CHAPTER 002
1095 Words
Eleanor's Point of View
Before I realized I was watching him, something about his presence and gaze drew my interest. Midnight-black hair framed his sharp features, and illuminated by the soft glow of the ship's deck lights, forest-green eyes stared into a woman in front of him with unwavering intensity, his expression tight.
Rosalind told Edmund that they shouldn't begin by discussing Rosalind and then looked over at her carry-on bag, which sat beside her, to gauge whether Rosalind planned to leave.
"Rosalind, we have been together for eight years—it is fated that we be together—so why are you pushing me away?" His voice cracked slightly with anger—his pain was evident in every word spoken by him.
As soon as she opened the door to me, my stomach dropped. Feeling awkward about intruding upon someone else but unable to look away.
Rosalind crossed her arms, gripping the sleeves of her dress tightly in her hands. "This again?" Edmund crossed his arms as Rosalind continued speaking:" You don't love me; all I ever was for you was an heir to your family and an investment in their future. "You don't love me; all I ever meant for you was an investment in the future of your family." Rosalind looked away as Edmund spoke, closing his mouth slightly as they parted ways.
Edmund was taken aback. "That isn't accurate."
Why were you waiting until now to pursue my goals? If you truly loved me, you would have let me complete my tour without expecting me to abandon everything for you. She softened her voice. "This isn't love. This is control."
Rosalind, my grandmother, is sick. "She may not have long to live and wants our future secured." His hands tightened around each side.
Rosalind pressed her lips together into a thin line. "Your grandmother's wishes should not overrule mine. I have worked tirelessly towards building my career; I won't throw it all away just to play house."
She quickly grabbed her bag. "I must leave now."
Edmund was in a raging storm—I alone could see it. Colors shifted violently between deep blues and erratic blacks as his emotions became increasingly turbulent—borderline dangerous.
Before I could make up my mind on whether to intervene, Rosalind picked up her bag, strolled towards the railing, and leaped without hesitation off it.
As I lunged forward and gripped the railing tightly, my stomach tightened with fear as I looked down into the murky waters below. To my shock and amazement, she wasn't sinking; rather, a speedboat was already tugging her away—its engine lost beneath all the sounds of the ship itself.
Freya piped up from behind me: "That was certainly dramatic!" she commented in my mind.
"To say the least," was my response, trying to shake off my dazed state.
You must admit that the view from here just became much more exciting.
"Not now," I rolled my eyes.
Freya laughed, but my concentration remained on Edmund.
He hadn't moved for over an hour; his hands were gripping the railing, his shoulders hunched forward. I thought I heard a sniffle but wasn't sure until he wiped away his face. Although his back was stiff, his hung head told me all I needed to know.
He was crying, and I should walk away, since this wasn't my issue—but my feet stayed put.
Freya suggested going and consoling him. There are plenty of ways he can divert his thoughts away from her.
My face began to heat. "I'm with Harrison."
Said the girl whose heart is beating like crazy.
I disengaged myself from her and exhaled. Edmund's storm had only deepened; his emotions had become an incoherent mix of grief, rage, and what seemed like hopelessness.
I didn't stop and think before moving.
He carefully placed himself onto the bottom rung of the railing.
"No!" Before my brain could catch up with what had just happened, I grabbed him by his back with both arms locked around his torso and used all my strength to bring him backward.
Edmund had become visibly distressed at my unexpected tenacity; I didn't let go. His heart pounded beneath my palms; his body was stiff and rigid.
"What the hell?" My voice came out stronger than expected as I said, "You aren't doing this." When he didn't answer immediately, I interrupted with, "You aren't jumping."
He twisted slightly to look down at me. "No," he began, before looking away again.
"I don't care what you were planning. I tightened my grip. Step down. Just stop."
Silence. A long and oppressive silence.
Edmund gradually descended the railing, and I hesitated before releasing him onto the deck, fully expecting that he might bolt.
"Do you think I was going to jump?" His green eyes still had red rims as they met mine.
"Just tell me," I asked.
He gritted his teeth. "No. No way." His jaw tightened in opposition.
"So why were you up there?"
His gaze flickered toward the empty water before returning to me. "I don't know." "I don't know, either."
"All right. "Let's head into shelter before this storm turns into an actual one," I exhaled.
"What?" I grabbed his arm and led him toward one of the lounge chairs without resistance; once there, I waited until he had settled before continuing our discussion.
Edmund reached his hand through his hair to protec himself from further criticism. Edmund hesitated before responding. "No doubt."
"Yes," I replied softly as I sat beside him and crossed my legs beneath me. "People leave without saying goodbye, sometimes without even a trace." And it leaves you standing there wondering why you weren't enough to convince them otherwise.
He looked directly at me. "How can something so obvious be?" he inquired.
"I trust my instincts." I replied with a small shrug.
"She really left, didn't she?" He laughed with no trace of humor in his voice.
"She did." His fingers curled around the fabric of his pants as he replied.
"Don't do anything," he replied, disbelievingly.
"For tonight," I replied softly. "Just breathe and allow yourself to be sad—tomorrow will come to its own time for that decision-making."
Another silence fell between us, yet this time it wasn't as heavy.
Finally, he exhaled. "What is your name?" he inquired.
"Eleanor." She nodded slowly, as though to cement it into memory. He nodded slowly as well. "Thanks, Eleanor."
At that moment, simply sitting beside him and listening to the waves crash against our ship was enough.
- Writer
