at the floor.

Gonzalo nods gravely.

“Yeah, pretty badly.”

“And yet, she had my back and stood up for me in front of them.”

“Because Maika is that kind of person.”

“I kind of hate her for that.”

“No, Helen. You don’t hate her at all. You’re not even good at lying when you’re exhausted.”

“So what am I supposed to do now?” I ask.

Gonzalo shrugs and heads for the door.

“For starters, you could stop looking at the shipping company’s organizational chart as if she were the obstacle in your career and start seeing her for what she really is.”

“And what is that, according to you?”

“A brilliant professional. A woman who keeps you up at night. And, perhaps, the only person on board you work best with.”

“That complicates things quite a bit. Especially with the inspectors on board.”