Chapter 2

The welcome banquet was at a hotel near the port. By the time I walked into the private dining room, it was already packed.

Declan was in uniform. Molly sat right next to him, draped in his crew jacket, his comms badge pinned to her chest.

I knew that badge.

Before his last deployment, I'd asked if I could keep one as a memento. He said shipboard equipment was strictly regulated — family members weren't allowed to take anything. So I didn't talk about it anymore.

But now... it hung on Molly's chest, like some kind of unspoken claim.

Declan spotted me and pointed to a seat by the door.

"Sit over there. The main table's all crew. It'd be awkward if you sat here."

Molly looked up with a little smile. "Oh, Bella's here! Declan, why don't you let her sit next to you? I can move to that seat."

She said the lines, but didn't budge an inch.

Declan muttered under his breath, "It doesn't matter where she sits."

I sat down by the door and quietly switched on the voice recorder in my bag.

The dinner hadn't been going long before the teasing started.

"Molly and Declan — best team on the ship. One films the ocean, the other connects it."

"Honestly, back when you two were together, we all said you were perfect for each other."

"Declan really takes care of Molly, huh? Signal's garbage out there, but her video calls never drop."

Declan just laughed it off. "Come on, knock it off."

He didn't look at me.

Molly ducked her head, the tips of her ears turning pink, like someone had touched on something she wasn't supposed to admit.

The food arrived. Declan picked the belly meat off the fish and placed it on Molly's plate.

"Stay away from the bony parts."

Then he swapped her iced drink for hot tea. "Your stomach's bad enough — why are you drinking something cold?"

I stared at the dressed crab in front of me.

He knew I had a weak stomach. He knew I couldn't handle too much seafood.

The first year we were dating, he used to call ahead to restaurants and ask them to prepare hot soup for me.

At which point, the person he remembered became Molly?

Molly picked up her glass and walked over to me.

"Bella, let me make a toast. Actually, I've been wanting to apologize to you. Declan gets so lonely out at sea. Sometimes I'd reach out just because I was worried the pressure was getting to him."

A few people chimed in right away.

"Izabella, you've gotta understand his job. The mental toll on a communications operator — most people can't even imagine."

"Don't take it personally, Izabella. Molly's an old friend, not some stranger."

"Declan's a good husband overall, right? You guys are young — don't blow this out of proportion."

I looked at their faces, one after another, all so matter-of-fact. I almost laughed out loud.

"31 video calls in one month. The shortest was forty minutes. Is that part of the job too?"

The room went dead silent.

Declan's face darkened. "Izabella. You really have to do this here? In front of all of them?"

Molly's eyes turned red instantly. "Izabella, you... you've got it wrong. I'm making a documentary — I needed to understand conditions on the ship. Declan was just helping me verify technical details..."

I pulled out my phone and lit up the screen. "'Verifying technical details' requires singing 'Happy Birthday' at two in the morning?"

Molly's composure cracked for a split second before softening again. "I was in a really dark place that night. He was afraid something might happen to me."

Declan jumped in. "Izzy, Molly really was struggling last year. I couldn't just watch my friend fall apart."

My friend.

Those two words were like the ultimate cover-up.

I didn't push it further. I set my teacup down.

The mood was ruined. No one cracked another joke at my expense for the rest of the night. Declan glanced over at me several times, his eyes full of irritation.

Halfway through, I went to the restroom. Molly followed.

She stood in front of the mirror reapplying lipstick, a faint smile on her lips.

"You're recording, aren't you, Izabella?"

I didn't deny it.

She twisted the cap back on. "You really don't need to be this guarded around me. If Declan actually cared about you, nothing I said would matter."

I turned on the faucet. Water ran over my fingers.

"You know, he always reaches out to me first when he's at sea."

"The stars, the storms, when they're pulling into port — I always know before you do."

The water kept on running.

"You know he's married."

Molly looked at me through the mirror. "I do. That's why I never made a move. He's the one who can't let go."

She pulled out her phone. On the screen was a screenshot.

[She stopped messaging. Peace and quiet.]

The date was the exact day I stopped sending him a single period.

Molly's voice dropped low. "Izabella, the thing men fear most isn't a woman who makes a scene. It's a woman with nothing to offer who still won't withdraw gracefully."

I dried my hands.

"Save that line for court."

When I walked out, Declan was standing at the end of the hallway, waiting.

He looked at me, visibly annoyed. "The second you show up, everyone's uncomfortable. Izabella, can you please stop dragging our personal problems into public?"

I looked up at him.

"I'm going to my parents' tomorrow."

His brow furrowed tight, his eyes full of impatience.

"I barely have any days off. How long are you going to keep this up?"

I walked past him toward the dining room.

The red light on the recorder was still on.