“When did you… Oh,” he nods, understanding. “Thank you. I have a thing for handwriting, too. It’s a lost art these days. People don’t appreciate it as much as they used to.”
“I taught myself calligraphy,” I tell him as we step onto the yacht.
“That’s impressive. It shows your levels of patience. I’d love to see it someday,” he smiles, his eyes warm and friendly, not dangerous or full of warning. Still, the tension in my stomach doesn’t leave. I can’t help but think he’s going to sail us out into the middle of the ocean and shove me overboard. It would be so easy. He wouldn’t even have to get his hands dirty. He could just leave me floating there for certain death.
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Welcome aboard,” the captain says, greeting us.
“Hi, Captain Jake, this is Stefania,” Marlen says.
“Hi, Captain Jake,” I smile, shaking his hand.
“Just Jake is fine.” He bows his head in greeting.
The cabin crew takes our luggage and asks me if I would like to see my cabin or have a tour of the yacht.
“Show her to her cabin so she can settle in while we leave port. I’ll give her a tour of the yacht once we’re on our way and she’s ready,” Marlen answers on my behalf. I let the young man lead me to my cabin, wondering what I need to get ready for.
***
Marlen doesn’t sail me to the middle of the ocean and drop me in the ocean. Not yet, anyway.
Instead, we sail to a very small island, arriving late in the evening after the most incredible sunset I’ve ever seen. It painted colors too beautiful to describe across the surface of a calm ocean, and honestly, I’ll never forget that moment. It’s an image that’s forever etched into my memory.
The island’s lights grow brighter as we get closer.
“You can anchor here, then give us a lift to shore,” Marlen tells the captain, who is standing out on the deck with us.
“Yes, sir, will you be taking the…”
“Let’s do the fun choice tonight,” he grins.
“Yes, sir,” the captain says, smiling as he walks away.
“Leave your sneakers on the yacht. The crew will bring them for you with the luggage,” Marlen says, looking excited.
The fun choice turns out to be jet skis.
I’m perched on the back of one, my thighs spread around Marlen’s hips, my arms wrapped around his waist, my cheek pressed into his back, and my heart running full speed as he races us away from the yacht.
“Couldn’t we go with the luggage on the little boat?” I shout, but he can’t hear me.
Water splashes up and into my face, cool and salty. I close my eyes and try to tell my heart it doesn’t have to be afraid and that I should enjoy this experience. It’s only my fear of what Marlen has planned for me that’s stopping me from doing so.
You love this sort of spontaneous adrenaline, Stef, enjoy it!
I force myself to pull my head up, to look around, to try and take it all in.
Marlen doesn’t go straight for the shoreline; he takes us on a ride all the way around the island, stopping when we’re floating in front of a little village.
“A lot of people call this place home. This side of the island is for those people; the other side is my resort,” he tells me. I look across the village. Glowing lights and laughter drift across the ocean from the shoreline. There is a bonfire on the beach and people sitting around it, enjoying the warm evening.
“Yourresort?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, it’s a small luxury escape from my life. I needed somewhere to go where no one would find me. A place to clear my thoughts and have a real break.”
“So, you built a resort?” I scoff.
