24.

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When we get to the Bahamas, the skies are an orange hue. The calm ocean waves are flowing towards the shore of the beaches, and the tall Palm trees are slightly flowing with the humid wind. It's a breathtaking sight. It's like those vacation pictures you see all the time in calendars, but a hundred times better.  

The cruise ship is easily the biggest thing in sight as we approach the dock. I've never laid eyes on anything so huge in my life. It's incredible how such a massive vessel can even float on water.

The mass of cruisers are lining up to go in and my mother, her husband and I join in. They promised me my own room, way across the hallway from theirs which I am very grateful for.

As we wait, I get a text from Marco. We've been texting each other all morning about what happened the other day.

I told him what happened to the GPS, how it died on me, and then when I was pulling over the to side, one of his tires got sliced. He was absolutely horrified, repeatedly asking if I was okay. My health was fine, but his car was not. I called a tow truck service the following morning to pick it up.

With much deliberation, I even told him about Chris and when I did, he laughed right after my story.

I don't know why I cried so suddenly in front of Chris. I couldn't shed a tear for my best friend leaving the country yet I did in front of basically a stranger who's been detesting me all these years.

Except ... He didn't seem too out of line last night. He was actually civil. Maybe he's right. People change. 

But still....How did I let my guard down so easily? I'm the kind of person to over react easily, but I should have known better.

My mother gives me the card to my room on the deck once we pass check in. I reach for it but she quickly pulls away from my hand.

"Remember what I told you?" She asks as if I'm some forgetful child.

"Yes," I roll my eyes mentally. "I will not lock myself in my room the whole weekend."

"Very good," she says with a firm nod. My mother hands me the key card to my room with a tentative smile. "We'll be only down the hallway if you need anything," she reminds me for the millionth time.

Once the keys are in my possession, I watch her stalk away towards her husband who's waiting for her a few feet away. They both give me a wave goodbye and I passively wave back. I'm still annoyed that she brushed off my missed phone calls from last night. She didn't even bother asking.

As I find my way through the lobby, it's like a scene from a movie. The large crowd of people bustling to find their rooms, the children being pulled left and right by their parents worried that they might get lost.

When I find the number of my room, I grab my key card from the pocket of my sweats to slide it through the slide-y thingy. Opening the door reveals a magnificently furnitured room with gold and blue undertones. Everything in sight must at least be over...well over my income. I roll my suitcase over to the sliding glass doors and take in a deep breath, admiring the picturesque scenery. Finally, some peace and quiet.

If this can't put my mind at ease, what can?

"Excuse me," a deep voice says from behind me. I freeze in place, unsure of what to do. How did this person get inside my room? I don't move, directly letting the tension to rise. "How did you get into my room?"

"Your room?" I ask, turning my head to the side but not enough to make out the face of the man. He is definitely a man.

"Are you a stalker?" He asks.

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