Liam downed another shot, his tenth of the night. He wanted more. At least enough to forget about Cristiana.
He felt sick. No amount of alcohol would make him happy, it seemed.
He clenched his fists, holding back his anger. He had always been good at reading people, and Cristiana was no exception. So why was she lying to him?
Cheater, he thought bitterly. Though he couldn't be a hundred percent sure. What else could her secret be, that she had to keep it from him?
Liam stood and walked away from the bar. One whole year…a whole year of his life he had wasted on a woman he still couldn't trust. And so much money….
"Fucking bitch," he muttered under his breath. He needed to find her. Maybe force the answer out of her. He wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what she had done.
His stomach growled, and suddenly he felt sick. What was he thinking? Calling her names? Forcing the answer out of her? He was drunk. He wasn't thinking straight.
Liam stumbled and reached out for support.
"Sir? Sir? Are you okay?" A voice asked.
Liam looked up. He was leaning against a wall but still felt like he could collapse at any moment. "What do you want?"
The worker looked at him with concern. "Do I need to call a nurse?"
"No, I don't need a fucking nurse," Liam said with disgust. "Leave me alone." With that, he began to make his way back to the room, leaving the concerned worker behind.
As he walked, he noticed the floor beginning to move. The colorful patterns of the rug had become more vivid, more real.
Liam closed his eyes and shook his head. He was way too drunk.
944.
Sliding his card into the door, he pushed it open.
Footsteps closed in on him. Looking out, he saw Cristiana, stumbling toward the room.
Liam felt even more sick. If he couldn't control his thoughts, how would he be able to control his words and his actions?
Closing the door behind him, he laid on the bed and pretended to sleep.
.…
The Captain stood at the bridge of the ship, looking out the window at the dark sky. He was getting tired, but emergencies called for him to work extra hours.
"Navigation," he called out. "How're we looking?"
"All clear, sir," said the navigator.
"Good." He didn't need anything else on his plate tonight. A man overboard. It was unprecedented. It made him feel like a failure. An announcement would need to be made, and it would ruin the rest of the cruise for many of the passengers.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," said the Captain.
The Head Security Guard entered, and a middle-aged woman sauntered in just behind him.
"Someone want to tell me what's going on here?" The woman asked.
"Jackie Brooks?" The Captain asked.
"Yeah, that's me."
"We would like to inform you that your husband has fallen off the ship."
Jackie raised her eyebrows. "Really? Is he dead?"
"We're not sure," said the Captain. "We have people out searching for him as we speak."
"Sounds good." Jackie paused. "Will this affect my vacation at all? Do we have to turn around?"
The Captain frowned. "Of course not. You may return to your festivities, madam."
Jackie gave him a friendly smile. "Good. Keep me updated."
With that, she walked out the door and the guard closed the door behind her.
"What an odd woman," the Captain mumbled to himself.
He had been telling the truth; the cruise would continue on. Only six more days until arrival.
.…
Jack felt his body crashing into what felt like concrete.
Then the water began to cover his body, soaking through his clothes and piercing his skin with its frigid temperature.
But he couldn't move.
His body felt broken, like every bone was in the wrong spot.
And the pain was almost unbearable.
It became hard to stay conscious. His lungs contracted, pleading for air. But he couldn't get it. The surface was getting further and further away.
But he was glad. He was glad to die. His life had been a mix of humiliation, depression, and failure. He hoped Jackie would feel some remorse, knowing that she had truly been the one to kill him.
Closing his eyes, Jack drifted away, content and peaceful.