He doesn’t find it.
“This isn’t about fixing my marriage,” I add, because I need to be honest about that part. “It’s about remembering who the hell I am. And maybe—” I swallow. “Maybe giving her a sign that I’m not giving up. That I’m all in.”Hiccup.“Forever.”
Rocky exhales slowly. “You’re really doing this.”
“Yeah,” I say, already pushing off the bar. “I am.”
The floor tilts as we head for the elevator.
Time to play a little offense…
DAY 2, AT SEA
ASHLEY
“We can start over, just give me a chance…”
Oh, God, my traitorous heart wanted to say yes.
My head didn’t let me.
If I let him pull me in again, surrounded by the sun and the ocean, with flowers and champagne and all the makings of a romantic getaway…
And then go home with all the problems that led us to this point still waiting to tear us apart again.
I could lose myself completely.
And I can’t do that. To myself, or to my boys.
So I told him the only thing that might keep us safe.
I don’t love you anymore.
And he left.
He didn’t say“You don’t mean that”or“Just tell me what you need”, he walked away.
Something he’d gotten really good at doing lately.
I don’t sleep after that. Instead, my brain spins through one scenario after another.
Was he in the fitness room, working off his frustrations? Sitting in some bar, drowning them instead? Or… was he flirting with someone in one of the dance clubs?
We are technically separated… But, no. He wouldn’t do that. Not on the ship where any member of my family or wedding guest might see him.
But as soon as I dismiss that fear, I stumble upon a worse one.
Would he do something… reckless? Something final?
The image of him going overboard hits me like a wave, cold and dizzying, and I have to sit up just to breathe. But no—Beckett wouldn’t do that. No matter what, he’d never do that to our boys.
Still, when the door finally opens and he stumbles back in, alive and… mostly upright, I exhale for the first time in hours.
He falls onto the sofa bed with a groan, setting the metal joints and springs creaking under the sudden weight, and within a minute, the sound of his breathing fills the room.
And as it evens and slows, the frantic back-and-forth in my brain finally comes to a halt, soothed by his presence.
Eventually, exhaustion drags me under, and it feels like I’ve barely slept a wink when my alarm slices through the quiet however many hours later.
