Undertow (28 page)

Then Viggy returned.

“Now, Miss Aesa, what do you need to get off your chest? I'd be lying if I said you always looked happy when you came in here, but I also know it reminds you of home and your father. That's understandable, but today—this,” he said, indicating my tear-stained face that had clearly betrayed me. “This is something entirely different. You don't strike me as a crier, girl. What has gotten to you so badly today?”

When I forced myself to meet his kind eyes, I tried to think of all the ways I could tell him that I'd potentially ruined my life and broken someone else's in the process. I couldn't even fully make sense of why I ran from Decker when I saw him there. I had never expected him to come after me. Nobody ever had before. When I left, I left. That was it. I assumed that when he returned from sea and found out that I had abandoned him like he'd meant nothing to me, the last thing he would have wanted to do was come looking for me. I should have known that it wouldn't be so easy to walk away.

“When my father's boat sank,” I started with a sigh, thinking it would be best to start from nearer to the beginning of the story. “I had been dating one of his crew.” Viggy's eyes widened, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. “My dad knew. He approved, I promise. But when the boat sank, I was at the hospital. I told you that before. I saw the survivors come in. What I didn't tell you was that the man I'd been seeing, Decker, was the last one to arrive, and he was in bad shape. I freaked out. He was so broken—I didn't even know if he would make it.”

“And did he?” he asked, taking my hand in his as I struggled to tell him the story.

“He did, but it was a fight for a while there. I spent every moment I could in his room. When he came out of the coma, I was so scared. I had no idea what state he would be in, if he would be his old self, or if he would even remember me. I spent those next weeks watching him heal at a rate that I thought was impossible. It wasn't long before he was almost fully back to normal, barring some of his physical injuries, of which there were many.”

“Well, that's great, Aesa,” he said with a slight pause. “But that doesn't explain why you're sitting in here, looking like someone just ran over your dog.”

“Once Decker was released from the hospital, I thought he and I could maybe start anew—do something else. You know, start over? There was nothing tying me to that place any longer, and I thought for sure that he would want to move on as well. Two near-death experiences on the Bering Sea is two too many. I knew that he'd never survive a third. Nobody is that lucky.”

“And he didn't . . . ” It wasn't a question. He was starting to see where I was going.

“No. He wanted to go back out for Opilio season. He said that crabbing had changed his life, that he couldn't walk away from it.”

“And he went.”

I nodded.

“I was devastated. I'd lost too much to that fucking sea. I couldn't sit around, tethered to someone else I loved, and wait for them to drown, dragging me down with them. I just couldn't.”

“So you told him this?”

I dropped my gaze.

“Not exactly,” I whispered. “When he left, I put in for the position out here. I needed to get away before I lost my mind. I was still mourning my dad. I couldn't bear the thought of any more pain.”

“So you ran from it instead?”

“Yes.”

“And my guess is that it's caught up with you now, hasn't it?”

“Yes. Decker came to the hospital tonight. I don't know how he found me—”

“He found you because he loves you, Aesa. Only a man possessed by love would do that. Anyone else would have just shrugged it off and walked away.”

“Like I did.”

“That's not what I'm saying, girl,” he said softly, giving my hand a light squeeze. “You've lost so much already. Everyone in here understands that feeling. You'll find no judgment about your actions here, but you have to learn to cope at some point, Aesa, or it will eat you alive. This Decker kid flew across the country to try and find you. Don't you think you should have given him a chance?”

I shrugged.

“It's a little late for that now, isn't it? He's gone, I'm sure.”

As if on cue, a cold breeze fell on my neck as the door to the bar opened. Viggy's eyes drifted from mine to welcome the incoming patron. When he didn't, my body tensed.

“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” he replied, still looking off toward the entrance.

“Aesa,” Decker's voice called, irritation lacing his tone heavily. “We need to talk.”

Viggy looked back down at me, giving one final squeeze of my hand before he released it. “Give him a chance, girl. You can't blame someone for wanting to be who they are or doing what they're called to do. You love him. Hear him out.”

I turned to find Decker hovering just inside the entrance, his heavy hooded sweatshirt covered by an equally heavy wool coat. He looked every bit the fisherman he was. The very reason why I left.

“I'm not sure we need to do this here,” I started, coming to stand from my barstool slowly.

“I don't care where we do this, but it's going to be done. You're going to tell me what in the hell is going on,” he informed me, his voice still angry. “You can start by explaining why I had to chase you down at the hospital only to find you here.” I'd never seen him mad before, and it was intimidating, to say the least. It was worse knowing that I was the cause. “Tell me why you ran.”

When I didn't answer immediately, he stalked toward me, the hurt and anger still plain on his face. The sound of chairs grating across the old hardwood floor echoed behind me. The boys thought I was in danger. I turned to see five of them hovering by their tables, their eyes planted firmly on Decker.

“It's all right,” I told them, hoping to ease the tension. None of them returned to their seats.

“You told me you would be waiting for me when I came back. Funny how you never mentioned anything about waiting for me on the East Coast.”

“I had to go,” I replied softly. He was right to be angry with me. I had done a cowardly thing, taking the easiest way out. I had hoped to avoid the very thing I was now embroiled in. A love battle royale.

“Why?” he asked, his tone softening ever so slightly.

“Because I can't do this,” I told him, waving my hand between him and me. “I can't do this anymore.”

“Yeah, I got that. What I want to know is why.”

“That's not my life. Not anymore. Too much has changed. I need to start over.”

“You mean you need to run.”

“If that's what you want to call it,” I said, throwing my hands up, my own frustration starting to set in. All I wanted was for him to go away so I could go back to being alone—the only thing that never hurt me.

“What would you call it, Aesa? You packed up and fled to another part of the country without telling anyone where you were going. You shut your phone down, lost all contact with anyone who cares about you. What should I call that instead?”

“Starting over.”

“Don't do this, Aesa,” he said, reaching for my arm. “Don't do this to yourself again.”

“Don't do what makes me happy? Is that what you're saying? Isn't that what you chose to do? What made you happy?” I countered, my own anger showing through. “You'd rather I be miserable, waiting for a call one night that tells me that the unthinkable has happened, that you're dead, wouldn't you? You'd rather I do that than have a sliver of a chance at a life without pain? No thanks. I'll pass.”

“But that's not going to happen—”

“You can't promise that!” I shouted, leaning into his face. “And you certainly can't promise that to me of all people.”

I snatched my arm away from his grasp, storming toward the door.

“Nobody can promise you that they'll be around tomorrow. You'll never find that, no matter where or how hard you look.”

“That's why I'm not looking,” I retorted, turning to see him coming after me.

“I told you once that I would never let you fall, Aesa,” he said calmly, looking far more like the man I'd grown to love. “And you're falling. You just don't see it.”

“No. You're wrong,” I snapped, shaking my head as I stepped back toward the exit. “I've already fallen. You just don't
want
to see it.”

With that, I grabbed the handle behind me and wrenched the door open, spilling out into the narrow street. Anxiety built as I ran to my car. I needed room. I needed to be alone, but Decker wasn't allowing that. He'd come to make a stand, and he was determined to make it.

“Aesa!” he yelled after me, chasing me down in the street. He caught my arm before I could enter my car and escape. “I have been flying for the past twelve hours and driving all around this God-forsaken city, trying to find you. And do you know why? Because I love you, and I know you love me. You'll never convince me otherwise. I know you, I know why you're doing this, but you can't run forever, Aesa. Love is not the enemy, unless you let it continue to be.”

“Decker,” I said in protest, my feelings welling up at an alarming pace.

“Say it, Aesa. I want you to say you don't love me. Make me believe you and I'll go, but I promise you, you can't.”

My eyes met his while they filled with tears, threatening to expose me for the insecure little girl I still was.

“I can't stand by and wait for you to die,” I yelled, choking on a sob. “I can't. Please don't ask me to.”

“Then don't ask me to walk away like that's even a remote possibility.”

“But you did! You did walk away! You walked back onto that boat like nothing had ever happened, and you left.”

“What would you have me do, Aesa?”

“Nothing,” I said calmly. “There's nothing you can do, and I can't do this.” I gave a solemn shrug while the tears fell from my face. “I was wrong to leave without telling you. I know that, but the outcome is the same after telling you in person. You don't want to give up the Bering Sea, and I can't ask you to, but I can't have anything to do with it. Not anymore. We are at the very definition of an impasse, Decker. You can't have it both ways, and neither can I.”

“No,” he agreed, surprising me. His brow furrowed as he further contemplated my words. “You're right. I can't. I see that now.”

The pit I felt in my stomach illustrated the hollowness I felt at his response. I'd told myself for weeks that I had left without confronting him because I knew he wouldn't let me leave, that it would be easier for him that way. What I'd been denying that entire time was that, if I'd had to stand before him and share my plans, I never would have left. Walking away from him was more than I could do.

Standing there, watching him prepare to do what I realized I couldn't, I felt like I was drowning. The irony was that I didn't deserve to be saved, nor would he be around to do it.

He would let me fall.

Without another word, he walked away from me back toward the bar. He didn't speak. He didn't look back. He just stormed back into the building in the same manner he had before, only that time, he was possessed by different motives.

“Decker!” I called after him, but he didn't flinch. The door closed slowly behind him, shutting me out. I wanted to run after him, but I couldn't make my feet move. He'd made his choice, and it wasn't me. I'd gotten exactly what I thought I'd wanted, and it made me nauseous. I slid down the side of my car to sit on the sidewalk, burying my head in my lap while I cried. When I left him, it didn't feel like a loss—it was a choice. Watching him walk away from me created a sense of emptiness and rejection that rivaled any I'd experienced before.

The cold eventually forced me to stand, shaky though I was, and make my way around my car to the driver's side. I couldn't stomach the idea of sitting around and waiting for his cab to come and pick him up, only to watch him disappear again, so I decided to leave. It was something I was apparently good at.

Just as I reached for the door handle, a voice called out to me from down the sidewalk.

“Not again,” Decker shouted against the assaulting wind coming off the harbor. “Never again.” He stalked toward me and I froze, uncertain of what was going on. Was he cruel enough or angry enough to toy with me before he inevitably left? “If you're going somewhere, then I'm going with you.”

“I don't—” I started, choking on a sob. “I don't understand. You just said you couldn't have it both ways and then you left. You made your choice. Why are you still here?”

I couldn't hold back another flood of tears from escaping.

“I can't have it both ways, Aesa, so I'm not going to try to anymore.”

Again, my heart sank.

“Are you just trying to get back at me? I don't understand what you're doing . . . ”

“Why do you think I just went back into the bar?” he asked, his tone controlled but still heated.

“To call a cab.”

He scoffed.

“I went back in there to see which of those guys knew of anyone willing to hire an ex-crab fisherman.” His words nearly floored me. “You're right. We can't have it both ways, but we can meet somewhere in the middle. It's clear that you can't bear to live the life you've always known. The life that haunts you. But it's also painfully clear that you can't fully walk away from it either.” My pained and confused expression begged for him to clarify his point, my nerves too shot to actually form a sentence. As always, he saw exactly what was wrong and took immediate measures to remedy it. “Aesa—you took a job on the seacoast. You hang out with a bunch of dirty, old lobster fishermen. You found the one place around this enormous city that could remind you of home, and somehow it manages to make you happy, whether you realize it or not. So I decided to split the difference between us, because being without you is not an option for me. I'm going to work here, on a lobster boat. I'm going to leave in the morning and come home at night. I'm not going to die in or on the Bering Sea. And I am not going to leave you any more than I'm going to let you leave me.”