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So this is it? This is where you left me? Alone on a boat on my honeymoon? Possibly carrying your child? Points for originality. Most guys would have waited until we finished the trip and touched foot on solid ground. Not you, though. You didn’t even come back on the boat, did you? What is the plan? Wait for the next ship to take you back? Or did you board the sister ship Shirley mentioned? God damn it, that’s what you did, isn’t it? Are so much of a coward you couldn’t even face me after fucking me on the beach?
What happened, Shawn? Afraid to admit you caught feelings for me? Because I know you did. I know the way you looked at me...the way you touched me...it wasn’t fake. Was it?
These last few days, had I misread the situation that poorly? Was the sex not as hot for you as it was for me? The way you held me. Kissed me. Looked into my eyes... Was any of it real?
“Shawn,” I whispered to the freshly made bed. I kicked off the alligator-shaped towel housekeeping had left behind. “I wanted you to be different,” I said to the fallen beast.
That’s when I realized he had been different. He had been the only one I’d been too afraid to hold onto. The one I knew I didn’t deserve. The only one I ever wanted to stay.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. My heart leaped into my chest as I wondered if it might be Shawn. I flew to the door and ripped it open, much to the startlement of the crew member who stood in front of me. He was tall and lanky with a thin mustache and forced smile.
“Special Delivery.” The man, whose nametag read, Hank, held out a small almost wine-shaped package.
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t order any room service.”
“No, ma’am, this was a special request to be delivered specifically today.” The man looked down at the room service slip in his hand. “It was arranged by a Mr. Shawn Maven.”
I looked at the package again, wondering what it could be. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am.” Hank held out the package, seemingly annoyed I hadn’t taken it from him yet.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching out to accept it. It was too light for wine, not that it would be given he was an alcoholic, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it could be. What had he arranged with room service? Had he known he was going to leave me mid-week, and this was some sort of consolation prize? My stomach sank.
Hank gave me a slight head nod and then left back down the hall he came from. After shutting the door, I walked over to the bed and sat down. With trembling fingers, I tore at the simple brown paper, which felt cool to the touch. What the hell was it?
When the paper was off, I saw a bright yellow Post-it Note with his handwriting on it. I recognized the unique way he wrote his ‘a’ as he had on my t-shirt when he’d claimed me as Mrs. Maven. Holding my breath, I read what he’d written. Let’s have each other for dessert tonight. Zero strawberries have been near this. Happy Birthday, baby!
Tears filled my eyes as I pulled off the Post-it Note and saw what it was attached to. A can of whipped cream.
A single laugh escaped my lips before I sank to my knees, held the can to my chest, and wept. Try as I might, the tears would not stop coming even after the can lost its chill.
Either he had at one point cared about me and lost that feeling, or everything he’d said had been a lie. I honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, clearly had never had their heart broken. Because in no universe was this feeling “better.”
The worst part was in both situations, the result was my fault. If it had all been a lie...well, could I really be angry at Shawn? It was exactly what I had asked for. A boy toy to help me forget how alone I was. And he did that. I honestly couldn’t fault him without being a hypocrite.
If, however, he wasn’t lying and had developed feelings for me, then I am the one who blew it by running away when things got too real. I was the one who pushed him away first. I was the one who tried to move out of his arms into someone else’s. He might be an alcoholic, but I was the one with the incurable illness. I was the one who couldn’t trust anyone to love me for whom I was. I was the one who didn’t even love herself. He made the right call. Stay far away from me. I was toxic. So toxic I made him fall off the wagon. I deserved this pain. I deserved to be alone.
For the next two days, I didn’t budge from my room. I couldn’t even lie on the bed because it smelled like him. Instead, I curled myself into a ball beside it and stared at the walls of the cabin, mentally counting down the minutes until I’d have to pretend to function like a normal human being.
I had enough energy to call for room service once a day to order a meal I would only pick at. Housekeeping tried to keep me in fresh towels, but I wouldn’t let them in to clean. It wasn’t like I had the will to shower anyway.
I’d fallen hard. I was spiraling. I knew it, but I had no idea how to get out from under it. Everything hurt. Physically and mentally. The tears had dried up, but in its place, there was a dull ache that lived deep in my bones. How was I going to pick myself up from this? I wanted to call Skylar, my mom, or even my co-worker, and the closest thing I had to a friend, Annabelle, to try to talk through it, but I didn’t have a phone there, and talking to them would mean coming clean about what had happened on the boat, and I didn’t want to relive it. I couldn’t.
That’s when a knock came on the door.
“Go away,” I said. I hadn’t ordered food yet, so I knew it must be the cleaning crew, which meant it must be around eleven. We’d be arriving in Florida soon. I wasn’t ready.
“Open up, darlin’,” Shirley said. “I know you’re in there. Room service tells me you’re in rough shape and you haven’t let housekeeping in? I understand you are upset, but I need to make sure you aren’t dead. Please don’t be dead. There is so much paperwork when a passenger dies.”
“Clearly, I’m alive if I just told you to go away,” I shouted back, hoping that would be the end of it.
A moment later, however, the door was unlocked. I lifted my head off the floor. Shirley came in, dangling a key card in front of her. Groaning, I sat up and leaned against the wall for support.
“Sorry, toots, I had to let myself in. This is a wellness check, and honey, you do not look well.”
I pulled the beach towel I’d been using as a blanket back over my head.
“I am aware.”
“We’re going to be docking in about three hours. Do you need some help getting packed up?”
“No. I’m fine. Please leave. Everyone else does,” I added.
She tugged the blanket off me as she knelt to sit beside me. “Look, I’m not legally supposed to tell you this,” she said. “but Shawn arranged a separate way home.”
At that, I nodded. “I kinda figured.”
She shrugged. “Well, I thought you should know in case you were worried he might have been eaten by a shark.”
“Eaten by a shark would hurt less than the truth. He doesn’t love me back.” I was surprised how much it hurt to say out loud after I’d been repeating it in my head for so long.
I glanced over at where Shawn’s suitcase was in the corner of the room. “Thanks for checking on me, but I’ll be okay. I always am. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pack. Shower. Try to turn back into a human before we deboard.”
Shirley gave me a sad smile. “Okay. You keep your chin up. Your Prince Charming will be here before you know it.”
“Or not.” I shrugged. “And maybe that’s okay,” I said, looking up at her. “Maybe it’s time to listen to my mother for once and spend a little time with myself. Figure out who I am. What I want in life, instead of trying to become the person some guy I’m with wants me to be.”
“Your mom sounds like a pretty smart woman.”
I nodded. “She is.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not for a long time. But one day. Thank you, though. For everything you’ve done for me this week.”
“That’s what I’m here for, darling. Making sure my guests are cared for.”
I smiled. “Well, you do your job well.”
After she left, I forced myself to get into the shower, get dressed in Day 4 clothes instead of Day 5 because fuck my system, and pack up my suitcase, tossing things in haphazardly as I did. Dwayne would be so annoyed with me.
“No one asked you,” I muttered to the bulging suitcase.
The last things I packed were the key to the storage locker that still held our phones and his wedding ring. I didn’t even know whose band it technically was. It wasn’t Dwayne’s and it certainly wasn’t Shawn’s. I guess that made it mine. I’d only paid a hundred bucks for it, but I pocketed it into my jeans because I had no idea when I might need to pawn it.
The only thing I knew for certain was that when I got off this boat, reality would be there, ready to crush me or lift me to be the woman I needed to become. Either way, this next stretch of my life was gonna be hell. And I was going to have to do it alone. A first for me.
“All right, Universe,” I said, opening my cabin door for the last time, “show me what you got. Ready or not, here I come.”
***
WHAT? THAT’S IT? HE REALLY LEFT HER THERE? BUT HE LOVES HER! DOESN’T HE?
Find out what the Universe has in store for Jasmine and Shawn in WHERE YOU LEFT ME Vol. 3.
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