Ear-piercing silence lingered inside the room. The stillness of everything resonated like trumpets inside my head. In those very long, tedious minutes, I could barely breathe.

"Avery?" Audrey touched my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

An obsolete, rusty piece of barbwire metal caused friction against my throat. Talking was impossible. I was on the verge of crying but no tears came out.

I was angry at her.

Shrugging her hand away, I gazed at Eric. "What did you say?" The raw expression on my face left him in a stutter.

Eric put his hands into his pockets like he always did every time he was nervous. Clearing his throat, he faced down. "You—you heard what I said."

He looked at me. "Trevmore's gone," he said in a rather adamant tone. Fear was transparent in his eyes. Eric never knew how to lie, especially to me. But this time, I wished he were.

I wiped away the tears clouding on the corners of my eyes before they fell. "This is insane," I said. Anger caught up to me. I acted impulsively like I always did. What I had to do was to get off this yacht and talk to Nathan. How could he be dead? He just left me days ago.

Walking towards my bed, I unzipped my bag wide open and shoved my clothes inside hastily; whether it was folded neatly or placed in order was none of my concern.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked empathetically.

Ignoring him completely, my focus was only on filling up the whole bag. The clutter on the television desk caught my eye; so I grabbed my makeup and my journal notebook (since I never leave without it) from there and put it inside. My eyes swarmed for more of my things that could be anywhere.

"Avery, what do you think you're doing?" Audrey said as she took my journal from the bag; trying to steal my attention.

"Give me that!" I groaned. "I'm getting off this damn yacht and I'm gonna talk to Nathan," I said decisively while looking at my almost full bag. Even if I didn't bat an eye on them, their blank stares wore me down swiftly; I didn't have to look in their eyes to know that they're thinking badly of me.

Like I was absurd or something. Like I was desperate for attention.

"And how do you think you're gonna do that? We're in the middle of an ocean," Eric said.

He scoffed when I placed the bag around my arm. "Maybe I'll jump off the yacht and wait for Nathan to save me," I replied. "You said he's dead, right? Well, maybe I should be too. That way it's a win-win." I walked to the door with my head held high.

Before I touched the doorknob, someone from the outside twisted it first. Dark almond eyes peeked in the tiny opening of the door. It was Dr. Martin, half-naked and wet. "Uh, is Audrey here? She was supposed to meet me an hour ago," he said.

"Oh shit!" Audrey ran to the door and apologized to him in a sweet tone. She stepped outside and gave me a look, somehow telling me not to go anywhere. "I'll be back," she mouthed.

Crap. "What do you wanna know? I'll tell you everything." Eric asked, sitting down on a stool near the wall. I turned back to face him, thought about whether or not talking to him was the best idea. Then I realized I didn't have much of a choice anyway.

"Everything," I answered. "From the very start."

Eric nodded and suggested me to take a seat. So I did. From the other corner of the room, I put my bag on the bed beside me. He always knew how to reel me in. "So?"

"When you left, the first thing that came to my mind was you and Nathan together," he said. "On the night of the debutante ball, right? You left me on the dance floor?"

"We were about to, but we didn't."

"How come?"

"I changed my mind."

Eric's face lighted up with surprise. I didn't know what I said but the change of his mood was evident in the lines of his face slowly disappearing. A tiny grin appeared that lasted for a second.

He noticed my glare so he quickly cleared his throat and continued his storytelling. "Anyway, the day after the ball, I was reprimanded by my mother because I wasn't able to propose to you on the night she expected." His voice started to change. "That's when I knew I valued my mother's approval too much that I asked for your hand in marriage while knowing perfectly well that you were never saying yes."

"At least you didn't get to ask me," I said.

"I was never gonna," he confessed. "I knew Nathan was already waiting outside the ballroom. Max told me."

"What are the odds of you leaving me hanging that night," Eric scoffed, "Without a doubt, a hundred. I couldn't do that to myself."

I remained silent. A part of me wanted to interrogate every piece of information he had. But then I remembered most of the trouble he got himself into for his whole life revolved around me. I was the reason Eric was like this.

"Anyway, after you and him spent the night together, I — I thought—"

"You thought what?"

"I thought I lost," Eric admitted, his eyes watering. "But then Nathan came to me in the morning and asked if you were with me." Eric let out a single chuckle, recalling that specific day. "Did you — did you really leave him in bed and left?"

I nodded. "One of my biggest regrets." 

He stood up and went to me. "By the time we learned that you ran away and told your parents you wanted to be left alone for some time, he said he would do whatever it took to find you."

I stepped back and forth, unable to compose myself. Cold sweat dripped around my ears. I felt no warmth on my chapped lips. "But—but he said you went to talk to him the day before our wedding?"

Eric's face showed total shock on what I discovered. He did not believe me. "How on earth do you know that?"

"He told me. On the beach of San Diego, where we spent the night together on the sand, under the stars."

"I did go to him. I visited his grave," he said.

"So—what you're telling me is — all this time since I came back home, Nathan was not here?" I asked, raising my voice at him. I let out a faint chuckle. "So, you're telling me, I have been seeing, talking, making out with a ghost all this time?" I continued to laugh, tears running down from my eyes. "So all this time, I had sex with a ghost?"

"Bullshit," I gasped. "What —what about when you invited Nathan to our home and made a scene? Did you remember that? He was there." 

"I remember it very well," he replied. "I was a jerk and you slapped me. It wasn't much of a scene if you ask me." 

"Then how about when you spied on us behind the trash? The day when you told me about our so-called arrangement?" I asked eagerly.

Eric sighed. "Avery, I saw you outside Rutt Minnie's crying. I thought I might cheer you up by surprising you. It wasn't spying." His face was very concerned. He probably thought I was going crazy.

"B—but... that's impossible—"

The door opened. My attention was diverted. Water dripped all over the door area. Wearing a two-piece hot fuchsia bikini, Audrey came in. "Oh," she gasped, grabbing a towel hanging on the back of the chair behind the door and wrapped it around her body, "where are my manners?"

"Audrey, please tell me Eric's lying, please." I walked up to her. "Nathan couldn't be dead, right? What about our road trip with the three of us?"

I held her hand and never let go, like a baby asking for candy from his mother in a supermarket. Gazing into her eyes, I searched for hope. "Avery, what road trip? It was only the two of us," she corrected, holding the towel so it wouldn't fall. "You called me up and said you wanted to spend time with me?"

"Then how about when we met at the mall? We were eating at some restaurant and he came by to sit beside you?" I was getting more desperate. Why didn't anyone believe me? 

"Again, we were alone. But I do remember that guy who sat beside me."

A glimmer of hope ignited from my chest. "Really? You do?"

"Yeah, who would forget Carlos? He was hot," she said.

"His name wasn't Carlos! It was Nathan! Nathan!" I spat. Out of frustration, I crouched on the ground, fingers embedded in my hair. Creases on my forehead protruded. "Both of you — stop lying to me! I can't stand this anymore."

"Avery, I don't know who Nathan is. I'm sorry," she said, leaning on the door.

As my head rested on my arms, I faced Eric from the ground. "How did he die?" A tear fell from my eye.

"All I've got is what your parents' private investigator has gathered," he told me, "Nathan drowned in the beach you said you both spent the night together — San Diego."

I cried and cried until they ought to give some space. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. Who could I have been talking to all along? If he were dead, why would I still see him like he was alive?

Since I came back, it was Nathan who reminded me how sweet love could be. How nice it would be to feel something real, something raw — in a world full of false pretenses that dressed up as flying ecstacies.

Nathan, my love, why did you leave me?