They were listening, or at least performing the part beautifully.

Later, looking out at the dark, swirling water from my cabin, a fragile hope began to take root. It felt like Darren was trying, like this trip was an apology etched in sea spray and salt air. But as any woman who has lived long enough knows, some silences have a razor’s edge. I couldn’t name it then, but something inside me remained on high alert. Sometimes, the calmest moments are just the deep breath before the storm.