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“No idea,” I mutter, taking a random left. “Just felt like getting lost for a while.”

She taps her fingers against the side of the bowl. “What's this little guy's name, anyway?”

“How do you know it's a guy? Could be a girl goldfish.”

“Body shape, mostly. I googled it.”

That gets my attention, and I turn to study her profile as she stares straight ahead. “You researched my fish?”

“Well, someone had to.”

A ghost of a smile pulls at my mouth. “You name him, then.”

Her eyes drop to the little orange blur swimming in circles on her lap. “He looks like a Sitka to me.”

I frown, directing the car into a strip mall parking space. “Sitka?”

“Yeah. Sitka This Shit.”

A laugh bursts out of both of us. We stare at each other, and for a moment, it feels like how it used to be. But her smile fades when she looks away. The humor on my face dies instantly, reminding me that things will never be the same again. Part of me doesn't know if I'd even want that, anyway, not after… everything.

“Well.” She clears her throat and points at a department store. “How about we get Sitka some furniture for his bowl so he has something nice to look at?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I follow her out of the car silently, unsure of this vibe between us but no less pleased with it. We can't be what we were to each other, but maybe we could be something new—whatever that looks like for us.

By the time we finish shopping, night has fallen and Sitka has a brand-new sunken ship—complete with treasure chest—to call home. He seems much happier as he settles into the hull and gazes out at us with his little goldfish eyes. I swear he even smiles, if fish can do that.

“So, what now?” I murmur once we're in the car again. Rain patters against the windshield softly.

Salem rests her head against the seat. “I don't know.”

My eyes drop to the delicate column of her throat as she swallows and I tear my gaze away. Minutes tick by while I try to find something to say.

In the end, it’s Salem who breaks the silence. “What do you plan on doing when this is over?”

I glance at her sideways. “This? You mean the tour?” When she nods, I blow out a breath and stare at the rain. “Good question. I haven't really thought that far. I mean, I quit my job, so obviously I'll need to find something new when we get home.”

She finally gives me her full attention. “Is that what you want? A boring office job and a cubicle?”

Those words catch me off guard. I blink slowly in response. “I mean… yeah. Something stable that pays well but doesn't make me feel like walking into traffic every day.”

“That's it? No adventure?” Her gray eyes hold mine captive, imploring, but I don't know what she's searching for.

“Honestly, I think this tour is enough adventure for a while.”

Something shifts in Salem’s expression at my answer. She turns away with drooping shoulders. “That sounds boring.”

“What else do you want me to say?” Irritation weasels its way into my tone, and I try to soften my voice. “I'm a boring guy, Salem. We've always known this. Not everyone needs adrenaline. Some of us just want to be comfortable, work to feed our families, and enjoy the simple life.”

“Is that what you want? A family?”

Her question hangs heavy in the air. Although we’re parked, I grip the steering wheel just to have something to do with my hands. “Yeah. Eventually. You don't?”

I know she didn’t want marriage, but we never actually got around to talking about kids. It never felt like the right time.

She doesn’t answer right away, just keeps watching the rain slide down the windshield as Just Pretend by Bad Omens fills the space.