27
Maika
Cagliari. Seventh day of the voyage.
The Marine IV docks in the port of Cagliari under a clear, bright blue sky that seems brand-new, as if created just to counter my negativity. From the promenade deck, as I watch the beautiful Sardinian city lazily awaken on its golden hills, I’m overcome by an absurd and idyllic sense of calm.
Although, of course, deep down I know I’m fooling myself.
Fate never tires of messing with you; it just takes a break, sits down with a bag of popcorn, and waits for the most inopportune moment to trip you up and watch you take a nasty fall.
But right this very moment I couldn’t care less, because I’m too busy enjoying the sea breeze.
At ten o’clock in the morning, taking advantage of the fact that we have a few free hours before the afternoon activities on board begin, we’re already roaming the cobblestone streets of Cagliari alongside the rest of the group.
Gonzalo leads the expedition as if he’d been named honorary mayor of Italy, gesturing wildly and pointing out every Baroque facade.
Nico walks beside him with his imposing SLR camera slung around his neck, snapping photos left and right.
Meanwhile, Leo has been trying for twenty minutes to convince Lara to step into a small bottega selling local products, using his best charmer’s smile and increasingly outlandish arguments.
And Helen… well, my straight-laced and wonderful officer walks right beside me.
Without hiding from the stares of others.
Without moving a single centimeter away from me.
Without pretending she isn’t devouring me with those wonderful eyes that, for days now, I’ve officially classified as my undoing.
I feel ridiculously happy, she is too, and that simple reality strikes me as so damn extraordinary that I still find it hard to believe I’m not dreaming.
“Come on, Maika, you’re smiling to yourself again, looking like you’ve just eaten a truckload of candy,” Gonzalo remarks, turning around in the middle of the street.
“And you’re still breathing and giving me a hard time, which surprises me even more,” I reply, raising an eyebrow.
“Is there no respect for your elders on this ship?”
“You’ve earned it, you pain in the neck.”
Helen lets out a crystal-clear laugh. And, for a change, I fall a little more in love with her.
The city glows with a spectacular light.
All around us, passengers from our own cruise ship mingle with locals heading to the store with their cloth bags.
Everything seems so easy, so simple, as if time had frozen and we were trapped in a perfect bubble where contracts, shipping companies, and bosses didn’t exist.
As we cross a street with heavy traffic, Helen takes my hand for a few seconds. I don’t know if she’s aware that this slightest touch almost gives me a heart attack, or if she knows it perfectly well and does it on purpose to throw me off balance. Knowing her, both options make sense to me.
We arrive in the upper part of the city, the historic Castello district, around noon. The imposing ancient walls rise majestically, dominating the entire bay and offering panoramic views of the harbor and our immense ship.
“If I’m not back by four, tell my mom I died immensely happy among the Sardinian stones,” Nico announces, camera in hand.
“Your mom already knows full well that you’re a born geek, Nico; we don’t need to send her postcards,” Lara says with a mocking smile.
“Thanks for the confidence boost,” he says, bowing exaggeratedly.
We end up settling on the terrace of a huge trattoria with spectacular views of the sea.
We push three wooden tables together, and the atmosphere is immediately filled with the typical hubbub of the crew when they come ashore.
We’ve survived so many maritime disasters together that we just look at each other and understand, which makes this moment feel incredibly precious and unique.
Helen sits right next to me, and Gonzalo, who has a PhD in being a pain in the ass, takes exactly seventeen seconds to throw his jab.
“But hey, look at them,” he says with a grin from ear to ear, pointing at us with his cutlery without the slightest pretense.
“Gonzalo, don’t even think about starting,” Helen warns him.
“Why not? I’m witnessing a high-class corporate romance in its purest form, live and in person,” he insists, slumping back in his chair. “It’s fascinating.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, please,” my girlfriend protests. Then she flashes a more than mischievous smile.
“Nonsense, my foot. In three years, I can see you two perfectly settled in a beautiful house with ocean views, sharing an office, discussing budgets, planning vacations, and organizing your schedules with color-coded calendars,” he concludes, waving his hands as if he were seeing the future in a crystal ball.
I almost spit out the sip of wine I’d just taken.
“Can we change the subject, please?” Helen asks, swirling her wine nervously.
“No,” Gonzalo replies, bursting out laughing.
“Gonzalo…” she warns him, narrowing her eyes.
“No way,” he repeats, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Nico chimes in from the other end of the table, raising his glass mischievously.
“Hey, I second the motion for the house with a view. You two make a magazine-cover couple.”
“And I second that Gonzalo shut his mouth before I smash the focaccia in his face,” adds Lara, tossing him a crumpled napkin.
Laughter erupts at the table like a wave of fresh air.
In that moment, surrounded by my people and feeling Helen’s warmth beside me, I allow myself the luxury of believing that this might turn out okay.
That the universe, for once in my life, is going to be kind to me and is going to give us a real chance.
Because that’s what happens to us when we brush against happiness with our fingertips: we become incorrigible optimists without even realizing it.
Spoiler alert: fate is a son of a bitch, and it’s about to slap me right across the face.
My phone starts to vibrate. I pull it out, look at the touchscreen, and the name that appears freezes my blood in an instant: Residencia Santa Catalina. My stomach clenches into a fist automatically. Something’s wrong. Very wrong. I know it before I swipe my finger across the screen to answer.
“Maika? What’s wrong?” Helen asks immediately. Her hand reaches for mine under the table, squeezing it urgently.
I stand up from my chair, making a titanic effort to keep my legs from shaking.
“I’ll be right back, guys.”
I stride away from the terrace, looking for a secluded, quiet corner by the old stone wall, and answer with a dry throat.
“Hello? Yes?”
The voice of the nursing home’s medical director comes through clearly.
“Good morning, Maika. I’m so sorry to bother you during your contract on the ship, really…”
“No. Please, god of the seas, don’t do this to me now,” I beg, clenching my teeth.
I listen carefully to the doctor’s explanation and feel as if the ground beneath my feet in Cagliari is disappearing.
Apparently, my grandmother has taken a bad fall in the garden.
Thank God it’s not too serious, but it’s serious enough to complicate my life.
She was rushed to the hospital for a full evaluation, and although there are no fractures, they’ve detected a rather nasty and complicated muscle tear that will require months of intensive rehabilitation, daily physical therapy, ongoing treatments, and constant medical care that the standard nursing home doesn’t cover.
And here comes the punch to the gut: starting next month, the monthly fee for the medical facility is going to increase by practically forty percent.
Forty percent more. Damn it!
I keep listening to the doctor’s report, nodding mechanically in the middle of the square and asking the necessary questions in a whisper.
But the conversation starts to sound distant and distorted to me.
When I finally hang up, my hands are shaking so much that I almost drop the phone on the ground.
My grandmother is alive and well. That’s the only thing that should matter to me. However…
A brutal, undeniable truth hits me right in the chest, leaving me breathless.
I turn my gaze toward the terrace and look at Helen from a distance.
I shake my head slowly, feeling a terrible twinge of pain in my heart.
What an idiot I’ve been. The salary from that promotion, the shipping company’s performance bonuses, the benefits, the financial stability…
Everything I was willing to give up last night for love so that Helen could fulfill her dream suddenly becomes a matter of life and death.
My precious, noble sacrifice as a lover was a rich person’s luxury I can no longer afford.
I lean my back against the wall, closing my eyes tightly and trying to catch my breath.
The worst part of this whole mess isn’t the money.
The worst part is going to be looking Helen in the eye.
Because now, I’m going to have to go out and fight.
I’m going to have to compete against her for real, tooth and nail, and take away the dream of her life to save my own.
“Maika.”
Her voice behind me makes me jump.
“What the hell happened?” she asks, closing the distance and cradling my face in her warm hands. “You’ve gone pale.”
I try to force one of my cool smiles to play it down, but I fail in the most miserable way possible.
“The nursing home… My grandmother,” I manage to whisper.
Helen’s jaw tenses.
I slump a little, and for the first time since I’ve known her, I decide to lay my life completely bare and let go of the weight.
With tears in my eyes, I confess how my grandmother raised me on her own when my parents turned their backs on the world, how she worked cleaning entryways until she was exhausted so that I would never go hungry, and why I swore I would never leave her helpless in her old age.
I tell her about the doctor’s call, leaving nothing out, making it clear that I have no idea where I’m going to get the money.
“My grandmother has always been a rock,” I murmur, staring at my feet. “The strongest, most determined, and bravest woman I’ve ever known. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Helen nods slowly and slides her thumbs across my cheekbones to wipe away a stray tear that has escaped.
“She’s just like you, Maika,” she says tenderly.
But I don’t feel that way right now. I feel like a coward, cornered and lost in the middle of an Italian island.
And yes, I also want to confess to her that I have to break last night’s pact, that I have to fight tooth and nail for the position again.
But at the same time, I don’t have the courage to break her heart right here in the middle of the street.
And instead, I seek her warmth, press myself against her chest, and let her wrap me in a tight embrace that saves me for a few seconds.
“Well… let’s get back to the guys before Gonzalo sends out a rescue team,” I say, reluctantly pulling away and looking her in the eyes. “The important thing is that she’s okay. The money… I’ll figure out how to handle the money.”
“I’m absolutely certain you will. You’re a force of nature,” Helen replies, giving me a tender kiss on the forehead.
My heart shatters into a thousand pieces right then and there.
Fate always finds the most twisted way to burst the bubbles of happiness.
Just when I was starting to believe that we’d finally found our way, fucking reality comes back to remind us that there’s no room for both of us on this ship.
And that there’s still a brutal battle to be fought.
A battle for the same spot in which, this time, the sacrifices of love won’t be enough.