Page 92 of If I Go Down with This Ship

And now I am.If I looked up his name, if I looked up the ship he sailed on, would it say he and his crew died trying to escape Nassau?Would it say anything at all?

“Where’s the jacket, Louise?”I yell.I see the moment herheart breaks for me.Maybe I should apologize, but I need that coat more.

“Laszlo, what happened to you?”She takes a hesitant step forward.Her hand is outstretched as though to hug me, but I yank away.

Something rips, and when I peer down, red is blossoming over the thin fabric.It soaks through my hospital gown and between my fingers as I press a hand to it.Louise slams a button on the wall; machines beep wildly.Someone runs into the room, asking something in a controlled, calm voice, but my head is spinning, and my vision is blurring.

And the last thing I see is Louise’s face as she crouches over me.

I heal, though slowly at first.There’s a disconnect between my physical body and my mind.Because I’m missing something.There is something missing every time I wake.There is something missing every time I sleep.There is always something missing, and I realize it’s not a something, but asomeone.

I miss him.

Between the long days at sea and the strange lapse of time between our worlds, I don’t know precisely how long I was with him, how long I was aboard that ship, but it felt like months, like an entire lifetime in his arms, and I don’t know how to cope with this world, with this life I’ve been thrust back into.

And Louise is trying to help, but there is only so much she can do.

“I can open the door myself,” I grunt as Louise slides her keys into my door.

She raises a brow as I shuffle past.“You lost your keys, remember?”

I grunt again.They’re somewhere at the bottom of the ocean where I dropped them off the side ofShe Deceitful.I wonder if some scuba diver will find them, buried in the sand.Will they see my Edinburgh Castle key chain Louise bought for me and wonder how that came to age as if it has been at the bottom of the sea for three hundred years?

Shaking my head, I move past her into the flat.Louise brought me fresh clothes and pajamas while I was recovering, so the rest of my things from the hospital are in a tote bag.I set the bag on my kitchen table and look out over my flat, even as my hands itch to take out the only thing I have left of him.

But I need to convince Louise that I’m okay, that I am past everything that has happened, even if I’m not.

It feels like an entire life has come and gone since I last stepped foot in here, but on this side of time, it’s only been six days.A day and a half missing, the rest in the hospital.I still find it difficult to wrap my head around the time, around the life I lived in so briefly.It’s almost as though it didn’t even happen.

But I have the healing wounds and the coat to prove it.

Sir comes prancing down the hallway toward us, the bell around his neck jingling with each step.He chirps as he rubs against Louise’s legs, looking for attention.Louise stoops down to pet him, watching me warily as I unpack my things.The boots, scuffed and beaten from weeks at sea, the pants, now threadbare and ragged.They’re crusted with salt, stiff and crinkling as I set them aside.The shirt… the shirt is a whole different story.The bloodstains are large and engulf the off-white fabric.The color has since turned a rustic brown, a hole goingthrough the front and back where the piece of wood went in, the fabric fraying at the edges.

I stick my finger through the hole, hooking the fabric around it.That was me.That was my body less than a week ago.I can still feel it, the white-hot searing pain as the wood lodged itself into my gut.

Louise places a hand on my shoulder, her brows furrowed.“Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, but I am here if you need anything, Lasz.For anything, even if it’s just listening.”

Lips pressed together, I say nothing as I fold up the shirt and reach inside the tote bag for the jacket.I couldn’t stand to open it in the hospital; I didn’t know what would happen if I pulled it on.

But I do now.Part of me wonders—hopes—that it’ll send me back to him, but I’m still in my flat, my surroundings unchanged.I shrug it on with a grunt and adjust the collar.The familiar weight of it on my shoulders elicits a sigh from me, and I run my hands over it, fingers smoothing over buttons and catching in loops and black thread.

My fingers stop at one of the pockets, and I reach in, my fingertips skimming plastic.Lips parted in surprise, I pull out the bag with my phone and journal.I thought I’d lost it when I fell overboard, but Silas must have found it and shoved it into one of his pockets.

The image of his face when I showed him the camera flicks through my mind.The frown as I took a video of him laughing, as I placed my fingers over his and snapped a selfie of us.My hands shake as I pull it out of the bag and hold my thumb over the power button, and before I can stop myself, I type in my passcode as the background, a shot of Silas against a setting sun, pops up.

“Who’s that?”Louise asks quietly.

I open my mouth to say his name, to tell her about this man, but no words come out.How do I even start?What will she believe?I look at her, at those honey eyes that are warm and familiar, then down to her hand resting on my arm.

“I think I need to be alone,” I say instead.She frowns, and I can already hear the argument forming on her lips.“No,” I say, pocketing my phone and stepping back.“Louise, I know you have questions, but I-I need to figure some things out, okay?I need…” I need to grieve.

My chest squeezes tight, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold off the momentous hill of pain that I’m climbing up.I stand firm.“Please.”It comes out in a whisper.I can’t hold it together much longer, and she must see it in my face, hear it in my voice, because finally she nods and starts toward the door, pausing to slide off her copy of my key from her key ring.

“Until you get a replacement,” she says as she sets it down in the small bowl on the table in the hall before closing the door behind her.

I don’t move for a long moment.I stare around at the white walls and the drawn curtains, at the dark TV and small, minuscule pieces of my life I’ve left behind like a trail of breadcrumbs.I didn’t miss these modern comforts aboardShe Deceitful.Instead, I had Eddie to tell me jokes, Jack and Mick supporting me at my side, and Silas, who kept me happy and preoccupied.I had a full life.

There’s my backpack, slung over the back of a chair at the kitchen table, unzipped and open, practically empty.There’s the corkscrew left out on the counter, and a half-drunk glass of water left sitting out beside the sink.