The large ferry balanced delicately on the water's surface. It bobbed with every gentle wave of the ocean. Beside it, a long queue had formed on the dock. The park visitors couldn't have been more eager to leave the island behind and never glance back. A few, however, were more reluctant to leave this place that they had called home for quite some time.
Claire stared somberly at the vast horizon line, realizing that this would be the first time in years that she would set foot beyond the island. She chewed on the inside of her cheek to prevent the tears in her eyes from cascading down. As the line inched forward, she was being brought farther and farther from a past of security and order. And closer and closer to a future of uncertainty and hardship.
"Stop stressing, Claire. Just don't think about it anymore."
A steady voice startled her for a moment and she turned around sharply.
"I'm not stressing," Claire whispered, despite the fact that she was shaking uncontrollably. Why does he have to keep bringing it up? Why can't he leave me alone? Why does it matter to him whether I'm stressing or not? Why?
Owen sighed and closed the small gap between them. "I really need you to relax. Please, Claire."
Claire squeezed her eyes shut ashamedly. He's the sweetest, the kind of sweet that I don't even deserve. She suddenly felt the stupid urge to cry. A single tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. Claire felt Owen wipe it tenderly away with his calloused thumb. I don't want to leave, but I know I have to. There's no other way around this mess. But I don't want to.
Whether she wanted to leave or not, Claire didn't have much of a choice. Karen and Scott had booked a room in a hotel on a nearby island. Their plan was to stay there for a few nights and recuperate before taking the plane back to Wisconsin, where they lived. Being the protective sister that she was, Karen had insisted that Claire (and Owen, of course) hitched a ride with them to the island and later to Wisconsin, where the new couple could "start their lives anew," as Karen put it.
Claire followed Karen and the rest of her family into the ferry, passing rows and rows full of battered visitors. Luckily, none of them recognized her as the Senior Assets Manager. She noticed, however, with a small smile, that Owen never let go of her waist until she sat down tiredly in one of the four-by-four seats. The two boys and Scott plopped down in the row just in front of her, followed by Karen.
"Claire, we'll be in the row in front of you, okay?" Karen informed her sister as she set down her purse.
Claire nodded and glanced drowsily at her sister. She was surprised to see the concern written on her face.
"Try to get some sleep, sweetie," Karen whispered. "You look exhausted. Do you need anything?"
"Don't worry; I'll take care her. She'll be fine after some rest," Owen reassured the older sister when Claire didn't answer. Karen nodded gratefully before turning around to minister to her boys' injuries.
Claire settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. The rocking of the boat was making her feel sickeningly queasy, but she decided not to comment on it out of fear of alarming everyone around her. She despised it when people fussed over her as if she were some irresponsible young toddler. I'm a damn adult; I can handle these kinds of things by myself. But then, I couldn't handle the park... Oh, God.
Owen wrapped an arm around Claire's shoulder and gently adjusted the blanket. She shifted sleepily so that her face was buried in his chest. Never mind the heavy stench of sweat or the metallic odors of blood that were radiating off of him. He made her feel rather safe. While in his arms, she was able to let out a long sigh and calm her heart for a brief minute. But her head hurt and her stomach felt strange, and she couldn't properly relax.
Suddenly, the ferry lurched forward as it started its journey back to the other island. Claire swallowed a cry. The complimentary cookies she had eaten half a hour ago sloshed in her stomach, threatening to explode out like lava from a volcano. Her head spun madly, and when she attempted to steady herself by gripping onto the armrests, Claire realized that her hands were sweaty and cold as ice.
"Owen," she murmured. "Owen... I'm about to... please..." Please, hold it in, Claire. Hold it in. I can't puke here. Certainly not here in front of everyone.
Owen, who had been checking out the available hotel rooms and the flights to Wisconsin, immediately put his phone away. His heart dropped when he saw Claire's pale, tear-streaked face.
"What's wrong? What do you need me to do?" he asked, his voice troubled.
Claire mumbled a few incoherent words. The boat careened forward once more and she clenched her fingers around the armrests.
"Claire, you need to breathe. What's wrong?" Owen said as calmly as he could.
"Owen... I think I'm... I need to go..." She gestured at the door leading outside to the deck. Instantly, Owen understood. Oh, God. She's seasick. Claire's seasick.
"Okay, okay... uh... it's alright. Breathe. Hold onto me, Claire. Don't open your mouth. Just hold on."
Owen lifted her onto her feet and guided her out of the row of seats. Gray turned around and leaped to his feet with wide eyes. Zach also got up abruptly when he caught sight of his aunt. Both kids began to squeeze past their parents, who were equally as concerned. But Owen shook his head at them.
"What's going on?" Karen whispered loudly. "Is she alright?"
Owen nodded and pressed a soft kiss to Claire's head. "Seasick," he mouthed.
Karen felt a wave of tears surface as she witnessed the affection. She motioned for Zach and Gray to sit, keeping her eyes on her sister as Owen led her away. He seems like such a sweetheart. I don't have to worry about Claire as long as she has that guy. Thank the Lord- she has finally found someone. And I can tell that he really cares for her.
Owen ushered Claire out onto the deck, grateful that no one shot them any curious stares. Steering her toward the balcony, he was careful not to trip her with his own shoes. He leaned her against the rail and pressed his body snugly behind her, feeling her shudder under him.
"It's alright, Claire. We're alone. Let it all out. I'm right here, right behind you," he said quietly.
Claire nodded faintly. She felt Owen brush her hair away from her face and hold it out of the way. But as she stared at the horizon line once more, as she relished the warmth of Owen's body against hers, the urge to puke slowly disintegrated. Instead, it was replaced with an indescribable compulsion to cry. To cry about the destruction of the park, of her home. To cry about the destruction of her role as the Senior Assets Manager, of who she had once been.
"Let it all out," Owen had said. So she did.
"I'm right here," he had said. And he was.
Claire's tears dropped into the ocean, forever lost in the vast body of water. They almost seemed to pollute the waters with their strong tang of grief and pain. Owen kissed her neck repeatedly, his hands rubbing her arms before moving to her front. He could feel the coldness of her skin through her thin tank top.
When Claire's painfully breathless sobs gradually subsided into small gasps, she was able to hear a soft, rhythmic sound. Owen was humming a casual tune and tapping the beat on her stomach. She tilted her head back until it rested against his chest. There, she could feel the vibration of his deep voice.
"What song is that?" she murmured.
"My song," Owen said simply. He sighed in relief when he heard her voice. It was unsteady, wavering. He longed to take away all her pain, even if it meant doubling his, because watching Claire cry her heart out hurt him more than anything else had in his life.
"Who sang it?" Claire whispered, desperately needing to hear his voice.
"I did."
"What...?"
Owen let out a chuckle. "It's not a real song, Claire. I made it up because I couldn't think of anything else to do for you. So that makes it my song."
Claire felt a rush of emotion when she heard this. He made a freaking song for me. He actually cares about me. He cares. Her eyes watered just as a thought popped into her mind. Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind and she turned sharply to face him.
"I asked you this before, but I never heard your answer," she began, her voice suddenly trembling and laced with accusation. "Why are you doing this for me? Why do you care about me?"
Owen furrowed his brow and sighed. He really didn't want to speak about it. "Claire..."
"No. I need an answer. I need something," she said. Her voice was strangled. I need to know what's happening between us. I need to know if it will last.
"Don't you remember what I told you before I left with my raptors to hunt the Indominus?"
Claire studies his face for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I do. You think I could forget ever forget that?"
"Yeah, so that's basically it. There's nothing else for me to say."
"But why?" Claire stressed. "Why are you doing this for me?"
Owen was silent for a long time. Seconds ticked by on his watch, each second an agony for Claire. What is he thinking? What does he want to tell me? He's not about to change his mind, is he?
Finally, Owen spoke, and when he did, his voice sounded faraway.
"Do you know how much you mean to me, Claire?"
Her breath caught. "What?"
Owen sighed. "Yeah, Dearing. You heard me right."
Claire shifted so that her back was against the railing of the balcony. She brought her face close to Owen's and gazed into his green eyes.
"Claire, I'm not someone who talks openly about his feelings, especially his feelings for other people-"
"I'm not either," Claire interrupted. Owen placed a finger to her lips.
"But I'll admit this much: I don't think... I don't think that I've ever cared about someone as much as I care about you now. And I realized it today... during all those times we nearly lost each other. During all those times I saw another side of you. A side that I really, really like."
Claire opened her mouth again but Owen shook his head to quiet her.
"I don't know why I care so deeply. I don't know where this is going for both of us. And I don't know what I'm even doing. Don't bother asking. I don't have the answers," Owen finished tiredly.
"Your raptors. Don't you care about them, too? And you're-you're leaving them behind...". Claire whispered.
"I raised them, Claire. 'Course I care about them."
"And yet you're leaving them. Because of me," she sobbed.
Owen was taken aback. "I chose to leave them. I chose to leave them because I couldn't bear to leave you, okay?" He rubbed her back soothingly.
Claire nodded and swiped at her tears.
"We're sticking together," Owen said determinedly. "We're going to stick together."
"Are you asking me out?" Claire's heart thudded rapidly. He's asking me out. He's asking me out. He's asking me out.
"Depends. Would you say yes?"
"Well... I mean, yes, Owen. Yes, I would."
Claire sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. Oh, my God! He just asked me out. And I said yes. It's official. Oh, it's actually official now. I feel like a high school girl who was just asked to homecoming by this super hot guy... this guy whom she has a major crush on.
"Alright then. So it's decided. We're sticking together." Owen couldn't resist his grin. She said yes. She actually said yes.
Claire managed a smile. "We're sticking together for survival?" she whispered.
Owen smiled back. "For something much greater than that."
"But isn't survival the key to everything?" Claire teased. "What could be more important than survival?"
Owen rolled his eyes. He stared intently into Claire's swollen yet beautiful eyes. "I know something much greater than survival."
Claire leaned into his chest and buried her face into the folds of his shirt. "Prove it then."
"I don't need to. You've proven it already."
................................................................
Love.
The waves lapped gently around the ferry, pushing toward the horizon line. Peeking out from a blanket of hazy clouds, the sun shone radiantly against the blue sky. And looking out past the ocean's waters, Claire wondered silently where this new path would take her.
Love.
She had never been in love. She had never experienced a love quite like this. She had never been ready to embrace love with open arms, the way she embraced Owen.
Love.
In perfect fairytales, all it took was one glance, one word, one kiss, for a princess to fall in love with a prince.
In real life, sometimes it merely took one act of kindness, one deed of courage, one word of compassion.
Love.
Sometimes, the first time was enough for a heart to be claimed. Sometimes, the first time was enough for love to emerge. Sometimes, the first time was enough for the dangling charm of love to be snatched. Sometimes, the first time was the charm.
And sometimes, the second time was the charm.
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And that's that.
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