It’s gone. The adhesive must have given out in the freezing water, the glue dissolving, the carefully applied pieces washing away.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the sounds of water and wind.
“We need to get out of this water,” Jasper exclaims, and his voice is strange now. Flat. Emotionless. Like he has shut down completely. “Before we both freeze to death.”
We start swimming back to the boat without another word, and the silence is somehow worse than anything he could say. Worse than yelling or accusations or anger.
The swim back feels eternal even though the boat is close. My arms are like lead. My legs barely want to kick. The cold has seeped so deep into my bones that I’m not sure I’ll ever be warm again.
Jasper reaches the boat first and hauls himself up with upper-body strength that would be impressive if I weren’t currently dying of hypothermia and exposure. He reaches down, offering his hand.
I take it, and he pulls me up onto the deck. His grip is firm but impersonal now. Like I’m a stranger he’s helping, not someone he kissed against her apartment door just days ago.
I scramble onto the bench, collapsing onto the wet metal, my whole body shaking so violently I can barely sit upright.
Jasper deliberately sits on one of the other benches opposite mine. Not close. Not offering comfort. Leaving an empty bench between us like a chasm.
He grabs my discarded Wilde Charters jacket from where I dropped it and tosses it at me without ceremony. “Put it on.”
I do, my hands shaking so badly I can barely grip the fabric. He puts his own jacket back on, then grabs several blankets from one of the containers on the boat and rapidly wraps two around me, and the rest around himself. Then we sit there on opposite benches, shivering.
He’s staring at me, taking in my face without the disguise for the first time. Seeing me as I actually am.
I must look like a disaster. Wet hair plastered to my head. Face red from the cold. Lips probably blue. Eyes undoubtedly red-rimmed from tears mixing with seawater.
“Jasper,” I start, my voice breaking on his name. The word comes out in Anita’s voice, not Ash’s, and that just makes everything more real. “There’s so much I need to explain. So much I need to tell you.”
“You fucking think so?”
The words are sharp. Cutting. Each one a knife.
And just like that, every regret I’ve ever felt in my entire life doesn’t come close to this very moment. Every mistake, every wrong choice, every ounce of shame pales in comparison.
This is the biggest mistake of my life, and now I have to face it. Have to own it. No more lies.
“Can you maybe not tell the other guys right away?” I ask, even though I know I don’t deserve that consideration. Even though I have no right to ask for anything. “Let me do it? Please? Let me be the one to tell them when I have a moment to let this sink in.”
His eyes are cold now. Distant in a way they’ve never been before, not even when we first met. “What’s going on, Anita? You’ve been faking being Ash this whole fucking time? Why? What possible reason could you have?”
I blink hard, trying to hold back tears, knowing I did this to myself. “I run a radio show,” I say, the words tumbling out fast and desperate. “It’s anonymous. For Omegas. It’s calledTheHeat Line. I give advice, discuss issues that affect us, create a space for conversations we’re not supposed to have. Topics that are considered too controversial or too political or too angry.”
He’s listening, his face completely unreadable now.
“I got an email a few weeks ago. Anonymous tip from someone who wouldn’t give their name. They said that Wilde Charters was pushing out Omegas. Firing them unfairly or creating hostile work environments to make them quit on their own. Making it impossible for them to stay.” I’m talking faster now, my words running together. “And I decided to investigate. Came here undercover as Ash to see if it was true. To gather evidence. To expose it if discrimination was happening.” I’m crying now, tears mixing with the seawater still dripping from my hair. “I wanted to protect people. That’s what I do. That’s what my show is for. To stand up for Omegas who can’t stand up for themselves.”
I take a shaking breath. “But then I met you. All of you. And you weren’t what I expected. You weren’t cold or cruel or dismissive. You were kind and respectful and treated me better than most people in my life have. You made me laugh. Made me feel safe. Made me feel wanted.” My voice breaks completely. “And then today, seeing Reed, realizing who the real enemy is, what real hatred looks like… I knew I’d wasted my time investigating the wrong people. I was going to come clean and tell you everything, but then the boat broke down and…”
“You could have just been upfront,” Jasper says, and his voice is tight. “Could have knocked on our door and asked us about the Omegas who left. We would have told you the truth.”
“What’s that?” I whisper.
“The three Omegas we let go.” His jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscle jumping. “They were stealing from us. Working together. They came in for summer seasons, knew each other, coordinated the whole thing. Skimmed money from cashtransactions, pocketed tips that were supposed to go to the crew, and falsified expense reports.”
I stare at him, my whole world tilting.
“We caught them,” he continues, each word precise and controlled. “Had proof. Receipts that didn’t match deposits. Security footage of one of them taking cash from the register after hours. A paper trail a mile long. We confronted them, and you know what they did?”
I shake my head mutely.
