Page 45 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
Millie’s fingers brush against mine on the railing. “Does she? Really?”
I pull my hand away, pretending to adjust my watch. “We should head back. Early start tomorrow.”
“Right.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Mom signed us up for that snorkeling excursion. The two of us. She’s staying behind, says she gets seasick on small boats.”
Of course she is. Just like my mother booked the staterooms with me sharing with Millie and Rhonda instead of getting my own room like she’d promised. Like I’d promised Caitlin.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Millie had said this morning when I complained about the sleeping arrangements, her hand lingering on my arm.
I hadn’t responded, but my stomach had churned with unease. That phrase, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, it felt like crossing a line.
“Adam?” Millie’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired,” I say, already turning back toward our cabin. “Let’s go.”
When we return, Rhonda is still asleep, her quiet snores providing background noise as I lie awake, staring at my phone and willing Caitlin to respond.
* * *
Morning brings no relief. My mother is in full form at breakfast, inspecting the fruit platter with pursed lips.
“The pineapple isn’t ripe,” she announces to our table. “And these strawberries are practically frozen.”
“It’s a breakfast buffet for two thousand people, Paula,” my father says, his patience visibly fraying. “Not your personal kitchen.”
“I’m just saying, for what this cruise cost—”
“It was your idea,” Dad interrupts, stabbing his fork into his omelet with unnecessary force.
Mom gives him a wounded look. “I’m only trying to make sure we get our money’s worth.”
“Then maybe try enjoying yourself instead of griping,” he mutters, but she’s already moved on to examining the platter of bacon with suspicious eyes.
Across the table, Lauren gives me a sympathetic look while Jake wisely keeps his attention on his plate. Hailey, seated beside Millie, is busy planning their spa day, heads bent together over the ship’s activity schedule.
I check my phone again. Nothing from Caitlin. The knot in my stomach tightens.
“You keep checking that thing like it’s going to explode,” Mom snaps, eyeing my phone with disapproval. “I’m sure your precious Caitlin is fine. We’re here to spend time together, not stare at screens.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, slipping it back into my pocket. “Just checking work emails.”
It’s a lie she accepts with a nod, satisfied that Kelley Property Management occupies my thoughts rather than my fiancée. The truth is, I haven’t thought about work once since we boarded. All I can think about is the look on Caitlin’s face when I left — resigned, distant, like she was already gone.
“Adam,” Millie says, leaning toward me from her seat. Her knee brushes mine under the table. “I’m really looking forward to our snorkeling trip. It’ll be just you and me, like old times.”
I shift my leg away. “Great.”
“Remember when we went swimming at Lake McConaughy? Right after I finished chemo?” Her voice takes on that wistful quality that always makes guilt wrap around my ribs like a vise. “You said the water would make me feel weightless when everything else felt so heavy.”
“I remember,” I say, because of course I do. Millie at seventeen, thin and pale, her hair just starting to grow back inwispy patches. The way she’d clung to me in the water, trusting me completely to keep her afloat.
“I’ve always remembered that,” she says softly, her hand finding mine under the table.
I extract it as gently as possible, reaching for my water glass. “Should be fun today.”
Mom watches this exchange with barely disguised approval, while Dad focuses intently on his coffee. He’s never been as invested in the Millie situation as Mom, but he’s never stood against it either.
After breakfast, I escape to the highest deck, find a quiet corner, and try Caitlin again. Straight to voicemail. I text: “Please call me. I need to know you’re okay.” The message shows as delivered but not read.
