14. Chapter 14
Adam
I wake to the gentle rocking of the ship and the dull realization that another day has begun on this floating nightmare.
It’s been two days since I saw Rachel’s Instagram posts, three days of calling Caitlin’s number only to reach her voicemail, three days of increasingly desperate texts that remain unread.
Sleep comes in fits and starts, interrupted by Rhonda’s quiet sobbing and Millie’s too-close presence in the cramped stateroom.
My mother insisted there was nothing meant by the sleeping arrangements.
“Getting two staterooms with a connecting door was simply the most cost-effective way to do it,” but I know better.
This is her matchmaking, as transparent as the Caribbean waters outside our porthole.
I’ve taken to sleeping fully clothed, my back a rigid line at the edge of my narrow bed.
I reach for my phone before my eyes are fully open, checking for any sign of Caitlin. Nothing. My screen fills with yesterday’s unanswered messages:
Please just let me know you’re okay.
Can we talk? Just for five minutes?
Caitlin, please.
The desperation in my own words makes me cringe.
I switch to Instagram, scrolling through Rachel’s feed for any new posts.
Still nothing since the Thanksgiving photos that shattered my world — Caitlin, smiling with her family, looking more alive than I’ve seen her in months.
The thought that keeps me awake at night: she’s happier without me.
“Morning.” Millie calls out softly, her voice sleepy and intimate in the half-light. “How’d you sleep?”
“Not great.” I sit up, already reaching for my shoes. I need to escape this room, this closeness. “Going for a walk.”
“I’ll come with—”
“No.” It comes out harsher than I intended. I soften my voice. “I just need some air. Alone.”
Her face falls, but I can’t bring myself to care. Every moment with her on this ship feels like I’m betraying Caitlin even more than I already have.
I find my parents at breakfast, sitting together in icy silence. Mom picks at her eggs, lips pursed in disapproval.
“The eggs are rubbery,” she announces to no one in particular. “And the coffee is bitter.”
Dad doesn’t look up from his phone. “Write a strongly worded letter.”
“I might just do that, Gerald. Someone should tell them that just because we’re on a boat doesn’t mean standards should go overboard.”
Her attempt at humor falls flat. Dad doesn’t even look up. “One more day,” he mutters.
“What was that?” Mom’s voice sharpens.
“Nothing, Paula. Just thinking out loud.”
I debate getting food and decide against it. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Lauren and Jake have already eaten and taken off.” Mom sniffs. “Hailey’s sleeping in. And Rhonda had a rough night, so Millie’s staying with her this morning.”
A small mercy. I pull out my phone, checking it again.
Mom’s eyes narrow. “Still no word from her, I take it?”
I don’t answer, which is answer enough.
“Well, perhaps this is for the best,” she continues, stirring her coffee with unnecessary force. “I’ve always thought you and Caitlin were moving too quickly. Sometimes these distractions need to run their course before you can see clearly.”
“Paula,” Dad warns, finally looking up.
“What? I’m only saying what we’re all thinking. Adam deserves someone who understands his responsibilities, his position in the community. Someone who appreciates family values.”
“Someone like Millie, you mean?” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Mom has the grace to look slightly abashed. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” I stand unable to stomach another minute of this conversation. “I’m going to the pool.”
I spend the rest of the day trying to avoid my family and Millie with mixed results, slipping from one place to another whenever I see anyone approaching.
By late afternoon, after what feels like an endless loop around the ship, I find myself back on deck, leaning against the railing, and savoring the solitude.
“There you are! We’ve been looking for you.” I hear my mother’s voice cutting through the sound of the waves. “Adam!” I turn slowly, my stomach sinking as she strides toward me, flanked by Millie.
“Yeah, I was just—” I start, but she interrupts, her expression frustrated.
“Why haven’t you spent more time with everyone? This is a family trip, not a retreat for you to sulk.” Her tone is sharp, and I can feel Millie’s eyes on me, waiting for my response.
“I just needed some space, mom” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Space isn’t what you need right now. You should be connecting with us, not hiding away.
This trip was supposed to be a way to help Millie and Rhonda through their first major holiday without Eric, remember?
” She crosses her arms, and I can see the disappointment etched on her face.
“Millie tells me you’ve barely done anything with her since Thanksgiving.
She feels like you’re avoiding her.” Guilt twists in my gut at Mom’s words.
I glance over at Millie, who’s leaning against the railing a few feet away, her dark hair blowing in the sea breeze.
She catches me looking and smiles, that same small, sad smile she’s perfected over years of being the girl everyone feels sorry for.
Once, that smile could make me drop everything to rush to her side. Now, all I feel is resentment.
“Maybe we could all do something together?” She asks, glancing between Mom and me.
I want to scream that spending time with Millie is the last thing I want to do. Instead, I force a smile. “Maybe later.”
My mother narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Later isn’t good enough, Adam. You’re not being a very good friend to Millie right now.”
They stand there, waiting for me to engage, to give in like I always do. And all I wish is that I could just disappear into the ocean.
“Not right now, Mom. I’m sorry.” I ignore her small gasp. It’s not often that one of her children doesn’t jump to do what she wants. I turn and walk away, feeling their eyes on my back.
“Adam!” Millie catches up to me and grabs my arm. “Adam, please tell me what’s wrong. I could help you. Or,” she places one of her hands on my chest and presses herself closer, “I could distract you.”
Nausea churns inside me at the thought, and I yank my arm out of her grasp, stepping back with a suddenness that startles her.
“No, Millie,” I say, while she stands there gaping at me, “that’s never happening.”
Unable to stand either of them for another moment, I turn and walk away.
* * *
My phone buzzes, and my heart leaps, but it’s just Lauren, asking where I am because dinner is in an hour.
I text back that I’ll meet them there, then return to staring at the horizon, wondering what Caitlin is doing right now.
Is she thinking about me at all? Does she miss me as much as I miss her? Do I have any chance of fixing things?
Dinner is a minefield. Rhonda’s eyes are red-rimmed, her glass of wine already empty when I arrive. Mom and Dad won’t even look at each other and speak only when necessary. Hailey chatters nervously to fill the silence, while Lauren and Jake exchange looks that say they’d rather be anywhere else.
Only Millie seems genuinely happy, her hand finding my arm as I take my seat beside her. “I missed you today,” she says, leaning close enough that I can smell her perfume. “I hope you’re feeling better?”
“Yeah, just needed some space.” I shift my chair slightly away.
“Well, you’re here now.” Her smile is warm and intimate. “And you look very handsome tonight.”
Before I can respond, my parents launch into their latest argument, something about the excursion Dad went on today without consulting Mom. Their voices grow sharper with each exchange, other diners glancing our way with thinly veiled curiosity.
“I don’t understand why you couldn’t have discussed it with me first,” Mom hisses. “You know I get seasick on small boats.”
“That’s why I booked it for myself, Paula. Not everything is about you.”
“Clearly, nothing is about me on this trip—”
“That you planned,” Dad interrupts. “You insisted on it. And it’s costing me a small fortune for the privilege of listening to you complain every damned moment of the day.”
“Mom, Dad,” Lauren attempts, “maybe not here?”
They fall into frigid silence. I drain my wine glass, wishing for something stronger. Under the table, Millie’s knee presses against mine. I move my leg away, but there’s nowhere to go in the cramped seating.
Somehow, we get through dinner. As soon as it’s socially acceptable, I excuse myself, ignoring Mom’s pointed comment about family time.
I head straight for the stateroom, hoping for a few moments alone before Millie and Rhonda return.
My head pounds with tension, with worry about Caitlin, with the claustrophobia of being trapped on this ship with all these expectations.
I check my phone again — still nothing, then Instagram. Neither Rachel nor Caitlin has posted anything new. The knot in my stomach tightens.
The door opens, and Millie slips in alone. “Mom’s having coffee with your parents,” she says, locking the door behind her. Something in her expression makes me sit up straighter.
“Where’s Hailey?”
“She went dancing with Lauren and Jake.” She approaches slowly, deliberately. “We have some time alone.”
Warning bells sound in my head. “I was actually about to go for a walk.”
“I think you’ve had plenty of fresh air today, don’t you?”
She sits on the edge of my bed, too close. Her hand finds my knee. “Adam, I’ve been thinking about us.”
“There is no us, Millie.” I stand, putting distance between us. “There hasn’t been for a long time.”
“Because you left.” Her voice softens. “But you came back. And now we’re here together.”
“I came back for my family’s business. And I’m here because our families are friends and your dad died. That’s it.”