Page 3 of If I Go Down with This Ship

I stayed in that alley, back pressed against the brick, too afraid to give it a chance, to see where one night could lead.But as always, I thought ofhim.Of Julian and how I had worn my heart on my sleeve only to have my trust completely shattered.I didn’t know the waiter, so how could I have known for certain if he was worth taking a risk?

It was my doing; it’s always my doing.I don’t have to be alone, I could have gone with him, but I chose not to.

That’s my problem.I find myself sifting through all the outcomes, wondering what the consequences could be, and I end up alone.I can’t seem to turn my brain off, to stop wondering if this is another mistake in the making, if this could be someone else to break me.

At thirty-four, stuck in this cycle, I feel trapped.Unmoving.

“I think,” I start slowly, “there’s something so terrifying about love, the giving in to it, the letting all your inhibitions go so they can see you for you.And after what happened with… Well, I just can’t seem to allow myself to let go.”

Louise straightens.“But that’s love, Lasz.And the thing is, you can’t find it until you let go of those inhibitions.”

I raise a brow.“That’s interesting coming from you, considering you nearly got married.”

She peers out the window and presses one of the red buttons for the next stop.“Yeah, to the wrong person.But I know that now, and I wouldn’t know that if I hadn’t at least tried.”

Shrugging, I smile sadly.“Then maybe it’s not meant for me.”

I don’t want anyone to see the real me again, not after what happened with Julian.If they did, if they saw all the worry and doubt churning in my mind, they’d flee.

Hell,I’drun away from myself if I could.

But I seem to be anchored to my dock, unwilling to lift the gangplank and sail off toward that something catching my eye on the horizon.

The brakes squeal as the bus slows, and Louise and I jostle into each other as it jerks to an abrupt stop.“I can’t help you find love, Lasz, but let’s see if I can help you with your writing problem.Come on.”Grabbing my hand, she yanks me through the crowd, out the back doors as they open, and onto the sidewalk.

I let her drag me through the city and down to Sunset Dock, an odd little shopping center built up around an old dock along the Thames.The area is crowded with families and couples walking leisurely with shopping bags and treats on an altogether pleasant and not-so-dreary London day.

We move past someone unloading fish.The smell hits me and I gag, covering my mouth and nose with my hand.“What are we doing here, Louise?”I ask, my voice muffled.

She grabs my free hand, walking backward through the crowd as she motions wildly to the space.“Do you remember when we were kids and you went on that trip to Victoria BC, where you had to board the ferry?”

The memory makes my stomach churn.“Don’t remind me.”

“I think the hang-up on your pirate book is this, Lasz.You’re scared of water.And you never got over it.How the hell are you supposed to write a pirate book if you can’t even board a ship yourself?”

I can’t help but think this is a metaphor for something else and she knows it, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

“I can board a ship if I want to,” I protest.Even still, I know she’s right.The water had been so choppy that day on the way to Victoria that the dark depths outside the railing had given me nightmares for weeks.To this day, I can’t bring myself to board a water vessel of any kind.

We turn the corner, and there, towering above the street, flag billowing in the wind, is a small ship flying under the Jolly Roger.

“Then do it,” Louise says.

It’s a new ship, one that hasn’t been through a battle or sea voyages, wars or raids, or any of the other terrible things pirate ships must endure.I’ve walked past this area dozens of times and I have never seen it before in my life.The ship’s not nearly as large as I would have expected.The wood and the black paint are so new, it’s nearly gleaming in the November sun, and large letters along the side readShe Deceitfulin a slender font.I open my mouth to mention that no pirate crew in their right mind would actually paint their ship’s name along the side, but nothing comes out, awe taking over as I step closer, hand outstretched as though to touch it.Something settles inside me.

“Where did you find this?”I whisper, tearing my eyes away and looking to Louise.

“I’ve got a friend.”

She lurches forward and hugs me around the waist, and, laughing, I wrap my arm around her.

“Oh, before I forget…” She fishes around in her purse and produces a clear bag.“Put your phone in that.Don’t want to lose it over the side of the ship.We both know how clumsy you are.”

I slip my phone in and zip it up, sliding it into my pocket.“You know me so well.”

Angling back, I squint against the blue sky to the top of the masts.There are two, the several sails and ropes tied up and out of the way for the time being.There has always been something so wondrous about the seafaring pirate life to me, something I’ve secretly yearned for.It’s why I chose to write this book, to fill the pages with what I can’t bring myself to find.

Adventure.