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“What are these things?” He thumps his index finger on the glass of an outer wall tank. “Why are they see through?”
“Those are Alabama cave shrimp,” Bryn excitedly answers and crosses over to him. “They’re only found in caves in that state and are on the endangered species list, which is one of the big deals of the institute.” Seeing her gaze glow has me gravitating closer. “We primarily focus our efforts on rehabilitation, rereleasing, and reproduction with minor focuses on conservation and behavioral observation.”
“This job suits you,” I sweetly compliment, encouraging Hurst to step away. “Much better than your last.”
“Why? Because you can’t see my tits?” She sasses on a touch of her top button. “I can change that if it would be more to your liking, Mr. Wilcox.”
“I would like for my girlfriend-”
“Ex.”
“-to have an actual conversation with me.”
“You mean like you had with her when you barged into her mom’s recovery room, called her a whore, and kicked her out as such?”
“I made a mistake.”
“In the ocean, mistakes can cost a creature its life.” The hurt in her expression is irrefutable. “Why should on land be any different?”
“Bryn-”
“Shall we proceed?” She lifelessly ushers a hand in the direction we should be taking. “There are plenty more exhibits to see.”
A silent nod in surrender is delivered alongside my lips pressing shut.
What did I expect?
When has she ever made anything that easy?
Passing by more creatures is accompanied by random rehearsed facts that are fascinating enough yet clearly don’t drive anything inside of her. Knowing what does is what leads to me insisting she take me to the private tank room where we shared our first photo.
To my surprise, the space is empty of others, a sight that has Hurst cleverly pretending to receive a phone call to grant us a moment of real privacy.
“Target feeding is what helps the creatures co-exist in this environment,” Bryn professionally explains, back to me. “This view is deeper than the others to give you a better view of those that linger there especially during the day, like Nana, the nurse shark.” She gently points to the area where the creature is lingering. “That’s her favorite spot.”
“And something tells me that despite how pissed at me you are, being in here is one of yours.”
“I like the view.”
“I do too.”
Her blue gaze glances over just in time to see me waggle my brow, an action that receives a small shake of the head and bite of her bottom lip.
“Nurse sharks aren’t aggressive, correct?”
“Not typically unless provoked.”
“Like you.”
At that, her body angles itself in my direction. “You didn’t provoke me, Mr. Wilcox. You attacked me.”
“I did.” Shoving down the lump in my throat precedes my apologizing. “And I’m sorry.” I force my shoulders to fall. Posture to soften. “So fucking sorry, Bryn. I should’ve never said anything that I did. I should’ve never accused you or Lauren or left without even discussing the situation.”
“Apology accepted.” She tips her head towards the door. “You’re free to go now.”
“Bryn-”
“No, thank you.” Her arms fold protectively across her chest. “I don’t want any more of your practiced politician’s forgiveness speech or your consolation prizes for being a fucking asshole or your scribbled trite thoughts on expensive stationary.”
