Page 111 of Falling Overboard

My heart beat like a drum in my chest and there was a sick feeling at the back of my throat. She had every right to be furious with me. This was now the second time I had kept something serious from her.

The first was telling the two other stews that Lucky and I were dating. That had been a harmless lie to keep them away from me. And then I’d completely forgotten that I’d even done it until she had confronted me about it.

She had quickly forgiven me.

Luck might not be on my side this time. I had to swallow down the dread I was feeling.

“Can you put on a shirt?” she asked angrily.

“Yeah.” I grabbed one from the closet and slid it over my head. I had an impulse to tease her but I knew now wasn’t the time.

Once I was dressed she said, “You know, when you told me you had a hard time with names, I didn’t realize you meant your own.”

“I can explain!”

“I hope so.”

She sat on her bunk and I crawled in after her, making sure to keep my distance. I didn’t deserve to touch her right now. This had been a stupid plan from the beginning and she would be well within her rights to tell me to get out of her bed and out of her life.

“Are you even qualified to be on this boat?” she asked.

“I have my STCW and ENG1 certifications.”

That seemed to mollify her slightly. “You kissed me under false pretenses.”

“What?”

“You’re not who you said you were.”

“Lucky, just because I used a different last name doesn’t change who I am. I kissed you under real pretenses. Because I wanted to.”

She closed her eyes against my confession and then whispered, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

The pain in her voice broke my heart. “Yes! I tried a couple of times but we kept getting interrupted or I got distracted. You know how easily I get distracted. Especially by you.” I pulled in a deep breath. “And honestly, it was a little harder after your ‘I hate rich people’ speech.”

That had really thrown a wrench in the works.

Again, I felt her soften slightly. “You still lied to me.”

“Can we say ‘playfully omitted’?” I asked and then let the smile drop off my face when I saw her expression. “I’m sorry. When things are tough I joke.”

“I noticed.”

I ran my fingers through my hair. I kept messing this up. What was wrong with me? I needed to tell her everything, why this had happened.“I told you before that I’m a constant disappointment to my parents. Dropping out of law school, partying way too hard, and generally not dealing well with losing Harper.”

She nodded.

“My dad in particular took it as some kind of personal affront. He’s a lawyer. There is a law firm that my family owns. My father, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, et cetera, all worked at it. There was a tremendous amount of pressure on me to join the family business. And I probably would have.”

“But then you left school.”

“And my dad’s never let me forget it. I got better, went into therapy, but he still expected me to go back, even when I told him I wouldn’t. Then, when I decided I wanted to open up a residential treatment center, I went to him and my mom and asked them to invest. My dad said no, that I never finish what I start.”

A sharp wave of pain at how much I felt like a failure, like I was never good enough and never would be, smacked into me.

“They both think I’m lazy and that I’m not willing to work hard. So this was their deal. I come and work on the ship, where no special favors would be given to me because of who I am, and prove that I could do it. Day in and day out, that I won’t give up. If after six months I’m still here and doing well, then they said they would invest.”

“You don’t need your parents’ money. You could go to a bank or find someone else to invest in you. You don’t need their permission. You’re an adult.”

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