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“Yes, I have the papers. No, I’m not leaving them in the mail box. This has to be…” Ariel’s voice cracked. She coughed into her fist and said with more courage than she actually had, “This has to be done right.”
Rustling folders and papers filled the line until a thump let her know that Sebastian had settled down. He clicked his tongue, fumbled with some papers again, paused, then let out a long sigh.
“Ariel,” he started, “are you sure about this? Have you realized what you’re about to do?”
Ariel pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the pulses of a migraine brushing along her temples. She had thought about this moment for months. At first it had come along as an insult, then the idea was thrown around to poke fun. But as she gazed at the polished marble counter tops and floors, the model ships and anchors that decked the halls, and the enormous canvas of three smiling faces, she knew deep in her being that this had been brewing for years.
“Yes,” she said. “Like I said last week and the months before that. I know what I’m doing.”
Though she couldn’t see him, she could practically hear the old man frowning so hard that his wrinkles were hurting. Another flutter of papers and another deep sigh followed.
“You didn’t tell Daddy did you?” Ariel asked.
“Of course not!” Sebastian said before she could get the question out of her mouth. “Nor did I tell anyone from your family. Do you really think so little of me that I can’t be discrete?”
“Well, to be fair it’s hard to keep anything secret from Daddy. Remember how quick you cracked to spill what I did when I was younger?”
Sebastian didn’t return the laugh. “That was when I was looking after a 16 year old. This is different.”
Ariel blinked hard, chasing away the pinpricks of tears at the corner of her eyes. She put her hand over the phone’s receiver and held it away from her. Into the shore. Out the bay. Into the shore. Out the bay.
“Ariel?”
Ariel brought the phone back to her ear.
“Yeah, you’re right. This is a lot different from then.” she said. “Hey, I’m gonna go. Got to put my game face on.”
Sebastian hummed in agreement, then added, “I can meet you afterwards at Myrtle’s Lighthouse.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“So Myrtle’s it is. You’ll call me when you’re done won’t you.”
Ariel smiled weakly. “Okay. Sebastian?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Ariel pretended she could she his tentative, albeit awkward grin as he said, “Of course Love.”
At the sound of the line cutting off, she dropped the phone back onto its receiver. She dragged her hands through her hair, quickly tucking red strands back into place, and glanced at the anchor shaped clock on the wall. Eric hated it, but she loved it. And with enough eye fluttering and pouting, he relented and agreed to put it up in the living room.
The memory almost made her smile. The canvas portrait on the wall, however, made it wither altogether. Three faces beamed down at her from its perch on the wall. The hanging light above illuminated each face in disturbingly precise detail. From the dark haired girl grinning shyly in the center of the portrait with her tight pink dress to the suited man poised to the girl’s left, shoulders squared and the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw. And to the girl’s right, a woman. Her dark red hair pulled into a too neat bun with the straps of her sea green dress hanging off of her shoulders. Her lips were pursed politely, no grin, just pleasantry. She radiated the same aura of control and awe that the man at her side did. She was beautiful.
And it took all of Ariel’s power not to punch a hole in the canvas.
She forced her attention to the rest of the room, noting all the things that either Eric, Melody, or the designers had approved of. The fire place, the curtains, the carpets, the decor--everything from top to bottom languished in a flavor only the Christiansen bloodline could possess and pull off. Ariel tried to think of what the house had looked like before they had moved in, but couldn’t remember much of anything after Melody.
Ariel dropped her head in her hands, breathing harshly. Into the shore. Out the bay. Into the shore. Out the bay.
Her leg began to the bounce and she held onto the chair’s armrests instead as she felt the room spin. But the room swayed and fell, bobbing her along like like the sea. Dragging her out from shore before she even had a chance to grab hold anything. Saliva flooded her mouth and she swallowed back the sour taste that followed. No, no, no! Please! Shore. Bay. Shore. Bay! She chanted her mantra louder and louder. Begging for everything to just stay still for one minute--
A click echoed in the house.
She froze.
The lock’s tumblers shook and rolled, exploding in the silence. She held her breath. And the door finally opened. She tensed, ready for the slam that rippled through the walls or the deafening shouts that followed soon after. But there was nothing. Nothing, but the steady steps of Italian leather shoes and a gentle click of the door being closed.
Ariel sank into her chair as if it’s cream fabric could hide her. The steps continued, then stopped.
“Ariel?”
Ariel looked up at the man who walked in. His dark, black hair--her daughter’s hair--was pulled back into a loose ponytail though his bangs were ruffled, while a beard engulfed his chin. He was wearing the navy, blue suit she had given him five Christmas’ ago. His suit jacket hung on one arm and he set his briefcase down by the couch as he walked into the room.
“What are you doing sitting in the dark?” He asked, flicking the lights on.
She winced under the blinding lights.
“I was lost in thought.” She said. She checked the window to see deep shades of marigold and violet seeping across the sky. As she turned, she felt her muscles ripple and her back pop. She winced. How long had she been sitting there?
Eric’s gaze wandered towards the wine cellar by the book case, then back at her. He clucked his tongue, flinging his jacket onto the back of the couch. The discerning shadow crossing his face didn’t go unnoticed.
“Lost in thought huh,” he mumbled.
“Yes!” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “I’m capable of thinking like anyone else is.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He leaned against the head of the couch, opening and closing his mouth until he turned away. He disappeared around the corner into the kitchen, a series of clanging pots following.
“Have you eaten yet?” He asked. “I gave Carlotta the night off, so it’ll just be us tonight.”
Ariel stared at the direction of the kitchen, imagining him expertly balancing a carton of eggs, milk, and celery on one arm and turning on the stove with his free hand. She shook her head. He only ever did that to impress her when they first started dating. Before Carlotta and the chefs. And the ring that now weighed heavily in her pocket.
“That was nice of you,” she said. “You don’t have to run out tonight?”
“No, I cleared my schedule. Melody thought it would be nice for her parents to pretend they still date. Her words, not mine. Do you want gremolata or carbonara?”
“I…not really, no.”
She heard him sigh and grumble before slamming a cabinet door shut. The refrigerator door whined as it opened.
“Well,” Eric said, “I don’t have time to prep anything else. I can whip up some whiting if…and you didn’t get the whiting.”
Ariel winced. “We could always order in. Or maybe go out? It’s been a long time since we went to that Thai fusion place you like so much.”
Eric didn’t say anything and continued to rummage through the kitchen. Ariel folded her hands in her lap, suddenly wishing she had eaten before as her head began to throb.
“Eric. We need to talk.”
The rummaging ceased. Eric popped his head around the corner, his brows furrowed at her. He walked into the living room with the grace of a puppet whose strings were tangled in knots. He sat on the side of the couch that hooked into L shape, leaving his knee to nearly brush against hers. Eric rested his hands on his knees, eyeing her cautiously.
“I’m listening,” he said. Ariel took a breath when he said, “Wait. You’re not pregnant are you?”
Ariel ground her teeth together. “No.”
Ariel’s nails bit into the skin of her hands at the relieved expression on his face. Into the shore. Out of the bay.
“Eric,” she started again. “I want to thank you. For everything. You’ve given me so many memories over the past 20 years. You’ve been with me through both good, bad, and everything in between. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret sneaking out to that party. Daddy was beyond furious. Remember when--”
“The point, Ariel.” Eric said.
Ariel’s tongue went dry under the heated glare he gave her. The speech she had memorized forwards and backwards, inside and out, evaporated instantly. She looked at him then. Really looked at him. His beard and hair were thick, but peppered in hints of gray. Crows feet pinched the corners of his eyes where dark crescents rested. His face, though still finely square and chiseled, had the tiniest gait of fat settling into his cheeks and jaw. His eyes, those beautiful irises holding every shade of blue the sea and sky could fathom, were hidden under the stormy glare of his glare.
On the surface was a tired, old man who tired of his wife’s games of forgetfulness. But underneath, Ariel could still see the powerful tides of courage. His deep, expansive need for adventure. The thunderous crash of his heart when in the throes of passion. Just like the sea she fell in love with, he was ever present. He was still there. He just no longer wanted her to sail upon him. With him.
She dropped her eyes to the rug on the carpet and frowned. “I hate that carpet.”
“The carpet?” Eric looked at the carpet, then back at her. “You wanted to talk…about the carpet?”
Ariel said nothing, her frown deepening.
“How much have you been drinking?” He asked.
“I haven’t been drinking!” She snapped.
“Rightttt,” Eric clucked his tongue. He sauntered over to the wine cellar, kneeling down to inspect the bottles. “Just like you weren’t drinking at my office party. Or how you weren’t at my charity auction. Or how you weren’t drinking at our daughter’s award celebration.” He slammed the glass door shut with more force than necessary, shaking the cellar’s hinges. “First it’s that you don’t like my tie, or the decorations, or the damn suits that the waiters wear. There’s always something you don’t like before you rage, isn’t there.”
He kept talking, but his words grew into white static. The pressure in Ariel’s head tightened and the room began to sway once more. Into the shore. Out the bay. Into the shore. Out the bay. But in that moment, the shore and bay were gone. Swallowed by the waves of a storm she no longer wanted to bear.
“I can’t.” She said. Though she couldn’t hear him, she knew he had stopped. Her shoulders trembled as she caught her face in her hands. Her words came out in harsh, ragged breaths. “I can’t…I can’t…”
In her blurred vision, she could just barely make out Eric standing before her.
“Can’t do what?” He asked.
“This!” The word came out as a scream. “I can’t do this anymore!”
Her lungs ached. Was it always this painful to breathe? Eric tentatively reached out to her, his fingers just barely brushing her shoulders before she slapped his hand away. She rose to her feet, hands pulling at her hair.
“Don’t touch me! You never wanted to touch me!” She sobbed. “You never wanted to be with me.”
“Ariel, that’s not true.”
“Bull shit!”
Eric jumped. He ogled her as if she slapped him. No. He looked at her as if she were a wild animal. Ariel knew she was a mess. All the hours of careful hair pinning and makeup down the drain. But she didn’t care. She jabbed a finger in his chest.
“You hated me the moment I walked into that bar. You hated me at the altar. You hate me,” she cried. Eric grasped her arms and she thrashed, pounding his chest. “No! Don’t touch me!”
Eric crushed her into him, caging her with his arms. She writhed and beat against him, her tears soaking his shirt. He brought a hand to her hair and struggled to cradle her head.
“Ariel. Ariel, get a hold of yourself,” he said. “I never said any of that.”
Her thrashing slowed until she was weeping into his neck. Eric bit the inside of his cheek, searching for words. Before he could say any of peacemaking negotiations he had recited at court, his eyes locked onto a manila envelope sticking out from the cushion where Ariel had sat. His body tensed against hers.
“Ariel,” he said, “what is that?”
Ariel sniffled. She took several breaths and pulled herself free, hugging herself. She felt his stare burning into her and sighed.
“I can’t Eric,” she said. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“You keep saying that, but what do you--”
“Eric! You know what I mean!” She gestured between them. “Look at us. When was the last time we’ve been alone together without fighting?”
Eric spluttered and cut his own words off in a heated huff. Ariel took a step back, watching as he stepped after her only to stumble back. His hands clenched and unclenched like he was searching something--anything--to grasp or shed light on what was happening. Each second of it made the ring in her pocket heavier.
Eric dragged his hands down his face. “Please tell me you’ve been drinking.”
“Eric--!”
“Drinking, smoking, you’ve obviously been doing something to make you talk like this.”
Ariel’s shoulders slumped. At the slow shake of her head, Eric swore.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We both knew this was coming.”
“You might have! I’ve been trying to fix it, unlike you!”
Eric strode towards her until his shadow dwarfed hers. Ariel shrank under him, trying to inch back, but he wouldn’t let her. His hands kept a firm grip on her shoulders. At her wince, he flexed his fingers in an attempt to ease his hold.
“Do you not love me?” He asked.
“What kind of question is that?” Ariel snapped. “When was the last time you ever told me you loved me?”
“The last time--I tell you that all the time!”
“Yes. All the time when there’s an audience or a charity or when I’m picking duvets or draperies for the god damn house.”
That was enough to make Eric wince.
“That’s not true.” He said. “And you like doing things like that.”
Ariel pounded her fists on his chest with the ferocity of a lion, yelling, “I never liked that before and I never liked it now!”
“No, you just like acting like a royal bitch.”
Ariel didn’t see or even feel when she did it. All that registered in her mind was the earsplitting slap and the dark, pink welt that bloomed across Eric’s cheek that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Eric’s hands dropped from her shoulders and shakily went to cup his cheek. His eyes widened at her as she reached out, but immediately brought her hands away from. Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. Oh god, Eric, please I’m so sorry,” she said. The words tumbled one after the other in a garbled melange of tears.
She collapse to her knees on the floor, wheezing her apologies. Eric only watched her rock back and forth, still cupping his cheek as the sting began to fester. Through her mumbling and breathless please, he could just barely make out her words.
“I’m a monster. I’m a monster.” She said.
“No you’re not.” He replied softly.
“I hurt you.”
Eric shook his head, kneeling down to her. He gently grasped her hand and brought it to the cheek she had slapped.
“Hit me again.” He said.
Ariel tried to yank her hand away, but Eric clenched her wrist tightly.
“Do it.” He growled.
“No!”
“If this is what you need to get this out of your system, just get it over with!”
Ariel pushed against him hard enough and tumbled back onto the floor. She scooted away from him, eyes wide in horror.
“Listen to us Eric,” she said. “What kind of marriage is this? I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”
Eric’s jaw tightened, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the conversation or the growing pain in his cheek. “You’re talking nonsense.”
“No I’m not. I don’t see me in this house. I don’t see me in these clothes. I don’t even see me in Melody anymore!”
Eric swallowed thickly. He brought his outreached hand back to his side.
“Is this…is this because of her?” Eric asked. The mere mention of her made Ariel shudder. “She meant nothing. I…damn it! Wasn’t it enough when you slept with that bastard? We’re even now aren’t we!”
Ariel closed her eyes as the memories knock the wind out of her. The anger that had coiled her up when she found the lingerie that wasn’t hers. When she saw the love marks that she didn’t give him. How they would have send Melody to one of her aunts because of how long their screaming matches would last. How she had let Archimedes embrace her in every intimate, debauched position in the world while Eric waited in the next suite over.
Ariel let the tears fall silently and opened her eyes again. The gleaming overhead lights blinded her, shining her and Eric’s tattered vows in plain sight.
“Twenty years isn’t just something you can throw away,” Eric murmured.
Ariel blinked.
“No.” She said. “It isn’t.”
She shakily rose to her feet. She stumbled, catching herself on the armrest of the chair. Her legs felt weightless as she dragged herself to the manila envelope still tucked in the cushion. She tugged it free and placed it on the coffee table. She braced herself against the glass table, taking a breath.
“I’ve already signed it,” she said. “You can keep the house, the boats, the money. I don’t want anything.”
She turned to leave, but felt his hand grasp her wrist. The fire in his past grip was gone. His cold fingers slid from her wrist and weakly clutched her hand. Ariel trained her eyes on the door, ignoring the pull on her hand.
“Ari,” Eric rasped. “Please.”
Ariel tugged her hand away. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring. The sapphire and emerald gemstone twinkled at her, mocking her until she looked away. She placed it on top of the envelope, walked to the door, and closed it behind her.
She was thankful she had packed her belongings the night before. A few trinkets, clothes, and toiletries thrown into a duffel bag. She started the car and drove down the winding driveway, away from the sea house perched on top of the cove. Night had finally settled along the shore, it’s darkness hiding the sandy stretch of land and ocean. She lost track of how long it took before she made it downtown.
She pulled up into an empty space in front of a diner. The blue and white lighthouse perched on the diner’s open sign flashed on and off, washing its light over the hood of her car. Ariel briefly glanced around to see only two other cars in the parking lot. She fished out her cell phone from her purse and hit the dial button. After a few rings, the man’s voice came in a shrill rush.
“You were supposed to call me ages ago!” Sebastian screeched. “What happened? Are you alright? What did he--”
“I just left.” She said. She barely even recognized her voice from how hoarse she sounded.
“Sweet Neptune, Ariel are you okay?”
Ariel shrugged. “I’m here.”
“Ariel what happened--”
“I’m here.”
Sebastian paused. “I’m coming now, Love.”
Ariel let out a sigh, dropping her head back on the head rest. She absentmindedly fiddled with the radio. The stations switched back and forth until a song made her freeze. The steady base plucked a chord inside her long before she even heard the words. The song picked up speed and with it so did her tears. She sobbed loudly now, shaking almost painfully, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn the radio off. How could she when it was their song. The same song they would play over and over in the bar of that cruise liner. Unlike the lyrics, however, she no longer had the strength to go sailing. Not for Eric or herself.
But perhaps it was meant to be this way. They had found their love out there. Flew out there. Kissed out there. Became one out there. It was only fitting that it died there. And that’s where it stayed.
On a forgotten shore, beyond the sea.