We stand outside until Corey starts to shiver. The happy family has gone back inside, leaving us alone with the dying light and the endless expanse of dark water.
“Let’s go find your brother.” I set him down. “Then we can all go have dinner.”
He takes my hand as we head back inside. The ferry’s fluorescent lights feel harsh after the soft sunset. We find Martine, Surinder, and Cayce exactly where I left them—huddled around Martine’s tablet in the lounge area. Cayce doesn’t look up as we approach.
“Oh, there you are!” Martine’s voice carries across the space, making several other passengers look our way. “Rachel, I was about to text you. The boys need dinner.”
“I know,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Let’s head to the restaurant.”
Over dinner, which is comprised of overpriced ferry food that the boys barely touch, Martine chatters about all the activities she has planned for us in Newfoundland. I hear snippets about ice fishing and sledding, but I’m not really listening.
Honestly, I don’t care what we do. I just want Karan to be with us.
I push my food around my plate. Next to me, the boys are getting cranky. And no wonder, too. They got too much screen time, too much sugar, too little structure. But when I suggest it’s time to try and sleep in our cabin, Martine waves me off.
“Let them stay up a little longer,” she says. “They’re on vacation!”
I stand up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. “I need some air.”
Back on the deck, the sun is completely gone now. Stars speckle the black sky, their light reflecting off the darker water.
I pull out my phone and open my text thread with Karan. His last message stares back at me:
Karan
I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I love you.
But he won’t. He can’t. Because I’m not angry over one missed trip or one broken promise.
I think about the boys growing up watching their father prioritize work over family. About them learning that it’s normal to be absent, to let your wife shoulder everything alone, to live for other people’s approval.
The thought crystallizes in my mind, clear and sharp as the winter air around me: when the holidays are over, I’m asking Karan for a divorce.
The realization doesn’t hurt as much as I expected it to. Part of me has known for a while now that we were heading here. That all the love in the world can’t save a marriage when one person has stopped trying.
I look out at the dark horizon, where the stars meet the sea, and let the tears finally fall.
Chapter 15
Rachel
February 2019
When my phone rings and I see Océane’s name on the screen, I know something’s deeply wrong.
She never calls.
By any other means, it should have been a perfect Saturday. A romantic walk through the indoor section of Montréal’s botanical gardens, hot chocolate at our favourite cafe, and nothing urgent on our to-do list. We were headed back to our apartment to prepare ourselves a nice home-cooked meal, Karan holding my hand, as if we were a brand new couple.
I stop in the middle of the busy downtown sidewalk and pick up. “Océane?”
On the other end are the heart-wrenching sounds of my sister’s sobs.
“Océane, hey. I’m here.” I step aside with Karan, who cradles my shoulders as if to protect me, but he can’t protect me from this. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Rachel, I’m scared,” my sister manages to say through her sobs.
My blood goes ice cold. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”
