The Decameron 2.0

Day 2.5 Betrayal - LA LUNA E IL SOLE - MikaelaBender

The water rushes by, churning in swirls and spirals below us. Aaleahya slides an arm over my shoulder while I stare at the reflection of the moon. I reach up and interlace my fingers with hers. There's something so serene about the beginning of our night. Something so warm in her touch. I want this moment to go down in history like a vintage photograph.

She leans over the railing of the ship, her hand gliding along the alabaster wood, her lips hovering near my ear. "I need to get ready for dinner. I'll see you in a few, London." For a brief moment nothing happens yet everything is—the anticipation, tightening and stretching—the ache in my arms to draw her closer. . . Her lips press against my cheek and like the wind blowing through the deck of the ship, she's gone.

Sighing, I reach into my pocket and pull out the black leather box. I flick it open, examining the rose gold banded, diamond studded ring. Months ago I purchased two tickets on the Pearl of the Seas to celebrate our graduation from college and the rest of our lives together, starting right after I propose at dinner tonight. I worked it out with the cruise ship to have a private table rather than one with the assigned group of random passengers. I pocket the ring before heading to the restaurant early to prepare for the start of the final piece in my life.

"More water, sir?" the waiter asks.

I look up from the green tablecloth and at the garden terrace around me. Not that I am outside, only the restaurant was designed to give the feel of perpetual day, perpetual waiting for the sun to sink. "I think I'll have that wine you offered earlier."

"Very good."

I watch the blood like liquid fall into the crystal glass like a vampire weary yet needful of blood. I sip it slowly, intermittently feeling the unopened box in my pocket. Girls usually take a long time to get ready. We don't have cell service so she can't text me or call me. She'll show up. She may have been late to classes sometimes, but she never missed one unless her reason was she'd give the class a deadly disease. Any other disease didn't matter.

How long do I give her? Do I wait here all night? She is the girl of my dreams, the love of my life, my soulmate. What kind of person would I be to not wait?

The wine tediously drains and then refills and again empties.

"Sir, this is the last chance we can offer to place your order before we close."

I stare at the inside of the empty glass, spotted with red drops here and there. If I order something, I'll at least give her a few more minutes to show up. "I'll just take the shepherd's pie."

He doesn't bother scribbling the order down on a notepad. I'm his last order. The rest of the emptying dining room has already ordered and ate. "It will be out in a few minutes."

Great. I would have preferred hearing in an hour.

I take my time with the food when it comes. I finish it far too quickly and have no choice but to take my leave. Feeling a little tipsy, I stop by Aaleahya's cabin. She doesn't answer when I knock. I press my ear against the door, thinking she's sick and she's throwing up in the bathroom. I hear only the hum of the air conditioner.

Scratching my head, I make my way to my cabin on the deck above hers and crash onto my bed. I'm not sure how long I lie there, staring up at the ceiling before I pull myself to my feet and stumble up to the upper deck where the pools are located. The cold breeze startles me sober. Tonight did not go as planned. My life did not begin. I was so ready. Above me the moon fights its way through the clouds, something the hidden stars are not able to accomplish.

I pass a woman with earbuds slipped in her ears and eyes shut on a lounge chair without her ever noticing. The lull of sleep is strong, the darkness and breeze a perfect mixture leading to drowsiness. The pool glows an eerie blue.

I let out a yawn. Maybe she really is sick and knocked herself out with cold meds. Maybe she suddenly started to throw up, and that's why she couldn't even stop by the restaurant to tell me. Sea sickness is common on cruise ships. There are still four more nights for me to ask her. We have time for our future to start.

I slip into the eighteen and up area of the empty deck, and it takes me a few seconds to differentiate the splashing I hear to not be the sounds of the water splashing against the sides of the ship. In front of me is a divider, a gray wall separating the two hot tubs. The one on my side is empty. I hear the trickle of water and I round the corner. In the hot tub a couple is making out. I divert my eyes, trying to pass by them as inconspicuously as possible.

Something in my mind clicks and I pause feet from the door. A cold chill runs over me as I look back. The girl is a blonde. Her face is turned away from me, as it's pressed against the guy's. Her blonde hair is wet, but that doesn't matter. I've seen it wet hundreds of times. Aaleahya. My soulmate. My girlfriend of two and a half years in a hot tub with another man on the night I was going to propose.

I have to be sure though.

She runs her lips up his throat.

No, I don't.

Her hands run down his chest that's dripping wet and he groans.

Yes, I do.

"Aaleahya."

It's like my voice is a rubber band snapping her away from the man.

She leans against the wall of the tub, facing me. Her swimsuit top is riding up over one of her breasts. "London."

I feel tears in my eyes as the future I had planned shatters.

"London, baby." She glides through the water, reaching her hand out to me.

I step back. "I can't do this right now."

"London."

The man runs a hand through his brunette hair and curses. "Who is this?"

"Her boyfriend." The words taste sour on my tongue.

I have to get out of here. I push open the doors leading inside and try to find my way to my room from the other side of the ship. Air doesn't come easily, and I gasp, grasping my chest. I press the down arrow on the elevator repeatedly. When the doors ding, I stumble inside, pressing all the buttons that have the potential to get me to my floor the fastest. I hold the close button the entire time so no other late night stragglers can get on. The gold hand ticks down from eighteen to seventeen and so on, not going nearly fast enough. The box closes in on me.

I need to get out.

About to pass the tenth floor, I slam my palm against the eight button and the elevator comes to a slow halt, the doors opening with a chime.

Screw chimes.

I stagger forward, gasping in the air of the narrow hallway, but I only become even more claustrophobic. I push myself forward, down the tightening hallway and heave my weight against the glass door at the end. The door gives and the sea air slaps me. I gulp it in, reaching out for the handrail. With slowing, deep breaths, I stare down that whirlpool like black ink. It's like it's sucking away my future.

She was my life for over two years. She would just throw everything away? Like that? On some. . . some. . . random bloke? She was going to be my bride and I her groom. I was going to give her her fairy tale ending.

The ring box presses against my outer thigh like an awkward lump. I pull it out, prepared to toss it into the churning waves, letting them suck it away like everything else. I raise my arm and sling it forward, but still I grasp onto the box. The ring may be a horrible reminder but it would still be fifteen hundred dollars down the drain.

I turn so my back leans against the railing. I run my fingers over the box in a petting motion. Let her and him drown. Let them choke on each other. I'll keep this ring—as a reminder, an expensive reminder, to be cautious. To tread carefully. Be picky.

One day I will find the girl of my dreams, but it will never be a sun like Aaleahya, someone so extroverted, so out there and forward. No. I'm going to find my moon, my true soulmate.

After all, the sun and the moon were never meant to be.