Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
Instead, I sat alone at the bow, wind in my hair and hot tea clutched in my hands.
Finn held me without a word, solid and warm beside me even though I knew he had a galley to clean and a half-finished dinner to salvage.
The boat hummed around us, the occasional burst of laughter from the guests floating down from the upper deck like it was a different world entirely.
They were playing some game, or maybe still bickering over superlatives. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
I stared out into the endless black of the sea, moonlight glinting off the waves like shattered glass. Everything was calm now — too calm. Like the ocean itself was trying to pretend it hadn’t almost swallowed one of us whole.
But I remembered. My lungs still burned. My arms still ached. My heart still hadn’t found its normal rhythm.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered.
The words tasted like failure, like salt and shame and the thousand things I’d been too afraid to admit out loud. It had been the longest, hardest day of my life, and as much as I wanted to be strong, I didn’t feel it.
I was letting down the version of myself who used to be so sure. But tonight had cracked something wide open. I wasn’t invincible. I wasn’t immune to fear. And I wasn’t sure I could keep pretending I was.
Finn held me, silent but steady.
“I know how they’ll cut it,” I said, voice low, bitter.
“I can see the edit already, how they’ll make it seem like I’m unstable.
Unhinged. Reckless. They’ll make it look like I jumped for attention, like I was trying to be the hero for applause than just doing the right thing.
And I won’t be able to defend myself. I’ll just be the girl who lost it on camera. ”
I shook my head, the salt of the sea and my own frustration stinging behind my eyes.
“No matter what I do, I can’t win.”
My voice cracked, the words catching in my throat.
“What was it all for?”
Finn’s arm tightened slightly around me, but he didn’t speak. I appreciated that he was giving me the space to feel through everything without trying to fix it. He just let me sit in the sadness of it all, letting me know I wasn’t alone.
“I really… I really don’t know what the point is anymore.”
He exhaled slowly beside me, rubbing my back. “Then we walk away,” he said. “Screw the cameras. Screw the job. Let’s leave. You and me. Tonight. We’ll pack a bag and go.”
I turned to look at him, and there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.
And for a moment, God, I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to take his hand and fly down the stairs to the crew quarters, pack our shit, and be off the boat in the next thirty minutes.
I imagined us hiding away in a hotel somewhere in Naples, getting lost in each other and pretending like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But there was this part of me still burning despite the waves that had tried to douse every flame. It may have only been embers, but by my namesake — that was enough.
I shook my head. “No.”
Finn’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push. He just waited — silent, patient.
I sat up straighter, setting the half-empty mug of hot tea to the side.
“I’m not ready to give this up,” I said, and the admission cracked my heart wide open. “I love this job. I love what I do. I’ve worked too damn hard to let a production team or a mean crew or some bored internet trolls take it from me.”
I took a shaky breath, the wind whipping at my frizzed ponytail, the stars overhead like a thousand tiny witnesses.
“I don’t need them to see me. I don’t need the crew to like me. I don’t need the audience to follow me online or my dad to say he’s proud. I know what I did today. I know who I am. And I’m a damn good chief stew.”
The corner of Finn’s lips tilted up, his eyes beaming as they flicked between mine. “Fecking right, you are.”
“I deserve to be on this boat. I deserve this career. I deserve this dream. And I’m not walking away, even if they wish I would. Especially because they wish I would.”
The fire that had dimmed in me since the moment I surfaced with Maria in my arms sparked again, small but sure. Those embers were hot and alive and just waiting to catch.
Finn watched me for a long moment, then he wrapped me up tighter, his lips on my temple.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, the words carrying on the wind.
Warmth found me for the first time since I dove into the water, and I burrowed into Finn, into the comfort he provided. I was almost shocked by the fact that I meant what I said.
I really didn’t care what my father thought anymore — or anyone else.
Maybe all it took for me to drop the weight of their expectations was to realize this was my life, to live the way I wanted to.
I didn’t have the power to make everyone in the world understand me, but I did have the power to give myself the approval I’d been wishing for.
I pulled in a deep breath, the sea air sharp and clean in my lungs, and let it anchor me.
Let them edit me into a villain. Let the crew whisper behind my back. Let my father never see the value in what I’ve built.
I know what I’m worth.
“Finn.”
“Mm?”
I lifted my chin, eyes finding his in the dark. “Take me somewhere?”
Our shift wasn’t over. We had so much we still needed to do — clean the galley, prep food for tomorrow, clean up dinner service, make sure the guests were okay.
But for the moment, the rest of the crew had it handled. I didn’t know how long they’d give us this pass so I could regain composure, but I knew I didn’t want to waste what time we had just sitting here.
I needed him.
Finn swallowed, the motion thick in his throat before he helped me stand. I thought I saw a hint of a smile. “Trying to get us in trouble, Firefly?”
“Won’t be any trouble if we’re not caught.”
That had his eyes lighting, his fingers dragging the length of my arm until he took my hand in his.
“I know a place.”