Nearing the marina, I slow down, cautious of being seen. But as I approach, butterflies take flight in my stomach. There, sitting on the deck of her houseboat is Rose. She’s working on a drawing just as I’d imagined, a glass of wine at her side, the soft glow of the afternoon sun illuminating her features. I stop, mesmerized by the sight of her.
Suddenly, Rose’s phone rings. I can’t hear the other person, but Rose’s voice carries clearly over the water.
“Heather! Hi!” Rose’s face lights up as she greets her friend. “Oh my gosh, you won’t believe how much fun I’m having!”
Rose’s laughter rings out, light and carefree. “I miss you too, and Purl, of course. But don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough.”
I know I should move on and give her privacy, but I linger, captivated by the animation in Rose’s face as she chats with her friend.
“Oh, Heather, it’s been incredible,” Rose continues, her voice brimming with excitement. “Yesterday was perfect – I had the most amazing beach day.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, I can hear the smile in her voice. “Yes, Levi was there.”
My pulse thumps at the mention of our day together, and I swim closer, eager to hear more.
“Yeah, Levi and I… we had a moment,” Rose says, her voice softening, becoming warm and intimate. I can hear the smile in her words. “No, I’m not giving you details! Don’t be nosy!”
I float closer until I’m practically under the houseboat’s stern, careful to stay hidden beneath the water’s surface. Rose laughs at something her friend says, and the sound makes my hearts swell.
“Seriously, you’re terrible!” Rose giggles, and I can imagine the blush spreading across her cheeks. “But… okay, fine. It was… magical. That’s all I’m saying!”
I feel a rush of warmth at her words, remembering our time together on the beach and after. Her description of it as ‘magical’ thrills me.
“He’s… he’s extraordinary. I’ve never met anyone quite like him. It’s not just that he’s handsome – though he certainly is,” she says with a slight giggle. “But he’s also incredibly kind and thoughtful. He seemed reserved at first, but now that I’ve gotten to know him… He always seems to know just what to say or do to make me feel comfortable. And once you get to know him, he’s really fun, too – we laugh so much together. But what really gets me is the way he looks at me. It’s like… I don’t know, like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He makes me feel seen in a way I’ve never experienced before.”
I feel a rush of warmth at her words, flattered and touched.
“Part of me doesn’t want to leave, you know? But… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Suddenly, Rose straightens in her chair, her eyes scanning the water. For a heart-stopping moment, I think she’s spotted me, but that’s impossible. I’m well hidden beneath the dark surface.
“Heather, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon, okay?” Rose ends the call abruptly, standing up and slowly approaching the edge of the houseboat deck.
I remain perfectly still, my hearts pounding. She cannot see me, but her gaze seems to be fixed precisely where I am submerged. The intensity in her eyes makes me wonder if she somehow, impossibly, senses my presence.
Rose stands at the edge of the dock, her gaze penetrating the dark waters with an intensity that makes my hearts pound. I am caught in a fierce internal struggle, torn between the overwhelming urge to surface and reveal myself, and the deeply ingrained instinct to remain hidden. The reminder that she’s leaving soon crashes over me like a cold wave, tempering mydesire to expose my secret. It would be unwise, I tell myself, no matter how tempting the idea. Unable to bear the weight of her searching eyes, I slowly sink deeper into the murky depths. My tentacles curl protectively around me, their familiarity a comfort as I settle onto the silt-covered marina floor. Nestled in this hidden sanctuary, I watch Rose’s silhouette ripple above me, my eyes never leaving her. I wait, barely daring to move, wondering what she’ll do next and fighting the hope that she might somehow sense my presence.
CHAPTER 17
Rose
My eyes drift towards Levi’s still-empty houseboat for the hundredth time today. The marina bustles with afternoon activity – sailboats gliding by, seagulls wheeling overhead, and the distant chatter of people enjoying another day of the perfect weather. Yet, amidst all this life and movement, I find myself distracted.
“I’m telling you, Heather, it’s been amazing.He’sbeen amazing,” I say, warmth coloring my voice despite the worry starting to gnaw at my edges. I’ve been out here for hours, sketchbook open but mostly untouched, my eyes drawn again and again to the harbor entrance. The fishing boats should have returned by now, and each passing minute without seeing Levi’s vessel makes my stomach twist a little tighter. Not that I’m about to admit that to Heather – she’s already having far too much fun with this situation as it is.
“Oh my god, listen to you! Has Prince Charming swept you right off your feet and into his fishing boat?” Heather’s laugh crackles through the phone’s speaker. “Should I be planningmy maid of honor speech for the seaside wedding? Mwarriage… mwarriage is whot bwrings us hwere togeva today.”
I laugh, shaking my head even though she can’t see me. “It’s not like that. We’re just… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
As I speak, a familiar sensation washes over me. It’s hard to describe – like a prickling at the back of my neck, a sudden awareness that I’m not alone. My heart races as I remember the feeling of something brushing against my foot in the water the other night. My eyes drift to the small pearl sitting on my kitchen counter, its surface an impossibly deep blue that shifts and shimmers with every movement. I’d found it this morning when I stepped out onto the deck, nestled in a pristine oyster shell left by my door.
I close my eyes momentarily, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. It’s just my imagination running wild after everything that’s happened. The creak of the houseboat, the splash of waves against the hull, the whisper of wind – they’re all normal harbor sounds. And yet… that crawling sensation remains.
I shake my head, dismissing the sensation, but then stop myself. Krakens are supposed to be myths and legends. They shouldn’t exist in real life. And yet… Iknowwhat I saw, what I felt. The memory is vivid and undeniable. The gentle strength of those massive tentacles lifting me, saving me from drowning – it was not a hallucination born from a bump on the head. The touch of its tentacle and the deliberate care in its actions were all too real. And now, with this perfect pearl glowing with the colors of the deepest ocean sitting in my kitchen, I’m certain – a kraken, or something very much like one, exists here in Lublin Harbor. And it saved my life.
“Rose? You still there?” Heather’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Yeah, sorry,” I reply, still scanning the dark, calm water. “I just thought I… never mind. Heather, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
I end the call and stand up, drawn to the edge of the deck. The water laps gently against the houseboat, reflecting the sun’s rays. I see nothing unusual, and yet… I can’t shake the feeling that something is watching me. It doesn’t feel threatening. If anything, it feels… familiar.
