Chapter 1

James Callahan spent five years at sea as a Navy lieutenant, and I spent five years on shore, waiting.

He said warships were dangerous, conditions were rough, family couldn't come aboard.

So I kept our little home quiet, waiting for him to come back to port each time.

Even when I slipped and lost the baby, I bit my tongue and didn't disturb him.

Until the day I was cleaning and pulled a metal box out from under his pillow.

The moment I opened it, photographs scattered across the floor.

On top was a Family Cruise application form.

Applicant: Lily Sullivan—the younger sister of James's fallen brother-in-arms.

In the photo, Lily stood beside James, seagulls and the gray bow of a destroyer behind them, her smile brighter than a California sea breeze.

On the back, in James's handwriting:

"You are the lighthouse of my every voyage. —J."

I laughed.

I looked around our little home. Not a single picture of the two of us.

From that day on, I stopped going to Coronado.

Stopped sending texts that vanished into the void. Stopped reheating soup that nobody came home to drink.

The ship that had sailed in my heart for five years finally sank without a sound.

...

"Why didn't you come pick me up today?"

James pushed open the door just as I was sitting at the table peeling an orange, watching the weather forecast on TV.

Every time he came home before, come rain or shine, I'd have driven to the base two hours early.

"Been busy."

I popped a segment of orange into my mouth, answering offhand, then got up and walked into the kitchen.

He followed, trying to wrap his arms around my waist from behind.

Before, every time he did this, I'd turn around laughing, rise up on my toes, and put my arms around his neck.

But this time my body moved faster than my head—

I took a step to the left and slipped out of reach.

He didn't seem to notice. He went straight to his duffel bag.

"Long deployment this time. Didn't have time to grab anything nice."

"Picked up a silk scarf. Lily said women love that kind of thing."

The scarf was ocean blue. The tag was printed in Italian—Naples. He'd brought it back from the Mediterranean.

Something bitter rose in my chest.

He was always like this.

Made up for everything with a little gift, as if that made me part of every leg of his voyage. And then simply assumed I'd be waiting in the same place, next time.

"You don't like it?"

Seeing no delight on my face, he frowned.

"It's nice."

I smiled thinly.

His frown deepened. He tugged at the top button of his uniform collar.

"Emma, are you still upset I didn't bring you aboard?"

"I told you, wives aren't permitted on the ship."

His voice dropped, edged with irritation. "Why do you never listen? Not only did you not come pick me up today, you didn't even have a bowl of soup ready. And I brought you a present."

Listening to the accusation in his tone, I couldn't hold it in anymore. The words came out before I could stop them:

"Family can't come aboard, but Lily—an outsider—can go anywhere with you?"

He seemed to catch on then to my coldness. He sighed, adopting a put-upon expression.

"Come on. Lily's different from you. Her brother is dead. I promised I'd look after her."

"You're being childish. Nickel-and-diming about Lily all the time—we're married, don't be so petty."

So in his eyes, I was petty.

The strength went out of me. I didn't want to say another word.

Seeing my silence, he tried what he thought was kindness. "We'll drop it this time. I won't hold it against you. But don't sulk. Try to be a little bigger about this from now on."

He leaned in, casually, meaning to kiss me and put the argument to rest.

I raised a hand and pressed it lightly against his shoulder.

He froze.

"I'm tired, James."

He was silent for a few seconds, then patted my shoulder.

"All right. Get some rest."

"Mm." I stayed cold.

His phone rang.

The instant he answered, I heard a familiar female voice on the other end. "James! Something terrible—the souvenirs I bought on this cruise are gone!"

Lily.

Her voice sounded on the verge of tears.

"Don't panic! I'll be right there!" James responded instantly, already turning away.

"Lily's got an emergency. I'll head over. Back tonight!"

He didn't wait for my answer. He ran out the door.

I don't know how long I stood there before I dragged my numb body toward the study.

That was where James kept his charts.

He'd once pointed to the sea lanes on them and said he'd take me down every one.

I walked in.

The shelves held wind chimes of shells from Yokosuka, a wooden fishing boat model from Diego Garcia, blue and white pottery from Crete...

Five years. His ship had put in at ports in twelve countries.

I hadn't set foot even once in the base right down the road in San Diego.

I pulled the blue leather-bound logbook off the bottom shelf.

I'd given it to him two years ago for his birthday.

I flipped through it idly.

Strait of Hormuz, Gibraltar, Naples...

Nearly every place he'd been, nearly every page—Lily's name was there.

So she'd been sailing with him for a long time.

I was the only one kept in the dark.

I sat in the study until deep into the night.

Only then did footsteps sound outside the door.

James pushed it open and saw the logbook in my hands.

His expression shifted, just slightly, then smoothed back into place.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

I didn't answer.

He came over and put his arms around my waist, offering an easy explanation.

"Lily's sensitive, you know how she is. She's got nobody left in her family. After that first time on the ship, she kept asking to come again. I couldn't very well say no."

"Mm."

I looked down and put the logbook back where I'd found it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

An iMessage from Zoe:

The lawyer you had me ask about—military divorce specialist. He wants to know when you can meet.

I set the phone face-up on the desk. The screen was still lit.

James glanced down instinctively.

His breath stopped.