Part Fifteen

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The cruise ship looms over the horizon, its sleek, white hull slicing through the golden afternoon light.

Sunbeams scatter across its surface, each gleam a promise of indulgence and discovery. The distant hum of engines mingles with the murmur of waves, an unspoken invitation to adventure.

The gangway sways faintly beneath our feet as we step aboard, the air thick with the scent of salt and the faint tang of polished steel.

Drew's hand tightens around mine-a silent reassurance-but the unease clings to me, stubborn as the sea breeze brushing my skin. I glance at him, his easy smile steady, while mine feels brittle, an illusion I hope he doesn't notice.

Inside, the ship unfolds like a labyrinth of elegance. Polished marble floors catch the soft gleam of chandeliers above, their crystal droplets scattering light in delicate arcs.

Conversations hum from nearby lounges, mixing with the faint clink of glasses, the life of the ship already in motion. A crew member appears, her steps brisk yet graceful, uniform pressed to perfection.

"Welcome aboard the Horizon," she says, her smile as bright as the ship's veneer. She hands us our keys with a practiced ease before disappearing into the bustling corridor, her cheery presence as fleeting as a seabird's cry.

Drew pushes open the door to our cabin, and the world beyond seems to fall away. Soft, muted tones cloak the room, inviting a sense of calm.

Through the glass doors of the balcony, the ocean stretches endlessly, its surface rippling with molten silver under the fading sunlight. For a moment, I can't tell if it's the sea or the stillness in Drew's expression that anchors me most.

The cabin's balcony opens onto an endless stretch of shimmering blue, the horizon distant and unyielding. The sheer vastness of it presses against me, heavy and suffocating, despite its beauty.

Drew leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, surveying the space with a relaxed grin.

"Not bad," he says, nodding approvingly. His gaze lingers on the balcony. "Feels... private. Perfect for us."

The way he says it, casual yet weighted, sends an involuntary chill down my spine. I press my hand against the cool glass of the balcony door, trying to ground myself.

"Jake's cabin is just down the hall," Drew adds, his tone still easy. "Let's explore before dinner. There's supposed to be a rooftop bar."

I hesitate. My mind feels cluttered, every thought a knot I can't untangle. But Drew is already grabbing his jacket, his eagerness leaving little room for refusal.

"Sure," I manage to say, hoping the ship's grandeur might distract me from the storm brewing inside.

The upper decks hum with energy. Sunlight glints off the pool's surface as people lounge on deck chairs, laughter mingling with the faint splash of water. The spa exudes a serene glow, its frosted windows concealing indulgences within.

Drew moves confidently through the crowd, exchanging nods and waves with familiar faces-faces that meet mine with a flicker of curiosity, then shift back to him with knowing smiles.

"You're popular," I say, attempting to lighten the mood.

He shrugs, his grin widening. "What can I say? People remember me."

The words hang in the air, and I can't help but wonder what exactly they remember.

Back in the cabin, the knock at the door startles me. Jake stands on the other side, his hands shoved into his pockets, his posture hesitant.

"Hey," he says, his voice low. "Is Drew here?"

I shake my head, stepping aside to let him in. "He went to sort out dinner plans. What's up?"

Jake steps in cautiously, his gaze darting around the room before settling on me. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, as though deciding whether to speak at all.

"Actually... I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

The unease in his voice makes me pause. "Okay," I say slowly, crossing my arms. "What is it?"

Jake takes a breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "I've been trying to figure out how to say this," he starts, his words hesitant but heavy. "I don't think you should be with Drew."

The bluntness of his statement stuns me. "What?" I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.

"He's not good for you," Jake says firmly, his eyes meeting mine. "You're too-"

"Too what?" I cut him off, irritation flaring. "Too kind? Too innocent? God, Jake, you sound like my dad."

He flinches at my tone but doesn't back down. "You don't see it, but Drew... He's not who you think he is. He's selfish. He'll hurt you."

"Or maybe," I counter, stepping closer, "you just don't want anyone else to have me."

Jake's face hardens, his jaw tightening. "That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about, Jake? Because all I'm hearing is how wrong I am for Drew."

"It's not you," he says, his voice softening. "It's him. You deserve someone who cares about you, not someone who sees you as... convenient."

The words hit like a slap, and I stumble back a step. "Convenient?" I echo, disbelief giving way to anger. "How dare you?"

Jake presses his lips together, his frustration evident. "What about the kiss?" he asks suddenly, the question slipping out like a secret he's kept too long.

My stomach drops. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, the words tasting bitter.

"Was it?" he asks, stepping closer. "Because it didn't feel like a mistake to me."

"Jake-"

"And the poem," he interrupts, his voice quieter now. "Did you mean what you wrote?"

The memory of it-the words I'd never meant for him to see-rises unbidden. I avert my eyes. "It was a long time ago," I murmur. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," he says, the raw honesty in his voice making it hard to breathe.

The door creaks open, and Drew steps in, his smile freezing when he sees us. The silence that follows is suffocating.

"What's going on?" Drew asks, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

"Nothing," I say quickly, stepping away from Jake.

Drew's gaze moves between us, narrowing. "Doesn't look like nothing."

Jake squares his shoulders. "We were just talking," he says, his voice steady. "About old times."

"Old times," Drew repeats, his tone darkening. "And what about now? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're holding hands with my boyfriend in our cabin."

Jake's jaw tightens. "I'm not going to apologize for being honest with him."

Drew takes a step forward, his smile gone. "Honest? Is that what you call this?" He turns to me, his voice softer but no less pointed. "What's he talking about?"

I shake my head, feeling trapped. "It's not what you think, Drew."

"Then explain," he says, crossing his arms.

Jake sighs, his frustration spilling over. "I care about him. That's all this is."

"Care?" Drew's voice sharpens, his gaze cutting to Jake. "Don't pretend this is noble. You're just mad he picked me."

"That's enough!" I snap, my voice louder than I expect. Both of them turn to me, their tension momentarily broken by surprise. "This isn't about either of you. Stop making it about yourselves."

The silence that follows is deafening. Jake exhales slowly, his expression softening into something closer to regret. "I'll go," he says finally, brushing past Drew toward the door.

As it clicks shut behind him, Drew turns to me, his voice low and strained. "What am I supposed to think, seeing him here? Hearing what I just heard?"

I meet his eyes, my throat tight. "I don't know," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "I don't know what to say to either of you."

Drew runs a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Figure it out," he says, his voice raw. "Because I'm not going to wait around while you make up your mind."

When the door closes again, I sink onto the bed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Outside, the horizon blurs into the fading light, as vast and uncertain as the path ahead.

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