Chapter 7: Nassau
The ship docked at Nassau at seven in the morning.
I watched from the balcony.
The port was already busy — crew moving equipment, passengers gathering near the gangway with excursion tickets and sun hats.
The sky was pale blue and cloudless.
Ryan was still asleep on the cot.
At seven forty-five, I saw her.
Diane Marsh came down the gangway with a single rolling suitcase and a carry-on bag.
She was wearing sunglasses and a linen jacket.
The friend I'd heard on the balcony walked beside her — older, shorter, moving quickly.
They crossed the dock without looking back.
I watched until they disappeared into the terminal building.
Then I went inside and put the kettle on.
Ryan woke up when Mason started talking — Mason always woke everyone up, loudly and without apology, announcing the day like it was news.
Ryan sat up on the cot, disoriented, and watched Mason pull on his shoes while narrating the process in full detail.
Something in Ryan's face looked like a man seeing his life from a distance.
"She's gone," I said.
I was pouring hot water into a cup.
I didn't look at him.
"I watched from the balcony."
Ryan was quiet for a moment.
"Okay."
"It's not okay," I said.
"I just thought you should know."
Mason looked up.
"Who's gone?"
"Nobody you need to worry about," I said.
He accepted this and went back to his shoes.
We went ashore for the excursion.
Gerald had booked a catamaran trip months ago — the whole family, snorkeling, lunch on the water.
Under any other circumstances it would have been perfect.
We went anyway.
Because Mason had been talking about snorkeling for two months.
Because Emma needed sunscreen and a hat and a reason for her mother to keep moving.
On the catamaran, Mason discovered he was afraid of the depth once he was actually in the water.
He wouldn't let go of the ladder.
Ryan went in beside him and stayed there, patient, not pushing, just treading water and talking quietly until Mason let go of the ladder and put his face in.
I watched from the deck with Emma on my lap.
Patricia sat down beside me.
"He's a good father," she said.
It wasn't a defense.
It was just a fact, offered carefully.
"I know," I said.
"Those two things can both be true."
"I know that too."
She was quiet for a moment.
"My sister said to call anytime.
No pressure.
Just — whenever you're ready to think about what comes next."
"I called her this morning," I said.
"While you were all at breakfast."
Patricia looked at me.
"I just asked questions," I said.
"I didn't decide anything.
I just needed to know what the questions were."
Patricia nodded slowly.
"And?"
"And I need to know one more thing before I can decide anything."
In the water, Ryan had his hand flat on the surface near Mason.
Mason had let go completely now.
He was floating, face down, looking at whatever was below him.
"I need to know if the year Patricia's sister found in those messages was actually the beginning," I said.
"Or if there's more before that."
Patricia didn't answer right away.
"I need to know how long I've been living in something that wasn't real," I said.
"Because that changes what I do next."
The catamaran rocked gently.
Emma grabbed at the strap of my bag.
"I'll find out," Patricia said quietly.
"I know you will," I said.
"That's why I'm asking you and not him."
That evening, back on the ship, Ryan knocked on the balcony door while I was sitting outside.
I let him in.
He sat in the other chair.
For a while neither of us said anything.
The port lights of Nassau were still visible behind us, growing smaller.
"I need to ask you something," I said.
"And I need you to tell me the truth.
Not the version that protects you.
The actual truth."
He looked at me.
"How long before Diane?"
His jaw moved.
"Ryan."
"There was someone else," he said.
"Before.
It didn't — it wasn't the same.
It ended before you got pregnant with Emma."
The port lights were very small now.
"How many?" I asked.
May you like
He closed his eyes.
I had my answer.
