Chapter 22
Mateo
I draw another tally on my notepad when Jett yawns. Sixth time in ten minutes.
Vivian steers the ROV from the control panel at the front of the room, guiding the joystick to adjust camera angles and the path trajectory. The main lights are off, and the monitors and dashboard buttons illuminate the space in bright artificial light.
Steam rises from the coffee in my hand, filling the small room with the scent of ground beans, and the caffeine is all that’s keeping me awake.
When I sent Charlie to bed, I didn’t realize the sword I’d fall upon. My hope was to witness something incredible while she was sound asleep, but so far, the ROV dive has yielded nothing rare.
Vivian circles a seamount, the rocky, jagged slopes teeming with life.
Mauve corals and tangerine feather stars dot its outer edges.
Anemones, small and bright, sway in the current.
She hovers by a small bubblegum-pink lumpfish, its sucker attached to free rock.
It looks apathetically at the camera, like it’s tired of the paparazzi .
She passes the edge of the mount and explores the muddy plains, where isopods and sea pigs reign. We hover directly above the seafloor for an hour, and other than one octopus, too quick to disappear, there’s little to keep the others entertained.
Every organism excites me—not as much as the microbial communities within the sediment—but the small invertebrates have lost their sparkle for the rest of the crew, Jett and Doug included.
Jett went from barking orders at Doug to film every possible minute to slouched in the chair in the corner, fighting sleep—and losing. Doug is drooling, his beanie lowered to block the light. Vivian switches her music to early-2000s club hits and bobs her head as she works.
“You can go to bed,” I whisper to Jett, who jolts upright in his chair, having dozed off after his last yawn.
“What is it?” He scrambles to the screen, leaning in close to view nothing but seafloor. Lots of sediment, very few living creatures he would find interesting.
In reality, the sediment is teeming with life, invisible to the naked eye. There’s potentially thousands of species undiscovered at the seafloor—many of which could hold unique characteristics to improve science and healthcare.
“Dirt. More freaking dirt. Where are the cool-ass creatures with no eyes or clear heads!”
Uh-oh .
Jett is approximately ten seconds away from a toddler-style overtired meltdown. Vivian meets my stare, and the fear in her expression pulls a chuckle from my chest.
Jett whirls on me, overwhelmed and too tired to process his emotions. Thankfully, Charlie has prepared me for this moment. The number of times I’ve had to steer her away from the edge of a mental breakdown is not incredibly high, but it’s happened once or twice .
And those are the moments I feel closest to her—when she lets me see behind the mask she wears to keep herself safe. When she allows me to witness the rawest parts of her soul and doesn’t pull away when I examine them.
For Charlie, showing vulnerability gives someone else control; power to hurt.
It’s a mindset rooted in the need to protect oneself from the world, from the harsh realities they’ve had to face.
She simply needs someone to show her there’s strength in offering the most vulnerable parts to someone else.
“It’s late.” I lower my voice into something soft. “Why don’t you head up for the night?”
“I don’t want to miss anything…”
“You won’t. If we see anything, I’ll come get you.”
Jett contemplates the offer, unlike Doug, who’s out the door and disappearing down the hallway without a goodnight or goodbye.
“All right.” He moves to the door but pauses.“If anything has razor-sharp teeth, you have to run and get me.”
I nod and shoo him out before he can change his mind. When I’m confident he’s not going to return, I drop into the empty seat beside Vivian.
There’s an amicable silence between the two of us until she brutally murders it by asking, “You and Charlie are getting your freak on, right?”
I sputter for a coherent response that doesn’t incriminate us, but it’s too late.
“I knew it!”
“I didn’t say anything,” I grumble, rubbing my jaw.
Unless having uncomfortable conversations where I have to ask her to put me out of my misery or give us a shot is considered “getting your freak on,” then no. We have been getting our emotional freak on, I guess .
The emotional trust between Charlie and me is still growing, a small sapling I’ve been tending to on my own. It can grow into something sturdy, able to withstand time and storms, but only if she chooses to nurture it, too.
“I see all,” Vivian says ominously, zooming in and out on the camera. “I am everywhere and nowhere, all at once.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I saw you kiss her forehead after breakfast this morning.”
“And?”
“You only kiss the forehead of someone you’re fucking or in love with, so which is it?” She doesn’t look away from the control board, focused on her task while she interrogates me. I should have kept Jett around as a buffer.
“No comment.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“Some have referred to me as the mighty ruler of hell,” I say offhandedly, my thoughts pulling to the blonde waiting for me in bed.
“Who? They seem like they know what they’re talking about.”
I pause, then say, “Charlie.”
“Atta girl,” she says, laughing as she begins the ascent back to the surface.
We’re halfway there when her arm whips out and collides with my chest. She pulls back a few inches, only to hit me again.
The air whooshes from my lungs, from her attack and from the onyx-black fish hovering in the water column. Sharp teeth protrude from its lower jaw, and as we move closer, its flesh turns to a mottled brown. A light glows from the end of the lure extending from its head.
She snaps photos and adjusts camera angles as the ROV moves closer to the deep-sea anglerfish.
A small squeal escapes from me when a lump appears at its side .
“There’s a male!” I point to the mass. “They attach to the female before mating.”
We stare at the marvelous creature, and I snap a few photos to show Charlie in the morning. She’s going to be pissed she missed the sighting. Shit, so will Jett.
It’s too late to get him now. The creature moves on, passing the ROV, and Vivian radios to the main deck after shutting down the cameras.
I busy myself while she works, reading through text messages I’ve ignored while in the lab or identifying species.
Oliver: I have to go back to England early.
Family is having another meltdown. Apparently, it can only be solved with my presence.
The tragic life of a duke.
I hate the title. I would give it up if they would leave me alone.
I mean, you have a castle. Pros and cons. How’s Fergus? Is he alive?
He’s alive.
Send proof of life.
This isn’t a hostage situation.
A photo pops up of my beautiful, not-finicky fern perched atop his plant stand, basking in the final rays of sun for the day. It’s a beautiful photo, minus the large middle finger sticking up on its own.
Rude.
Amy said she would take care of Fergus for you. Her exact words were “I’d love him like he was the offspring of my womb.”
That’s the energy I expect every time I ask you to plant sit. Tell her thank you.
Will do. How’s the boat? Tell Charlie you’re head over heels for her?
Actually, yes.
Wait, what?
Seriously?
She told me I smell like a summer breeze.
What does that even mean?
I don’t know, but I love it.
*you love her.
You and Amy have gotten close.
I see what you’re doing.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Amy is making it difficult to leave.
So stay.
You know I can’t.
Just wanted to let you know Fergus will be well cared for.
I expect a full update when you’re off the boat.
Oh, and next time, you’re visiting London.
Deal.
“Why are you smiling at your phone?” Vivian asks, “Did Charlie text you?”
Her question is teasing, but she’s cut off from adding any more when Shaun radios that the ROV is being pulled from the water and she can release controls. She sighs in relief, shutting down different functions before disabling access and collecting her things.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Vivian,” I say, ignoring her comment.
I’m ready to slip into bed beside Charlie and pull her against my chest to feel her heartbeat—a slow and steady rhythm singing me to sleep .
I’m halfway out the door when Vivian calls out, “Have you always known?”
“What?”
“About Charlie.” She doesn’t elaborate, but her meaning is weaved between words.
“She’s far rarer than any species we’ll see on this trip. So, to answer your question, yes. I’ve never had a doubt about Charlie.”
It’s hard to live your life by absolutes. The world is complicated—messy and ever-changing. But she is my one absolute; my heart begins and ends with her.