Page 35 of Journey to Love

I reach the Ivory Lounge and scan the room, my eyes quickly landing on her in the back corner near a window. Tears are streaming down her face.

I rush over to her, but then I slow my pace. I don't want to startle her. As I approach, she doesn't look at me and continues to stare out the window. Even though it's dark outside, I know she saw my reflection in the window. I slowly take the seat next to her.

She sniffles, and my heart breaks at the sound of her crying, knowing that I'm the reason for her tears. "What do you want, Jacob?" she says with a cracked voice, wiping a tear from her face. She still doesn't look at me.

"Anya, please tell me what I did wrong. I can't fix it if you don't tell me," I plead, feeling the weight of her pain.

She scoffs, "There's nothing to fix, Jacob. I've changed my mind. I can't be your girlfriend," she snaps, then takes a hit from her cigarette.

I feel like I just heard my heart shatter into a million pieces. Can that actually happen? No, that's not a thing, but it sure feels like it. We can't end this cruise like this. "Anya, talk to me, please," I plead, desperation seeping into my voice. She snaps her head toward me, and I see her face, red and puffy from crying. "We have nothing to talk about!" she sharply says as she puts out her cigarette and starts to walk away.

I grab her hand, "Anya, wait, please," but she jerks her hand away just as fast. "DON'T!" she hisses, her eyes flashing with anger. I start to walk after her, but she holds her hand out, her voice sharp and commanding, "AND DON'T FUCKING FOLLOW ME EITHER!"

She turns to walk out but is stopped by Lana, panting and out of breath.

As I watch Lana and Anya converse, a tumult of emotions churns within me. Guilt gnaws at my insides, knowing that my words have caused Anya such distress. I feel a deep ache in my chest, a sense of regret washing over me like a crashing wave. Why did I have to bring up the military? I curse myself for my thoughtlessness, for not considering how it might affect her.

Yet, amidst the guilt, there's also frustration and confusion. I don't understand why Anya reacted so strongly. Was it because of her past experiences? Or was there something else at play that I couldn't grasp? I feel a pang of helplessness, unsure of how to ease her pain or mend the rift between us.

But beneath it all, there's a glimmer of hope, a desperate longing to make things right. I can't bear the thought of ending the cruise on such a sour note, of leaving things unresolved between us. I want to fix this, to find a way to bridge the gap and salvage what remains of our connection.

As I observe Lana and Anya's interaction, my heart pounds in my chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope. Lana's composed demeanor and Anya's animated gestures create a stark contrast, leaving me on edge as I try to decipher their conversation. Each flicker of Lana's gaze toward me sends a surge of anxiety coursing through me, wondering what they're discussing and what Anya's reaction will be.

Is Lana trying to convince her to stay, or is she taking Anya's side? The uncertainty gnaws at me, amplifying my fear of the unknown. I watch intently as Anya shrugs and nods her head, a wave of relief washing over me at the sight of her tentative agreement.

As Lana and Anya approach, I steel myself for the conversation ahead, hoping desperately for a chance to make things right. The weight of my actions hangs heavy on my shoulders, but I'm determined to do whatever it takes to win back Anya's trust and salvage our connection.

As they stand before me, the weight of the unspoken hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the awkward silence that envelops us. Lana's subtle nudge prompts Anya to break the silence with a frustrated sigh, her inner turmoil palpable in the tension of her body language.

"Anya, you need to tell him!" Lana's voice cuts through the stillness, gentle yet insistent, urging Anya to confront the truth that lingers between us. Anya raises her hands in a gesture of surrender, a mix of reluctance and resolve evident in her expression.

"Okay, okay, fine! You're right, okay!" Anya's words hang in the air, a tentative step towards unveiling the secrets that have kept us apart.

"Jacob, you should sit down," Anya says, her voice carrying a solemn weight. I quickly find the nearest chair and settle into it, my heart pounding with anticipation for what she's about to reveal. Anya exhales deeply, her gaze shifting briefly to Lana, who offers a supportive nod, silently urging her to proceed. Lana then gestures towards the door, indicating her intention to give us privacy for our conversation.

Anya's solemn demeanor sends a shiver down my spine as I brace myself for the truth she's about to disclose.

Chapter Twenty

Anya

As I gather my thoughts, I realize that Jacob will be the first person in a long time to whom I'll reveal the truth about Paul. Over the past two years, I've only confided in two people: Heather and Lana. Despite my efforts, others I've tried to trust with my story dismissed it as lies or exaggerations. The betrayal by those I considered friends and family left me guarded, reluctant to share my truth until I could be certain of acceptance and understanding.

Jacob sits before me, unaware of the weight of my past, the scars I carry hidden beneath a veneer of strength. Lana was right—I overreacted. Jacob didn't deserve my knee-jerk reaction; he couldn't be held responsible for a past he knew nothing about. With a deep breath, I steel myself to lay bare my vulnerabilities to him. It's a daunting prospect, but I owe it to myself—and perhaps to him—to let him in.

"Anya," Jacob's voice breaks through the heavy silence, drawing my attention back to him. His tone is gentle, inviting me to open up. With a resigned sigh, I gather my thoughts and begin, "First and foremost, I owe you an apology for my reaction earlier. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry for pushing you away like that."

He nods, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Can I hold your hand?" he asks tentatively, his concern palpable. I can't help but smile faintly at his request, touched by his sensitivity. "Yes, I'd like that," I respond softly, intertwining my fingers with his. His touch brings a sense of comfort, easing the tension that had been building within me.

Despite my earlier behavior, Jacob's warmth envelops me, offering solace in the midst of my turmoil. It's a reminder that despite my past and my insecurities, I'm not alone in this moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, Anya. Whatever it is you have to say, I'm still here," Jacob reassures me, his words a lifeline in the midst of my emotional storm. His steadfast presence gives me the strength to proceed.

Taking a deep breath, I continue, "Two years ago, I was in a serious relationship with a man who I thought I was going to marry and raise a family with. In fact, we almost did." Jacob's hand tightens around mine, offering silent support as I delve into painful memories.

"When I met… when Paul and I met, we immediately became friends. We were part of a group, similar to what we found here on the cruise, and we did everything together," I explain, feeling the weight of those past moments pressing down on me. Jacob's attentive gaze and compassionate demeanor encourage me to press on.

“We liked each other, but he was in a relationship with someone at the time, so I never pursued anything more than friendship with him. Plus, he was 18 and I was 16 at the time, so my parents would not have approved of our relationship anyway,” I explain, feeling the weight of those unspoken feelings from the past.

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