Chapter 25
Confessions of the Broken Hearted – Kayla
N ow that he’s feeling better, I feel more comfortable talking to him about what happened last night.
“Can I come in?”
“Hold on a second.”
He closes the door, and I hear him rummaging around.
“Now it’s fit for a lady. Come on.” He opens it and gestures for me to walk in.
He must’ve missed a pair of boxers on his bed, but I just discard them onto the floor before sitting down. “So, what the hell happened last night?” It all feels like a blur to me.
His hands go to his head, and he shakes it. “I—I don’t know. I don’t even remember a lot of it. I’m so sorry if I was a jerk to you.” His eyes widen in horror. “Oh, god. Please say I wasn’t a jerk to you.”
“You weren’t.”
He sighs in what I assume is relief. “Good.”
I wince. “But why did you get so drunk?” It also seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. One minute he was fine and the next, he was totally blasted.
He raises his arm and then slaps it down on his thigh. “I don’t know.”
Then, he drinks more of the concoction I brought for him before his entire body quivers.
“God that’s disgusting.”
“Jack…”
He sighs before slumping down onto the bed next to me. “I guess it upset me to see you dance with other guys.”
This confession makes me happy and sad at the same time. The latter emotion has to do with the fact that I assume this is going to come with more emotional gymnastics.
“That isn’t fair.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I stand up. “I get that this is a delicate situation, but you need to decide what you want here.” I’m proud of myself for being so assertive.
“I know.”
“… well?”
He gets to his feet and approaches me, grabbing and holding just above my elbows. His touch is still electrifying.
“I—”
He releases me and then walks away.
I’m left puzzled. What the hell?
Moments later he returns with his breath smelling minty.
“Sorry about that. I just didn’t want to be blowing bone broth into your face.”
I stare at the ground before meeting his gaze. “I appreciate that. You were saying?” My heart starts beating faster.
“I like you.”
I smile shyly. “I like you, too.”
His arms are crossed, and he wipes his nose with his thumb. “But I’m scared.”
Now it’s me who grabs him—holding his hands in mine. “Of what?”
He glares at me desperately. “Of you becoming another Harper.”
I roll my eyes. “Please don’t insult me like that.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I understand your trepidation, but I promise you… I’m nothing like her. For one thing, you’re never going to see me pouting like an idiot.” I do my best to mock her. He laughs.
“And you probably wouldn’t try to trick me into thinking you were pregnant.”
My face turns serious again. “She did that?”
He nods. “Even though I know for a fact that she can’t have children.”
“Wow.” That’s a whole other level of crazy.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I wholeheartedly promise I would never do something like that. Or cheat on you. I think that’s one of the most offensive things you can do to someone.”
A corner of his mouth upturns. “I appreciate that.”
But then something hits me, and I take a few steps away from him.
“What is it?”
“I just—this whole thing could’ve been avoided you know?”
He glares at me like he’s puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
I’m a little frustrated that he’s playing dumb. “The note?”
“What note?”
Crossing my arms, I explain, “The one I left for you on the ship. I slipped it under your door—”
He’s spluttering. “Kayla… I—I have no idea…”
My head cocks, and my eyes squint. “Seriously?”
“I swear.” He runs his hand along his dark hair. “I never saw anything.”
We both just stare at each other for a moment before his mouth drops. “Wait a minute.”
“What?”
He then looks over at the door. “Bryant.”
Now I’m the confused one. “What does he have to do with anything?”
He falls back onto the bed. “I saw something in his back pocket. It was the morning I caught him in my bedroom.”
“Okay?”
Standing again, he reaches out for my hand, and I accept it. After that, we both storm down the uneven stairs and find him reading a newspaper on the couch.
When he notices us, he puts the pipe in his mouth down, and I can see that it’s empty.
Such an interesting habit, I note. I’d seen him doing the same thing before.
“What’s going on?” He then folds the paper, puts it to his side, and leans over with his elbows on his knees.
Jack and I exchange a look.
“Hello?” Captain Bryant waves his arms in the air as if we couldn’t see him before.
With a sigh, Jack asks, “Wesley, did you find a note in my room? Back on board. I mean.”
The captain reaches up and massages his mustache with his thumb and pointer finger. “Hmm.”
“Well?” I insist.
“Fine. Yes. Yes, I did,” he admits while leaning back and putting his long arms up along the back of the furniture.
When I glimpse down, I notice Jack’s hands clench.
“Why?” he demands from his friend.
“Because I knew it was trouble. I—I had no idea the ‘K’ was for Kayla, though.”
With a tightened jaw, Jack then asks, “Would that have made a difference?”
Captain Bryant shrugs. “Probably not. But don’t forget. I was the one who was with you every day after Harper broke your heart, and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t see you go through something like that again, Jay.”
Jack puts his hands on his forehead before he starts pacing. “You had no right, Wesley.”
“Maybe not. But I was just trying to protect you.”
Now, I step in. “From what? From me?”
He’s silent for a moment before confessing, “Yes. I suppose so. Inadvertently, of course. But it was obviously written by a female. And a female employee at that.”
A small pit starts developing in my stomach, and I gripe it in an effort to stop its growth. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
Jack then stops walking around, and he faces me. “Of course not.”
I sigh in relief. “Okay. It’s not like…”
He nods. “I know.” Apparently, I didn’t need to finish my sentence, but I was going to say that I never planned for any of this to happen. I mean, I didn’t intend on running into him that night in Fort Lauderdale, and it was his idea to go to that restaurant.
“So, what is this between you two then?” Captain Bryant asks.
Again, Jack and I stare at each other.
“We aren’t sure yet,” I finally answer, feeling empowered to be the first one to say it.
“Uh-huh. I see. Well,” he raises to his feet and hoists his green pants up, “It would appear to me that you two have a little more talking to do. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He grabs his pipe and newspaper. “Best of luck to ya.”
Before heading out the door, he grabs one of his newsboy hats and plops it on his head.
When he’s gone, I slip my hands into the back pockets of my pants. “Well?”
“Well…”