Chapter 51 Bohdan
Bohdan
It might be more painful to say goodbye to Sloan on the gangway than it was to see her again—standing there, beautiful and brilliant, shining under the sun, waiting to board the ship.
My scar feels tighter than it should, pulling along my hairline, and the telltale throbbing starts the second I step down onto the dock. The corners of my vision are a bit fuzzy, and I know what science would say.
It’s the sleepless night spent propped up against a wall. It’s the dehydration from drinking more alcohol than I should have. It’s the exposure to all that sunlight over the last seven days. It’s the fact that I wasn’t exactly keeping up with my medication regimen the way that I should have.
Those things are probably all true.
But they’re not as true as what my heart says in my chest each time it beats.
It’s the girl.
It’s letting her go.
The wheels of her suitcase hit the worn wooden planks of the dock with a thud, and she looks up at me, the angles of her face soft, the freckles on her cheeks stark.
She blinks, shifting back and forth on her feet, and I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it, but she fiddles with the strap of her tank top, covering the tattoo. Uncovering it. She takes a shaky inhale, drops the strap—over the B—and reaches into her back pocket.
My cup ring sits in her outstretched palm.
“Sloan—” I start.
She scrunches her nose, shaking her head. “Take it. I definitely broke more rules than you.”
I do take it. Not because she broke more rules than me—I broke the biggest ones of all—and not because I’m particularly interested in keeping it, but I’m selfish and I want to feel my skin touch hers one last time.
She shivers when my thumb scrapes along her palm.
I reach for my wallet, but she holds her hand up. “Keep the Polaroid. I hope one day I won’t need it back.”
I feel a bit like laughing—my prized possession I’d have died to keep, and now I’d trade it, willingly, for a time machine or one more chance to make things right.
She must see it in the lines of my face, because she tilts her head to the side, hair tumbling over her shoulder, and she winces, eyes darting around the dock like she’s waiting for the bad thing to happen, and whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, voice rough. I palm my jaw before grinning at her. “Never stopped. Never will. I’ll be waiting for your pigeon, Zlatí?ko.”
She laughs—it catches on unshed tears, but she tips her head back, her eyes sparkle under the sun and her palm splays across the golden skin of her chest.
Time stops and I want to hold on to that sound for the rest of my life, but Tia steps down onto the dock beside her, nudging her shoulder. “Sloan, you ready?”
Sloan gives her a shallow nod, and she forces a bright smile when she hugs Talon and Jay goodbye.
Tia holds her arms outstretched, and she pops up onto her toes when she hugs me, whispering softly before she kisses my cheek, “Who knew your martyrdom could end up serving a purpose greater than your self-sacrifice?”
She pats the side of my face before she interlaces her fingers with Sloan’s, and steers them both, luggage rolling along behind them, to the opposite end of the dock.
Sloan looks back once. She doesn’t say anything, but she holds her hand up in a tiny wave.
I wait until she looks away before dropping my head back and staring up at the sun a bit too long.
“Sorry, Bohdan.” Jay runs his thumb along the inside of his chain.
“No one to blame but myself for this one.” I press my fingers to my forehead before scrubbing my face. “Sorry we ruined your cruise, Talon.”
“You didn’t. But, I am sorry your life got upended.” Talon gives me a pinched smile, fiddling with fraying rope bracelets around his wrists. “Again.”
I scoff, holding the ring up and spinning it around on my finger. The turquoise diamonds brighter when they catch in the sun. “Think I should pitch this into the water?”
“Jesus, Bohdan—no.” Jay reaches out, snatching it off my finger and pocketing it. “You can have it back when you’ve regained your sanity.”
“So, never then?” Talon taps his temple. “Head’s scrambled on that one.”
“Easy.” I give him a flat look.
“Too soon?” Talon cringes before drumming his fingers against the hard shell of his giant suitcase. “What should we do tonight? Don’t have to fly out until tomorrow. There’s this boat you can have dinner on and watch the sunset—”
“No,” Jay and I both speak, cutting him off.
Talon holds his hands up, exasperated. “Do you want me to see if I can get last-minute FC tickets? Friend of mine from Sweden plays for Barcelona.”
They both turn to me, expectant.
“Yeah, alright.” I nod. “That sounds okay.”
Talon grins, knocking Jay on the shoulder. “Look at him, communicating his wants and needs already.”
“He’s got a long way to go if you count five words as communication,” Jay murmurs, but he glances at me, a softer, rare, encouraging smile stretching across his face.
He’s not wrong. I do have a long way to go.
“It’s bright.” Talon points up at the sun hanging in the sky before his thumbs start furiously moving across the screen of his phone. “Put your sunglasses on.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter, and when I pull them from the neck of my shirt, I look back down the dock.
Tia and Sloan stopped about halfway down the cobblestone street. Sloan’s crying—taking these giant, gasping inhales that Tia mirrors, hands planted firmly across each of Sloan’s shoulders.
A line of lancing pain snakes down my scar. The muscles in my thighs twitch, ready to push past everyone still milling around as they exit the ship, ready to tear the world down to get to her—all those languages I learned to count to six in ready to roll off my tongue.
Tia turns her head, gaze catching mine, and even though she’s too far away, she mouths something to me when she squeezes Sloan’s shoulder.
It might be I’ve got it or She’s got it, and either would be true.
Tia won’t let anything happen to her.
I wish it was me walking away with Sloan.
But she’s bigger and braver and better than she’s ever believed and someday she won’t need to count and she won’t need facts and she won’t need me—but I do hope when that day comes, she’ll still want me.