Page 55 of Festive Fugitive
While the ship is primarily transporting cargo, we’re not the only passengers. I’ve already spotted a couple with Go-Pros documenting it as an“adventure”, and they aren’t alone. Due to there being a very limited amount ofcabins, most of the passengers will be setting up tents or sleeping on yoga mats in lounge areas, but my man can afford paying the premium for privacy. Still, as we walk along the railing and watch the massive port that could have been its own city, I’m eager to enjoy the fresh air for as long as possible, because I doubt we’ll be socializing much while onboard.
I’ve got my cloth mask on, which is nice, because it keeps my face warm in the chilly wind. Both Cesar and I lean over the railing to watch the land disappear from a secluded spot so no one bothers us. I was so happy to help him with the tattoo issue. It felt like a special moment between us, like I was the only one who could save him from the trauma inflicted by Sullivan’s brainwashing.
But now he’s silent and distant again. Which makes me babble out of nerves.
“Did you visit the house we’re going to often? Did you furnish it yourself? Or is it a bare bones situation?”
Cesar, who’s been watching the lights on the shore, glances my way and clears his throat. “I’ve been there once. I used to rent it out to people, so it’s furnished, but… well, redecoration is always a possibility,” he says and offers me a flat smile. “We’re off.”
“Are you excited to retire? Or afraid you won’t know what to do with your time?” I try and poke his hand with a gloved finger. The wind is so intense it would be hard to talk if we didn’t stand so close. He swallows, and every second of silence shifts me closer to the edge of panic, because what is happening right now? Is he worried that this whole thing was a mistake? That I am a wedge in his plans for a peaceful life on his own?
Have I been too much again?
He clears his throat and speaks. “It still doesn’t feel real. I wanted this for so long, I was angry when Sullivandelayed it, but I think deep down I didn’t believe it could happen.”
A sudden gust of wind swipes up my forehead and snatches my hat. We both bend over the railing to grab it, but it’s too late. It’s gone in the waves in seconds. I groan, because now my hair flaps about everywhere. We’ll probably soon go to our cabin, but I don’t want to leave this conversation unfinished.
“But you’re happy now, right? That we’re going there? Or are you questioning the location itself?”
The gasp he makes has my feet fusing with the steel floor, so I steady myself, pinning my gaze to his mouth. The cold wind rustles his dark hair in every direction as he grabs both my hands and leans his back against the taffrail. The stormy water, and the city cease to exist, because all I can see is him.
“We need to talk.”
My stomach clenches, and I wonder if I should be jumping into the waves myself under the pretense of finding my hat. Our bubble is about to burst, and I don’t want it to. Can I blame tears forming over my eyes on the wind?
“What did I do?”
Cesar’s mouth goes slack. “What?”
I clench my hands on the railing. I can hardly breathe, but I’ll get through this. I’m resilient, even if impulsive. “What do you want to talk about? I’m guessing I did something to… frustrate you?”
He licks his lips and squeezes my hands with more force. The cranes passing behind him are like monsters that might snatch my happiness away at any moment, but for now he’s still here, touching me. “No, of course not! You’re… you’re the most incredible person I know,” he shouts when the wind blows at us from the side, straight into our ears.
Cesar rolls his eyes and pulls me away from the gunwale, into a small, roofed space which, judging by the amount of cigarette butts littering the floor and the metal ashtrays, is frequented by smokers. Only one of its walls is open, and it faces another structure on the top deck.
“So what is it that you’d like to talk about? Is there a secret husband stashed away in that house?” I laugh nervously, but at this point, I’m ready for anything.
I have gotten way too invested in a new relationship, like I always do, and here comes the inevitable bucket of cold water. Too bad this time the disappointment will hurt more than all the previous times combined.
Still, I am an adult. I can take it.
Cesar swallows and once again squeezes my hands. “I’m used to thinking mostly about myself, but I don’t want this to be just about what I want. I don’t want you to feel trapped just because I’m helping you.”
“Trapped…” I repeat, confused, wondering if he’s trying to let me down gently. It’s all very confusing, because just last night he told me how amazing I am, how I’mhis.
He moves his hands up my arms and settles them on my shoulders. “I will help you. I will make sure you’re safe, but you don’t owe me anything. You are free to leave me, if you wish. I would still always take care of you,” he says, ever quieter, until his voice disappears in the roar of the ocean.
I watch him, I listen, I understand the words he’s saying, but they make no sense.
“Idoowe you everything. Why would I want to leave?”
One of my exes did the whole ‘oh, I’m not good enough for you’ spiel just because he actually wanted to break up,but it doesn’t feel like this with Cesar. There’s something more here, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.
Cesar swallows, his dark eye so intense it’s like there’s a storm brewing inside him. “I never want you to feel obligated to me the way I was to Sullivan. I’d kill a hundred more men just to be with you, and the beastly part of me wishes to keep you in my basement, but I…” his voice breaks a little, “I don’t ever want you to feel like I did. Like I couldn’t get out. You need to know you’re free to leave, and I would help you do that. I’d establish you in some country far away—”
Suddenly I understand everything he’s trying to say. All the tension inside me dissolves, and I close the distance between us to hug him.
“You love me.”
