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After the pep talk with Shirley, I realized I’d made a royal mess out of everything. I’d resorted back to my old patterns, my old coping skills, and for once, they didn’t work. In fact, they only made it all worse.
I needed to find Shawn and talk to him. There were things to be said. Plans to be discussed. And choices that needed making. Like it or not, I had to stop pushing reality away and look at the hand we’d potentially been dealt.
Knowing he didn’t want children did put a wrench into any meaningful planning. I was in no financial or emotional state to be able to raise a child on my own. That meant I would either have to abort or look at adoption. Neither option gave me the warm fuzzies. While I was very much Pro-Choice in all things like this, I honestly didn’t know if I’d be able to go through an abortion. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I could take the Plan B. Would I always be questioning myself? Wondering if I’d made a mistake?
But to put a child that I’d carried for nine months up for adoption... I had a tough time leaving stray cats on the street. How was I supposed to let an entire human being that I’d grown go? There were no good answers. Just lots of questions. Questions he had a right to be included in.
When I got back to our room, however, he wasn’t there. I debated going to search for him but then figured that could result in one never-ending cycle of each of us hunting for the other, so I hunkered down and waited for him to come back.
Except, he didn’t. By eight o’clock, he hadn’t returned. Unable to sit still any longer, I went looking for him. I tried the lounge chairs and the buffet area. I even checked out the restaurant and theater, thinking he must be at one of them. But each location was a dead end.
Flustered, I went back to the room, unsure of what else I could do but wait. I mean, he had to come back eventually, right? It was not like he could swim his way home. I needed to be patient. Give him space and not crowd him, as I had with so many others. I would hunker down and wait to apologize. No matter what the time was.
When I got back to our room, however, I noticed our door was ajar. I let out a breath of relief.
“Shawn?” I asked, opening it slowly.
He was there. Standing by the window, looking out at the sunset.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I began. “I’m sorry I ran out earlier. And about what you saw. I can explain everything.”
He didn’t budge from the window to even acknowledge I’d spoken to him. I could feel the wall he’d put up between us.
When he turned around, his eyes were red. Swollen. Like he’d been crying too.
“It’s been a day, huh?” His voice felt eerily loud. But it was the look in his eyes. They seemed empty. Vacant. Cold. He took a step toward me, but he seemed off balance.
“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bolted. And the guy, ugh, that was all my fault.”
“No,” he said slowly. “Not your fault. Mine.” He shook his head. “I’m not good enough for you. I mean, I knew that. I think I’ve always known that. I guess I thought I’d have more time before you realized it.” He shook his head dramatically. “You do move fast, I gotta tell you. I wasn’t prepared for that. But I guess I should have been. Someone as perfect as you couldn’t end up with a guy as broken as me.” He pointed at his chest a few times so loudly I could hear the thump against his shirt.
“I just wish you weren’t so beautiful.” He sighed, walking up to me so we were practically nose-to-nose. Something was off. This was beyond emotion. He wasn’t acting like himself. That was when I smelled the rum.
“You’re drunk,” I whispered.
“Busted.” He giggled, taking a few steps back. He nearly fell over.
That was where he had been. The bar. The one place on the boat I hadn’t thought to look at, and the one place I should have started with. He was an alcoholic, like my dad. I should have known to check there first. Except, Shawn wasn’t like my dad. Shawn got clean. Shawn knew he had a problem. He got sober. Which meant when he got sober tomorrow, he’d feel like a failure.
“Hey, look, it’s okay,” I said, holding his shoulders to stabilize him. “You had a slip-up. It happens. But we’re going to get you sober again. What do you need? Coffee? Water? Or is it better to get you to bed?”
His arms slinked around me. “Mmm, yes. Put me to bed. Excellent idea,” he slurred.
“I meant to sleep. Not sex. Come on, take your shoes off.”
“Make me.” He grinned.
Sighing, I gave him a slight push, and he fell onto the bed. He started laughing uncontrollably.
As he lay back, I grabbed his shoes and shimmied them off his feet. “You’re so mean to me.” He chuckled. “Pushing me around. But that’s what you love to do, isn’t it? Hurt me.”
His words gutted me. Even drunk he knew how horrible I was. I was that transparent.
“Shawn. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes.
“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should have—” His lids closed before he was able to finish his thought. He was blaming himself for picking up a drink when the fault was mine. If I had been strong enough to stay... Fight or flight. I chose flight every time.
That was going to end right here and now. In the morning, when he was sober, we’d finally have the conversation we should have had before stepping on board this boat. I would fight for him. For us.
Wiping away the rogue tears that had leaked down my face, I grabbed a bottled water from my suitcase and put two aspirin beside him. I did not envy his head tomorrow morning, but I’d be there. Puke bucket in hand if need be. I’d help him over this hurdle. And any other that came our way. Shirley had been right. The waves hitting us in the future didn’t matter. So long as we were there for each other.
My whole body filled with warmth. I turned off the lights, then pulled the sheets over him and crawled into bed beside him, curling my body around his. I knew he was passed out and didn’t know I was holding him, but I needed it. Needed to feel his body pressed next to mine. Needed to hear the gentle rhythm of his breath as it rose and fell in his chest. For this one moment in the dark, I allowed myself to believe he loved me. Really loved me. Not empty words, but actual love.
Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath. The morning would come soon enough, bringing with it either a cascade of joy or a tsunami strong enough to drown us both.
