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“And you are a very special woman, but in the morning, I need to leave. I need to leave this ship behind, and I need to leave you behind, too. I’m sorry.”
I tried to find the words. They were there. I could plead, beg, shout, cry. But I knew that look in her eyes. She’d already made up her mind, and I wasn't going to embarrass myself anymore by giving in to those emotions.
I stood slowly, taking a deep breath before I walked out of her suite and out of her life.
My world had turned the right way up, and it felt as if there was nothing left about it that I recognized.
12
Time is such a funny thing. On a ship, time works differently. We measure the days by events, schedules, food, and performances. Dates lose their meaning, and seasons pass like the tides.
But in my tiny bunker, just below sea level, land passing by on the horizon, it could have been any day. Any time. Any month. Any season. None of it mattered.
I didn't think I was a wallower. I absolutely didn't think I would be the kind of woman to not get out of bed for two days because of a breakup. But I couldn't face the world.
Urduja stepped up to be the ultimate wingwoman. She brought me chocolate and alcohol and covered for me with Fernanda.
The good thing about cruise life is the closed environment. If you’re sick, you are to stay in your cabin. No exceptions. Outbreaks of spreadable illnesses are bad for business, and so I took my two days to process my loss.
Relationships ending are a grief process. Two parts. You grieve what you had that’s gone, and you grieve for what you never got to have together. How long had I known Claudia? Well, time is a funny thing, isn't it? Those few weeks could have been my whole life. I gave her all I had—my body, my love, affection and soul.
Did time really matter? Not to me. She’d seen parts of me that I hid from myself, and she in turn had opened her box of memories that I doubted even she had flicked through in years. We were connected. We were real. Honest. And it was gone.
Six a.m. Another early wake-up call from the Captain’s announcements. It took me longer than it should to focus. I’d lost all sense of awareness. I’d been awake since just after 3 a.m. with my mind racing over and over. It’d been three days since Claudia had left the ship. Three days that had felt like three weeks or even three years.
I was still in shock from the callousness of her departure. Maybe that was just the anger talking. I knew the Ice Queen act wasn’t the real Claudia. It was a mask she wore to hide her feelings. But it didn't make it any easier, and as my thoughts spiralled, I found myself asking which was the true mask. Either way, my stomach ached as much as my chest, and being in a windowless cabin the size of a garden shed wasn’t helping.
I hadn’t been to work since she’d left, but today I was scheduled for a day off anyway, so I didn't feel guilty about leaving the ship. None of the crew ever wanted to stay on board when they didn't have to, even if the port of call wasn’t particularly interesting. Today, however, was Paris. Le Harve to be precise, a small coastal town two and a bit hours drive from Paris. The most romantic city in the world, supposedly, as if I needed this kick in the stomach.
I’d booked my coach ticket days ago—well, two tickets.
But Claudia wasn’t here to go with me, and who wanted to walk around Paris alone, not just alone but heartbroken and alone? A glutton for punishment, it would seem.
The fantasy I’d had since booking the tickets of what our day in Paris was going to be like was now completely and utterly shattered. How was I going to walk along the Seine holding hands with the woman I was in love with if the woman I was in love with wasn’t there?
But the truth was my sanctuary had become my prison, and I just couldn’t stay in this room any longer. And walking around the ship with guests asking questions or wanting me to stop for general chit-chat about their travels wasn’t on my list of things to do for the day, either.
Sometimes, there was no better feeling than sitting down in one of the ship's bars for a drink with an elderly couple as they showed you pictures of their grandkids, but I didn’t have the heart for that today.
I hopped in the shower, hoping a cold wash would help me make a decision. Besides, it was always harder to cry in the shower when your body could only focus on the fact that it was turning into an ice cube. And I was determined not to start my day with tears. But I did feel the numb. I felt the cold water grip my skin like my pain gripped my heart. I held my breath under the stream just so I could feel alive as I was forced to take deep, gasping breaths when my lungs screamed for relief.
I slipped into something I wouldn't usually be seen out in public in and was changed and ready just in time for the Cruise Director to announce that the coaches were ready for boarding. I took this as a sign. I knew I was grasping at straws, but it helped me get out the door.
I grabbed a coffee from the barista on my way out, and I didn't even have the energy to force a smile as I made my way through the ship’s security and onto the coach.
Two and a half hours is not a huge amount of time. In that time, you can watch a movie, listen to an album, or scroll through an endless amount of social media. But with my mind not focused, two and a half hours seemed like an excessive amount of time for a day trip I wasn’t even looking forward to. I watched the digital clock at the front of the coach take its sweet time to get through the numbers.
What the fuck was I doing?
Fortunately, since Claudia wasn’t there, the seat next to me was unoccupied, so I could at least mope in silence.
I stepped off the coach, setting a reminder on my phone of when to head back for the return journey. If I missed the final evening embarkment, I’d be in serious trouble, no matter what port I was in. So, I always had a plan in place to ensure I never ended up being one of those people frantically waving at their cruise ship to come back and pick them up while the captain sailed off into the horizon without a care in the world.
That was the last thing I needed right now, to be an American stranded in France.
I walked through the gardens toward the Eiffel Tower. I was genuinely trying to focus on the good, admire the beauty of this attraction and feel the awe of seeing it in real life. But how can you do that when men were trying to sell you repackaged tap water and keychains every three steps?!
Breathe, Raven. Breathe.
