Page 109 of Ship Happens

“What did she say?”

Jacob snorts. “That I was being stupid.” He wipes at the inside corners of his eyes. “That I couldn’t let go of everything that I’d worked on for a man.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Owen says, hating himself for it.

“Then I asked her how she knew when to settle down,” Jacob continues. “She used to be a lot like me, bouncing around from place to place, taking whatever job she could just to get experience and make some kind of a living.”

Owen swallows, heart thudding in his chest.

“I think I was jealous, when I saw her home, what she was able to build. And besides, I’m not as young as I used to be. I’m no spring chicken, or whatever it is people say.”

“What are you saying, Jacob?” Owen asks him directly, needing an answer.

“When I’m done with my research, I’m going to come back,” he says. “I’m not ending my work early; I’m not coming back just for you. I think I’ve realized that I’m ready to slow down, to . . . take things easy for a while.”

“And you’d be willing to wait?” Owen asks. “For me.”

“Only if you are,” Jacob answers. “Only if it’s something you want to do too. I’ll be gone for years. I don’t know how long exactly, but it’ll be a while.”

“I’d be okay with that,” Owen says. More than okay, in fact. Owen leans over, resting his head on Jacob’s shoulder. “I am glad this week happened. Despite all of the . . .” He gestures widely. “You know.”

Jacob nods. “See, traveling isn’t so bad.”

“I still think this vindicates me,” Owen argues. “You have to admit this entire situation is wacky. We’re stuck in Alaska, Jacob.”

“At least no one was filming us from the boat,” Jacob adds, grateful.

Owen watches as he steps off the picnic table long enough to pull a strand of grass from the park lawn.

“I suppose so,” Owen says, watching Jacob’s fingers move as he shapes the grass.

“Do you think you’d be willing to come visit me? I mean, it’s a little too late to come see the Dover lab, but the one in Belgium looks nice, and I’ll have my own apartment this time.”

“I’ve never been out of the country before,” Owen says. “Wait, did we ever reach international waters?”

“I have no clue.”

Owen chuckles. “And you’re the marine biologist?”

“Would you come to see me?” Jacob asks again, ignoring Owen’s jab.

“Yeah,” Owen confirms. “I’m going to. Would you come back to SF more?”

“I want to,” Jacob says. “I’ll tell you now that it might be tough. I’m working hard hours over there.”

Owen shrugs, laying his head back on Jacob’s shoulder. “Sounds like the norm.”

“Sorry.”

“Just make it up to me,” Owen mumbles, his attention held rapt by the ring that Jacob is making out of the grass. “Why are you making that?”

“Because I want to marry you.” Jacob says the words so plainly that Owen doesn’t register them at first. “Not right now, not even soon. I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone for work.”

Owen could pass out. He nearly does.

He knew this information already. But hearing it directly from Jacob . . .

“Obviously you don’t have to say anything, maybe it’s stupid, but I thought—”