Page 89 of A Perfect Disaster

“And don’t you ever think again that you’re the only one who can save everyone.”

Okay, that direct hit to the chin hurt because she’s absolutely right. But the worst part is that, even though I know I go through life acting like a superhero, my rigid mind has already made up its mind and there’s no turning back. I’m a textbook case of stubbornness—why deny it?

I’m not going to let her grandmother go without her treatments just because I’m a selfish person determined to chase a promotion I’ve been longing for for years. I can’t look Maika in the eyes, see the brutal weight she’s carrying, and keep competing against her like some Wall Street wolf. That would make me a terrible person. And okay, yes, if I analyze it with my cold, rational mind, stepping aside is also a form of selfishness: I’m doing it because I’d rather take a professional hit than bear the guilt of watching her drown in bills. Either way, I’m not going to let Maika be the one to save me. I’d rather throw myself to the sharks.

During the first seating of the gala dinner, when the main dining room is buzzing with laughter and live music, I take advantage of the commotion to slip away. I spot Maika at the back of the room. She looks stunning in her evening uniform, talking to Nico near the waitstaff entrance. She has massive dark circles under her eyes, but there she is: smiling at the diners, exuding charisma, and hiding her personal dramas behind that tough-as-nails facade. What a woman, seriously.

My jaw drops and my heart sinks at the same time.

I send Julianne a quick message asking for an urgent meeting. I stride down the hallways with my back so straight I look like a Navy sergeant. Inside, I swear I’m a total mess. Especially before I knock on the door three sharp times.

“Come in,” I hear from the other side.

I walk into the office. Julianne is focused on her work tablet, every hair in place, and she gives me that analytical look that makes you feel like you’re being scanned at customs.

“Helen,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Your message caught me off guard. What’s the rush?”

I close the door, plant my heels on the carpet, and let out a deep breath.

“I want to withdraw my application for the position.”

Julianne is completely taken aback. For the first time in the entire contract, I catch her looking genuinely surprised. Her eyes widen, and it takes her a couple of seconds to react.

“Excuse me… Did I hear that right?” she asks, as if she thought the rocking of the ship was playing tricks on her.

“You heard me perfectly. I want to be taken out of the evaluation process.”

The tension in the office is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Julianne sets the tablet down on the desk with a slowness that’s almost frightening and gestures to the chair across from her.

“Please sit down.”

“I’d rather stand.”

“Helen,” she repeats, this time using that commanding tone. “Sit down.”

I obey. I collapse into the chair and interlace my fingers on my knees. Julianne leans back in her chair, studying me as if I were some kind of oddity.

“I suppose you’re aware of what this means, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’ve been working your ass off for this opportunity for years,” she reminds me.

“I know.”

“And in the last evaluation, you fell just short.”

That comment hits me where it hurts the most, and suddenly, my mind travels back in time. I see myself on another ship, on another voyage, sitting before a very similar evaluation committee. That time, I was trying to explain to the shore inspectors that the chaos that had ensued was a chain of unforeseen events that were impossible to stop. Maika was sitting next to me, silent, staring at her shoes, completely frozen. We were younger, more inexperienced, and that was the night our first chance to be together sank because of her silence. I needed her to defend me, to stand up for me, and her silence hurt me so much that when I boarded the Marine IV and saw her name on the entertainment roster, I wanted to die. I thought we’d kill each other on board. What I didn’t expect was to discover that that wild Maika had become a professional with a gift for dealing with people that I wish I had myself, and that what I felt for her was still alive and beating stronger than ever.

All the resentment I’ve held in my heart over the years has evaporated. Or maybe I’ve just grown up. Now that I know about her grandmother, I understand that Maika didn’t stay silent that day out of disloyalty, but out of panic at losing the job that supported her family.

“May I ask why you’re throwing in the towel now?” Julianne asks, leaning forward.

I meet her gaze with pride.

“Because Maika is twice as qualified as I am for that position.”

Julianne raises an eyebrow, skeptical.