Choosing Me

Two Years Later

There's a kind of silence on the ocean that makes you feel like the world has finally left you alone.

The Pacific Majesty sliced through the Pacific like a dream~twelve decks of soft marble and glass, polished chrome railings that curved like sculpture, and an infinity pool that seemed to fall off the edge of the earth. The scent of sea salt, eucalyptus, and luxury clung to every surface. Quiet wealth. Not the kind that shouted, but the kind that didn't have to.

There's something oddly poetic about sipping champagne on the deck of a luxury cruise ship, alone, on your twenty-fifth birthday.

I leaned back in the lounger, my sunglasses shielding me from the blinding August sun, and exhaled into the breeze as the Pacific Majesty glided through sapphire-blue water off the coast of California.

My first real holiday as a single woman.
My first real holiday, period.

After everything, I deserved this.

I had booked the cruise three months ago and boarded two days ago from San Diego, it was a birthday gift to myself. Seven nights, adults only, all-inclusive luxury with rooftop dining, spa treatments, and private balconies~just enough quiet indulgence to make up for the years I spent playing the role of someone else's support system.

Back home in Oregon, my one-bedroom apartment sat clean and calm, just like I left it. A little space I bought with my own money, in my own name. It still smelled like lavender oil and fresh coffee grounds. It still felt like mine.

After living with Vee for a year, saving every dime, and pouring myself into writing lifestyle pieces for wellness brands and travel magazines, I built a career from my Macbook and it worked. Freelance writing turned into ghostwriting gigs. Ghostwriting turned into retainers. By the time last Christmas rolled around, I was making more than I ever had in that old life.

I didn't need permission to exist anymore.

This trip was my way of honoring that.

Vee couldn't make it, though God knows she wanted to. We were supposed to come together, but two months before the cruise, she'd called me in tears~happy ones~for once.

"I'm pregnant," she'd whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"With your giant boyfriend's baby?" I had teased.

"Yes, with my giant boyfriend's baby." She'd laughed so hard she cried.

A year ago, she met the sweetest man at a mutual friend's game night. Now they were building a life together, she was glowing. Spending mornings picking nursery colors and reading baby books while her man rubbed her feet.

She deserved that. All of it.

Even-though I was here alone, I felt whole. I reached for my phone to take a photo of the view, only to see a message from Vee waiting.

"Happy birthday to the baddest bitch I know! So proud of you. Eat cake for breakfast, drink wine at noon. Post thirst traps, AND don't fall for any mysterious men on cruise ships, unless he's rich~ then call me."

I laughed, tucked the phone away, and took another sip of champagne.

This wasn't the life I planned, but it was mine now.

And it was finally beginning to feel good.

I was halfway to the sun deck café, craving a juicy beef burger, when I rounded the corner and collided hard into someone.

A firm, tall someone.

My champagne glass shattered at my feet. The icy remains of what was left soaked through my sandals.

"Oh my God~" I looked up.

And blinked.

Hard.

He was... GORGEOUS.

Midnight-black hair, tousled just enough to look like it had been ruined by either the wind or a woman's hands. Olive green eyes~sharp, unreadable, framed by thick lashes that no man deserved. Tall, lean but muscular. Like he belonged in a cologne ad where no one even noticed the scent because they were too busy looking at him.

But his expression was Ice-cold.

"Watch where you're going," he snapped.

I straightened my posture. "Excuse me?"

"You nearly walked into me holding a glass. That could've gone in my face."

I laughed, sharp and humorless. "You were the one walking like you own the damn ship."

His jaw clenched. "How would you even know that since I wasn't the one texting and wandering around in four-inch wedges."

"Oh, I'm sorry~am I ruining your private runway?" I shot back. "Next time I'll wear a safety vest so you can avoid me."

He stepped forward slightly, eyes locked on mine. "Maybe don't drink before noon and you'll stay on your feet."

I stared at him, stunned. "It was one glass of champagne...For my birthday."

His eyes flicked over me then...Slowly. Calculated, like he wasn't impressed.

"Happy birthday," he said flatly. "Try not to stab anyone with your broken glass next time."

He started to turn.

But something in me snapped.

"Maybe try not being a condescending jackass next time."

He paused mid-step, then turned back to face me, hands in his pockets, amused now.

"Feisty. Is this how you celebrate turning... what? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-five," I said, chin raised.

His brow lifted. "Impressive. You argue like a woman who's been burned before."

"Is that what you do?" I asked. "Look for bruised women to poke at for fun?"

"No," he said coolly. "Just the ones who try to weaponize birthday champagne."

I didn't respond.

We stared at each other in silence.

God, he was beautiful but infuriating, and smug in the way only men who were too used to being desired could get away with.

"I'll send someone to clean up your glass," he finally said. "Enjoy your day."

He walked away like he hadn't just hijacked my mood.

I stood there in wet sandals, heart pounding, trying to decide if I wanted to throw the broken stem of my Champagne glass after him, just to practice as darts~or see him again just to argue some more.