Chapter Ten
ten
hope
Adrian hasn’t answered. He sits across from me, silent, taking time to consider what I’ve asked of him, eyes downcast and face shuttered, unreadable. Something jealousy-adjacent flares in my chest at the thought of all the fans and followers who’ve had access to him while to me he’s become a stranger.
So much has happened since I left. The internet fame. The career pivot. The how and why is shocking, but his success is no surprise. And even though he left a Mariana Trench–sized gouge in my heart, I am so proud of him. What hurts is that losing him knocked me off-course, yet he kept going without missing a beat.
Until I fell in love with him, I assumed I needed to be single to have the career of my dreams, that planning life around someone else would hold me back, and that belief never quite left, despite how different our relationship felt than what I’d imagined about love.
Ever since I learned a career in science was a possibility, I’ve been focused on getting there. I was a curious kid, especially when it came to the natural world. Always fascinated by seaweed on the beach or minnows in the shallows. Always asking why. My parents seemed content to accept rather than ask questions. Rather than careers, they both had jobs they neither loved nor loathed. Work was a way to pay the bills, to take care of me and each other.
In my mind, they settled into a boring life, one I never wanted. I equated love with stagnation, or worse, with putting dreams on hold until life intervened and took away the desire. But meeting Adrian changed all that. Our relationship didn’t interfere with my dreams or take away my desires. Not until I was ready to apply for a doctoral program.
Adrian was looking for a postdoc position, and it was the perfect time to at least try to be in the same city, or at least the same state. I was as excited to be close to him, to maybe even wake up next to him every morning. But the more time we spent planning and arranging and shifting and worrying over how to mesh our lives, the more I missed the simplicity of our relationship before we tried to arrange our lives around one another. Missed how easy it felt to love him when practicality didn’t factor in.
All my worst fears about love being a hindrance seemed to be coming true. So I started looking at universities further away, ones not previously on my radar. I even considered applying to colleges out of the country, anything to put off merging our lives like a shared calendar. I loved Adrian with all my heart, but I worried I’d be settling to work my dreams around his. I wanted to stay together, I just wasn’t sure about the next step. Except Adrian didn’t see it that way. He thought I was looking for a way out.
“You can stay.” The rumble of his voice brings me back to the present. “But if we’ll be working together, there are things we need to discuss. Because our relationship—”
I raise a hand to halt this detour into personal territory. “Is in the past. We don’t have to talk about it.”
He frowns. “We kind of do. I want to make sure this is a comfortable work environment.”
Comfortable was how we used to cuddle on the sofa after a day at sea, reveling in the miracle of air-conditioning and crushed ice, my head pillowed on his chest. Comfortable is not arm’s length, watchful and wary. But I need to adjust and accept the change. That’s why I’m here.
“I appreciate that. What can I do to put you at ease?”
“Put me at ease?” The furrow between his brows deepens. “I was worried about you.”
That makes two of us, but not for the reason he thinks. “No worries on my account.”
His teeth sink into his lower lip, uncertain. “But the fact remains that we used to date. You don’t think that might affect our interactions?”
Ugh, I hate this. Hate that this is a million times harder than I expected. Hate that there’s no way I can ever trust him with my heart again, even though part of me wants to fling myself into his arms and never let go. “You’re right. It happened. We happened.”
His eyes meet mine, but resolve has solidified in my chest. I’m here to get my life back on track. Our paths diverged three years ago. He stayed on course, and I’m here to find my way back. “We have a history, Adrian. But that’s all it is. History.” Saying it aloud is as much for my benefit as his. My heart needs to be onboard.
He gives a small shake of his head. “I can’t just erase more than five years of memories.” Over half a decade. But we’ve been apart almost as long. “I don’t know how to pretend we’re strangers.”
I didn’t come here to pretend, but I’m also not here to open old wounds. “I’m not denying our history.” Though it’s hard to think of it in the past tense with his presence so immediate—sitting mere feet away, legs splayed, arms crossed, so near I can see the rise of his chest with each inhale.
“But I just want to move on.” Like he so clearly has. “To treat this like a job.”
He meets my eyes, expression serious. “It is a job.”
I huff out a breath. “One where there’s no underlying tension between me and my boss.”
“I’m not your boss,” he says.
“Supervisor.”
His scratches his beard. “I never thought of it that way.” I can see the wheels churning in his mind. He’s prone to finding worst-case scenarios, and there are a million ways this could go wrong.
But after a moment, he says, “We don’t have an HR department, but I’ll have our lawyer draft some paperwork to protect your employment. Make it clear you report to Marissa, not me.”
“That’s a good call.” Part of me can’t help but notice as much as his life’s changed, he’s still the man I fell in love with. Considerate. Thoughtful. Careful in all things, except in his handling of my heart.
He holds my gaze, eyes searching my face. Emotions drift across his dark brown eyes like the play of ripples on the seafloor, then his expression smooths into resolve. “Then let’s move forward as colleagues, and let the past stay gone.”
Exactly what I wanted, though the word feels hollow. But Adrian-as-Colleague is a step beyond the No-Adrian Rule. A way to coexist without the burden of holding on to old hurts. The next step in letting go.
The boat bobs sharply on the placid surface, and I glance up to see Marissa climbing aboard. She sends a tentative smile my way. “Since everyone’s here, I thought maybe we could salvage the day with a trip out to Winyah Bay.”
“To tag sharks?” I smile for what feels like the first time in years, but I temper my expectations. “Or just to get me acquainted with the area?”
“You came to work, right?” Marissa’s words are a dare, and I freaking love a challenge, bruised heart or not.
I crack my knuckles. “Heck yes I did.”
“Then let’s go find some sharks,” she says.
Go time.
Wait time, more like. Setting lines is methodical and we have to adhere to the time allotted by the research permits. Once the lines are in the water, we might hook a shark in five minutes or half an hour or not at all. In the meantime, Marissa outlines the data she’s hoping to collect this summer to study shark immune response to stress, and Adrian’s current focus on migratory patterns of sharks off the Carolina coast.
He leaves us to it, moving off into the stern to work on his laptop. Gabe plops down next to me and opens up his camera case. A rush of queasiness lurches up my throat at the sight. I take a deep inhale through my nose and focus on my breaths until the sensation abates, like I’ve done countless times on rough seas. But this time what’s making my stomach unsettled is the thought of a camera following my every move.
When Gabe hoists a camcorder onto his shoulder, I inadvertently pull back, tense. He must notice my stiff posture, because he leans away from the viewfinder with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, this will all be edited before we share it, and you’ll always get a chance to sign off before we do. No live filming in the field. Boss’s orders.”
“He’s worried I’ll do something to embarrass y’all?” I’m worried enough for both of us. I tanked my first and only on-camera interview, but this time I’ll be doing familiar work. As long as I can forget about being filmed, I should be fine.
“Not at all.” Cooler in hand, Adrian appears, startling me. His physical presence—very physical, with the way his lightweight tee clings to his torso—is going to take getting used to, since for years he’s been confined only to my thoughts. “It’s our standard practice. For one thing, we don’t want to bore viewers with hours of nonaction. For another, it allows us to control the content, to ensure—”
“Shark on the line,” Marissa calls out, and I’m on my feet in an instant, worries forgotten. We all rush to the stern, where she hauls in the line carefully, hand over hand, until a fluttering dorsal fin appears alongside the boat. “Little guy.” She smiles over her shoulder. “Want to help with the work-up or watch this first time around?”
“Help, obviously.” But my hands are shaky as I step in between them. After the tumultuous morning, I feel like this is a performance eval, and considering I just got fired and my new colleague is my ex, my confidence isn’t so hot. Once I lean over the side of the boat and reach over to help secure the shark, though, my nerves flee. Marissa’s right, it’s a small shark, and I instantly recognize the characteristic elongated caudal fin and pointed snout of an Atlantic sharpnose shark.
Catching one is a normal occurrence here, but there’s no containing the leap of joy I have at seeing the animal just below the surface, the distinctive shape one I haven’t seen in years, yet familiar as ever. I half turn to ask Adrian for a tape measure and catch sight of Gabe. Nerves surge, but he’s lowered the camera off his shoulder, holding it casually at his side as his knees flex with the rhythm of the waves.
He smiles. “Figure you deserve a warm-up round, especially given the gauntlet you went through earlier. We’ve filmed enough tags that missing one won’t matter.”
Nice of him, but before I can reply, Adrian hands me the thin tape measure, and muscle memory takes over, guided by my years of study. I put the tape on the shark’s snout and stretch it carefully along the length of its body and relay the number to Adrian, who scribbles it in a notebook, hand clamped to keep the pages from blowing in the breeze.
Marissa’s frown of concentration hasn’t downgraded to a scowl, which is a good sign. We’ve never worked together but she’s got a no-nonsense reputation, and I don’t expect her to cut me any slack just because we’re friends. I work around her to wrap the tape measure around the shark’s trunk and call out the measurement.
“Got it,” Adrian says. On paper, this first trip out with him should be weird, but in practice it’s anything but. No time to worry about awkwardness when you’re dealing with a live animal and every minute counts. I step back at Marissa’s direction and switch tasks with Adrian—me taking notes, him stepping in for blood draw.
After taking a tissue sample, he beckons me forward to demonstrate the procedure for implanting the dart tag used for this species. It’s a quick procedure that doesn’t harm the animal and allows for monitoring on the abundance of this species in the area and will be used for a variety of studies if the shark is recaptured. Then it’s time to release the shark.
Simple. Straightforward. Fantastic.
My smile is so broad my cheeks hurt. Just a routine work-up, but I’m elated. Energy buzzes through my veins, and the salty ocean air is electric. My limbs are abuzz with adrenaline, but my head feels clear in a way I haven’t experienced in years. Adrian steps up next to me, and when he sees my face, a wide grin spreads across his cheeks. Even with his eyes hidden behind reflective blue sunglasses, I can feel the warmth of his gaze.
“Like you never left.” Adrian holds out his palm for a high five and I slap it without thinking. The casual contact has my blood buzzing for an entirely different reason than a moment ago, and I yank my hand away, but his touch tingles on my skin, like tiny aftershocks.
His smile fades, replaced by a neutral expression. “Ready for the camera?”
I take another step back, queasy all over again. What if the camera had captured my reaction to that brief moment of connection? What if everything I feel for him will be visible on the screens of the thousands of people who watch the video, and worse, what if holding back while working together leaves me craving him more than ever?