Waiting For Ships

22 - Joe

"Billie... I need to talk to you."

I heard the words but couldn't believe they were coming from me. My heart pounded in the dark, loud enough for Billie to hear.

She rolled over, lying on her stomach and looking into my face. Even in the dark, I could see her fear. I looked away, keeping my eyes on the back wall.

"You probably noticed there was something going on at dinner. I just wanted to explain..."

"Okay..."

"My parents... They came back early because they wanted to tell us... They wanted to tell me and Gracie..."

I cleared my throat, my courage slipping.

"Joe." She put her hand on my arm, bringing me back to her. I sat up, brushing her hair from her face.

"Sorry. It's hard for me to say it."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I know."

Silence fell again. I smiled at her, hoping she'd understand the apology.

"Are you... are you changing your mind? " she asked, her eyes wide. "About me?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, taking her hand away. "I thought maybe it was too intense. Me being with your family."

"No, no," I said, overcome with sadness. "It's not that."

"Then, what?"

I took a deep breath.

"They want us to go with them. When they go abroad. For a year."

There was a pause. When Billie spoke again, her voice was quiet.

"But.. what about school?"

"Apparently, I can get a tutor. I can come back and take my exams next summer."

I felt her body stiffen beside me. She looked down, hiding her face with her hair.

"So, you're going to go?"

"I don't think I have a choice. They've never left for a whole year before. And, you know... We've missed out on a lot of time together."

She nodded, her eyes twinkling in the dark.

"When...?"

"Three weeks. Laurel's going to come by and look after the house while we're gone..."

"Three weeks."

"Yeah." I nodded, trying to make sense of it. "Three weeks."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice hoarse. "Why did you invite me to meet your parents if you're leaving?"

"I don't know... they wanted to meet you. And... I wanted to see you, too."

She came towards me, resting her forehead on my shoulder. I stroked her head, looking at the bare skin of her back, the ridges in her spine. It took everything in me not to roll over and kiss her, erasing the pain with our bodies.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

She sat up straight, pulling the covers over her chest. There was panic on her face, her eyes searching frantically in the darkness.

"Where's my phone?" she said, hunting on the floor.

"Here," I said, finding it at the bottom of the bed.

She took it from me, illuminating her face with the screen.

"You know, it's not that late," she said. "I could probably still get my mum to come and get me."

"What?"

"I feel like I should go," she said, her voice straining. "I just... I don't feel like I should be here."

"What? Why?"

"What's the point?" she said, swinging her legs out of the bed. "What's the point of staying? You're leaving..."

"Billie, don't go."

"It's just going to make it harder. It's only been a couple of weeks and you're going for a year. A whole year."

"Billie, I don't want you to go."

"If I can just find my stuff, I'll call my mum and I'll go home. You've probably got a lot of family stuff going on and I-"

"Billie, stay. Please. Please stay."

The words pierce the air between us, full of desperation and pain. A lightning bolt in the dark.

She stopped, sinking back into the bed like her body was crumpling. She lay on her back, looking up at me in despair. Her mouth moved but no words came. I knew what she was feeling. I knew this was triggering a particular pain she'd experienced before. Abandonment. Left alone again. I would have done anything to make it better.

There were no words left, so I kissed her, murmuring my apologies into her hair, and soon we were numbing each other with our mouths, with our hands. We were sharing the same agony, our passion made more intense by the underlying hurt. At that moment, we were the only two people in the world who understood each other. It was bringing us closer. Tangling us up. The knots were growing tighter. I knew it would hurt us more to let it happen, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't care when it felt so good to be with her.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, she put her hand round my neck, pulling me close as she spoke into my ear.

"I'll wait for you," she said. "I'll wait."

And suddenly I was back on the beach, the waves rushing in, salt stinging my eyes, watching ships on the horizon. I wanted to say something back. Words danced in my throat, begging to be released. I tried to form the shape of the letters, but they were stuck. Something choked me. Took my voice away.

I knew then I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't make her sit and wait and wonder the way I did for years. I couldn't force her to stay frozen, watching the horizon, waiting for the day I reappeared – if I reappeared. If my parents decided to stay out there, who knew when I'd be coming back? It was too much to ask her to stake her happiness on that uncertainty. To shut herself away on the chance that what we'd built over two weeks would survive time and distance.

It was already over.

I just had to find a way to tell her.

I just had to find a way to believe it.