The Explorer's Apprentice

46: Words That Kill

Arabelle D’Ewes

Arabelle finds Max walking on his rounds. She knows he’ll be here because she’s been watching him for an hour now, going in circles. Eventually, she has to move. She doesn’t want to—she wants to stay in the shadows forever, paralyzed by sadness—but she does. She picks up her broken mind and finds words.

“Max.” It comes out ugly, a croak.

He halts suddenly and spins around. For a minute she’s afraid this is the wrong person. “Belle?”

No. No, this is him. There’s no mistaking the red hair, and the freckles.

Nothing compared to Jack, Belle thinks, hot tears springing back into her eyes. She feels bad for comparing the two, but she can’t help it. Why can’t every boy have turquoise eyes and golden hair? Why can’t every boy be as beautiful as you, Jack?

Max’s smile fades as he comes closer. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Everything. “It’s just… Max, something horrible has happened.”

“What is it?”

“Jack—my sweetheart—well, I saw him and…”

“And what?”

Why, Jack? Why did you have to do this to me? Everything was going perfectly. I told you she didn’t want to see you, Jack. This is all your fault. I told you and you didn’t listen and now… “I was just going to see him, but he was down there, down at the front of the ship. And I saw him standing on the rail.”

“Oh my God!” Max’s voice is strained with urgency. “Did he fall, Belle?”

“No!” she chokes down a laugh, looking at his expression. “No nothing like that. But I saw him with… with my friend…”

“The friend that likes him?”

Belle nods. Her nails dig into her arms. She focuses on the little pinpoints of pain. I prefer this pain, this physical pain. It hurts so much less than the hurt I feels emotionally—much less than it hurt to be there, standing on the balcony as the sun set, with Jack no more than a few yards away. My Jack. You hear me Rose? My Jack.

She looks up at Max’s open, honest face. Could she really tell him everything? Could she really tell him now, tell him how she’s been lying this whole time, to him, to herself, to everyone?

“He was kissing her, Max.”

“Oh, no, Belle… I’m so sorry…”

Belle hugs him. Max goes stiff at first, surprised, but relaxes around her. “He doesn’t want me anymore, Max, what do I do?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

The truth is too painful. Belle starts to tell him the truth, about everything, about Rose and the dance and the lies and Jack—but it all sticks in her throat. She doesn’t want to give up the lies. The lies are easier, less painful. “I thought we had something!” she says. “I thought he was… the one. I thought we’d get married and find a place together. I thought we’d have a family and grow old together and be happy…”

That part, at least, is true.

“I’m sorry, Belle… It’ll be okay… You can always talk to me.”

Belle closes her eyes and pretends Max is Jack. She pretends the arms encircling her are Jack’s, and the voice is low and lyrical. Jack’s voice.

“Maybe you should confront him about it. I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Belle says quickly, burying her face in his shoulder. She’s mad at him for breaking the spell. “It’s over.”

“Are you sure?”

“He loves her.” Those three little words kill her. “It’s over.”