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“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll take the job. I’ll leave. I’ll do it all. Just… leave Titan out of this. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I disagree, but that’s neither here nor there. We have a deal. I’ll be waiting for you at the docks in an hour.” He hangs up without another word.
I collapse onto the bed, curling up in a ball and letting the tears consume me.
I allow myself ten minutes of rage crying before I sit up, wipe my face, and throw my things into a suitcase. This is what needs to happen. If all I have of Titan is this summer fling, then it will have to be enough. I can’t imagine ever being with anyone else, so the memory of Titan will have to suffice.
Half an hour later, I step onto the boat my father has sent for me. Titan is no doubt still working on the rig with his men and not paying attention to anything happening on the ship.
I take one last look at the place I called home for a few short weeks and notice the same red-haired guy from the first day leaning over the top balcony. Peter. He waves at me, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
He’s the one who told my dad. I know it.
Too bad none of that matters now.
I turn around, facing the shore. It’s a short boat ride to the mainland, each passing minute bearing down on me until I can hardly breathe. I wonder if this is how I’ll feel from now on, knowing I’ll never see Titan again.
11
TITAN
Everything hurts.
I groan, rolling over in bed, and stare at the clock on the side table—three in the goddamn morning.
Honestly, it’s the longest I’ve slept in over a week. Eleven days, to be precise. Eleven long days since I’ve seen Cora. Eleven miserable days since she left without so much as a goodbye, let alone an explanation.
When I first discovered her missing, I panicked, thinking something bad had happened. Maybe she fell overboard or tripped and hit her head. Visions of her bleeding out at the bottom of a staircase flashed in my mind, and I tore through the ship, searching everywhere for her.
Then that fucker, Peter, told me he saw her on a boat, headed toward shore with her luggage. I didn’t believe him at first, but then I searched her cabin more thoroughly and noticed everything was missing. Her clothes, shoes, hair ties… all gone. No luggage in the small closet. No phone, no purse, just… nothing.
Sitting up in bed, I rub my eyes, trying to forget the moment I realized she left me. It’s no use.
The crushing despair that’s always in the back of my mind surges to the surface, overwhelming me as I try to catch my breath. God, it hurts. Excruciating pain radiates from my chest as my mind falls down an all-too-familiar spiral.
I deserve this. She realized I was no good for her. I need to let her go.
I throw the covers off and stand, needing to do something with this restless energy. I pace back and forth in my small cabin, freezing in my tracks when I catch a whiff of her sweet strawberry scent. It still lingers here and there, haunting me.
I don’t understand what happened between the morning we spent together working on the last of the time cards and the afternoon when I went to investigate why the pipe deck crane stalled out.
Cora and I teased each other that morning. Flirted. Or as close to flirting as I’m capable of. We did a few rounds of who could enter the most files into the system in ten minutes, and she won, as always. I tickled her until she collapsed into my lap, then kissed her until we were both dizzy.
I sent her off to lunch while I finished a few things, and then… that was it.
I wish I knew that was going to be the last time I saw her. I would have savored it. Pulled her into me for another kiss. Another hug. Another touch. Anything. I would have told her what’s been on the tip of my tongue for days now. I love her.
God. I never said it. I felt it long before I had a word for it, but once I got it through my thick skull that this was the real thing, everything fell into place. I love her.
I love her, but I was too much of a coward to say anything. Now, I never will.
Grunting, I try dispelling those thoughts. They’re no use to me. I’ll have to figure out how to live without a heart. I did it once after my parents died. I’m not sure I can do it again.
I hop in the shower, keeping the water nice and cold—anything to distract me from the ache in my chest. By the time I dry off and dress, it’s a little after four. First shift starts in an hour and a half, so some men will be up already. Hopefully, that means coffee is already brewed.
When I get to the mess hall, I fill up my thermos to the top and find a seat in the furthest away corner, tucked behind a stack of pallets leftover from restocking yesterday. It suits me perfectly. No one will see me, so no one will bother me. My men are used to my brutish behavior, but even I can admit I’ve been extra impatient and growly since Cora left.
I’m halfway through my second refill of coffee so strong I’m chewing it, when my least favorite crew member walks in through the doors.
