Love Like Theirs

by Sophie Love

  She thought of the text from Cristiano’s new girlfriend, the one she’d been agonizing over. It felt so stupid to her now to have been that worked up over him seeing someone else. Of course it didn’t mean their relationship had meant nothing to him, it just meant that he was moving on with someone new.

  The plane took to the skies, and the sensation of soaring made her stomach flip. Being so high above the world made her feel so free, so bold and independent. She smiled to herself and looked in her carry-on bag for the details of the upcoming cruise.

  Heather had outdone herself this time. The itinerary was laminated. Probably as an attempt to mitigate against Keira’s tendency to spill coffee and fall off gondolas into canals. Heather had also bound the pages. It reminded Keira of something she would have produced in college, and she smirked to herself.

  Keira flicked straight past the pages of important contact numbers—noting with a wry smile the empty space where a tour guide’s name and number would normally be—and skipped straight to the juicy details of the cruise. She’d hardly had time to get her head around the fact she was going on a cruise, that she’d be on a huge boat in the open sea. It would be a brand new experience for her. Her stomach leapt with anticipation. She glanced through the list of locations: Copenhagen, Denmark. Helsinki, Finland. Stockholm, Sweden.

  Heather wasn’t one for adornment and there were no pictures included to further whet Keira’s appetite—too expensive to print in color, she thought in Heather’s voice—so she took her tablet from her bag and began to search online.

  The images were stunning. Unlike the European cities she’d visited thus far, the buildings in the Scandinavian countries were different, peaked like alpine lodges. And there were vast swaths of countryside, beautiful evergreen trees, lakes of deep blue, and craggy mountains. She could hardly sit through the rest of the plane ride; she wanted to be there now!

  Napping was always a good way to pass the time, so Keira settled into her airplane seat and let herself drift off to sleep.

  She dreamed she was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out at the ocean, deep blue and calm. Through the waves she saw a school of dolphins, jumping up before disappearing again. She watched, amazed, as they leaped in strange formations. It was almost like they were dancing, or performing synchronized routines for her. As though trying to impress her.

  Keira noticed something peculiar about the dolphins then, about their faces. Even from this distance, she could make out their strangely human expressions, and the varying shades of their eyes. One had the same piercing blue eyes of Shane, and his crooked, cheeky smile to match. Another had deep chocolate eyes, a softness in its expression that reminded her of Cristiano. Yet another had a lost expression, with a look of mourning and regret behind its eyes. Zachary.

  No sooner had she made these connections than their graceful acrobatics transformed into something new. Not a coordinated routine anymore, but something aggressive. A display of masculinity. The Cristiano dolphin plowed headfirst into the Zachary one, busting his nose, or snout, or whatever it was called on a dolphin. The Zachary one hit back, swishing his tail at both Cristiano and Shane. Shane just stood on the back of his tail, flapping his great flippers like this was all a huge joke. Then they piled in on one another, ripping shreds from one another as she watched on horrified, the blue ocean turning red before her eyes.

  She tried to call out, “Stop! It’s not a competition!” But her voice was drowned out by the winds.

  Then a new danger took her focus. Racing through the waves toward the sparring dolphins was an enormous whale. She didn’t know who this whale was, a stranger, but he moved with purpose and killer determination. Her dolphin-exes were so busy attacking one another they didn’t even notice the whale approach until it was on top of them. In one huge mouthful, the whale ate all three dolphins up. Then it disappeared beneath the waves, making a whirlpool as it went, leaving nothing behind but bloody water to show anything had ever happened there.

  Keira startled awake. She was sweating, and her neck was stuck in a painful position. She rubbed it, adjusting to the brightness of the cabin, to the smells and sounds of the airplane in flight around her; rustling chip packets, the merry chatter of excited vacationers, the whirr of powerful engines. Finally coming back to herself, Keira began to chuckle.

  What a strange mind she had! To turn her exes into dolphins like that. But she wondered who the whale signified. Not a new boyfriend, she assured herself. That wasn’t the plan, not at all. She decided the whale signified her career, the way she was going to put it first and forget all traces of her ex-boyfriends in order to excel. There was no rebound affair on the horizon. At least, that was the plan…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Keira landed in Berlin, Germany—where the ship would be embarking from—several hours later. Her mind hadn’t quite gotten over the hilariously strange dream it had shown her on the airplane, and it took a bit of concentration to switch focus to the real world.

  She maneuvered through Berlin Tegel Airport, collecting her case and following the signs that she hoped were taking her to the exit. It felt good to be on her own this time. No guide to show her around, or take any of the responsibility off her shoulders. This time it was just her, and it made her feel powerful.

  She made it out of the airport and hailed a cab. The driver was in his fifties or so, with graying hair and a stern expression. But his attitude was far friendlier than his fierce expression would have indicated.

  “You’re going on the Scandinavian cruise?” he asked in perfect English and just the smallest hint of an accent.

  “I am.” Keira beamed. “I’m so excited.”

  “I’d love to go one day,” he said. “It’s a bit too expensive for a taxi driver though. Do you mind me asking your profession?”

  “Oh, I’m a writer,” Keira told him. “This is all paid for by the company.”

  “You’re very lucky,” he said. “What do you write?”

  “Travel articles. Well, sort of. They’re a bit of a mixture. Travel and romance.”

  From the back seat, Keira saw his reflection in the rearview mirror as he raised his eyebrows.

  “Travel and romance?”

  “I know, it sounds strange. But it’s more like personal accounts of the countries and my experiences within them, with dating and trying new things, meeting new men. It’s a bit of a mishmash but I’m starting to get a loyal following.”

  “Weird question,” he said. “You don’t write for that Latin-sounding magazine, do you? Viaduct, or whatever?”

  “Viatorum,” she told him, a little surprised he’d have heard of her New York City publication all the way over in Germany. But then again, they also e-published and anyone in the world could access the content online. “Have you heard of it?”

  “My wife loves it,” he said, with an air of frustration. “You’re the one on the cover, aren’t you? I recognize your face now.”

  The cover. With Cristiano. Keira groaned. She’d known at the time the image would come to haunt her one day, but she’d let Nina and Elliot have their way. She regretted it now.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” she said, hunkering down defensively.

  “It’s your fault I’m taking her to Paris for her birthday,” he said, jovially, in spite of the complete discord with his stern face. “Great, she’ll want a cruise next. You’re going to bankrupt me.”

  “Sorry about that,” Keira mumbled.

  She gazed out the window, trying to switch her focus from the somewhat awkward conversation to the sight of a new, foreign city passing her by.

  Berlin was stunning. Keira had heard about the city reinventing itself and moving on from its troubled history, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite this vibrant and artsy. It seemed very youthful and cosmopolitan, like the quirkier parts of New York exemplified.

  Her driver must have noticed her staring, because he said, “We’ll be passing by a part of the wall soon.”

  Keira ha
dn’t been sure whether she’d get a glimpse of the wall that had once divided East and West Berlin, splitting families apart and cleaving the city by political affiliation. She shuddered now as it came into view, a crumbled relic that the German people had torn down with their very hands. Mallory had watched the momentous occasion on the news, and it was a moment of triumph in history she seemed privileged to have witnessed. Keira felt humbled by the sight of it and took a photo with her cell phone in order to show Mallory when they were reunited at Christmas.

  The cab carried on, drawing closer to the harbor. Keira caught sight of the ship even while they were still some distance away. It was huge, a gleaming white monstrosity. Her stomach fluttered with excitement.

  Her driver pulled in to the drop-off spot. Keira took some euros from the envelope provided by Heather and handed them over his shoulder.

  “Tell your wife hi from me,” she said, feeling a little strange to be saying it.

  “Enjoy your cruise,” he replied in his incongruously warm voice and blank face.

  Keira collected her case from the trunk and stared up at the enormous ship that was to be her home for the next fifteen days. She took a deep breath to quell her excited butterflies, then headed confidently toward it.

  *

  The cruise ship was so much more beautiful than Keira had expected. Inside, it was decorated in an Art Deco style, with rich colors, bold geometric shapes, and ornaments. And even better than the unexpected glitz and glamour was the lavishness of a swimming pool and Jacuzzi on deck! Keira hadn’t expected such luxury. She was going to love making this ship her home.

  Filled with awe, she ventured to the bow, where there was a route all the way to the tip of the ship. It was impossible not to think of Jack and Rose on the Titanic, although she knew there was no love story in store for her, and she prayed there would be no icebergs either!

  After a whistle-stop glance at the top deck, Keira went in search of her room. She’d been expecting to venture below deck, but to her surprise, her cabin was actually on the top deck. She found the door and went inside.

  There was a round window, a proper brass-rimmed one like from a movie, and the view was straight out onto the ocean. Keira had been half expecting a cheap room, a little cubbyhole near the kitchens that smelled of food and was always noisy, but this was the opposite. Quiet, cozy, luxurious.

  Her bed was made of chestnut wood, varnished so that it gleamed, and there were creamy silk sheets on it. On one of the small side tables was a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne. She wondered who at the magazine had arranged that. Elliot wouldn’t think to be so kind, and Heather would hate the extra, unnecessary expense. She wondered then if Nina had had a hand in it. They hadn’t been on the best of terms since the furor over the Paris trip, where Nina had become so over-focused on the outcome she’d forgotten that Keira was a person with thoughts and feelings. But then she saw that there was a small card beside the champagne bucket. She picked up the card and opened it.

  Welcome aboard, Keira Swanson! May I take this opportunity to express our deepest gratitude that your magazine has chosen our cruise company for your latest article. We are huge fans of Viatorum and can’t wait to be featured in your next issue.

  Keira stopped reading, discarding the card. The champagne wasn’t from one of her caring work colleagues at all, but from the cruise company, attempting to butter her up so she’d write good things about them. Was the whole tour some kind of promotional thing? Some corporate back-scratching?

  She grabbed her phone and texted Nina.

  Is the cruise company advertising with us?

  Nina replied quickly.

  They’re funding the trip. I assumed Elliot would have told you that.

  Keira sighed. So the article was just basically a huge advertisement? It would’ve been nice to have been told in advance. At least that explained why Elliot had just plowed ahead and booked the trip without getting her final consultation as he’d promised last time around. Keira didn’t want to sound like a spoiled brat, but Viatorum messed her around quite a lot. They certainly seemed to expect more from her than she did from them.

  She sent another text to Nina.

  How am I supposed to write about the cruise ship? A ship isn’t a country.

  When Nina texted back, her response shocked her.

  You’re not writing the next Great American Novel here. This isn’t On the Road. Just say something nice so we all get paid.

  Keira pouted and put her phone away. Nina was in a mood. Again. She didn’t want it to spoil her enjoyment, so she pushed her irritation to the back of her mind.

  Just then there was a knock on the door. Keira frowned and opened it. Standing outside was a young man dressed like a hotel bellboy. Keira immediately realized he was some kind of delegate from the cruise company, here to sweet-talk her. She really didn’t feel like listening to the spiel.

  “Hi, I’m Vince,” he said, smiling and holding out a hand. Keira shook it despondently. “I’ve come to give you some brochures for our ship,” he continued. “The Revontulet, which is the Finnish term for the Northern Lights.”

  Keira felt her smile return. She was excited to know in just a few days’ time she’d be witnessing the infamous light display!

  She took the brochures from Vince, feeling her mood improve considerably.

  “Thanks. And for the champagne, too. It was a nice touch.”

  Vince nodded, his little hat bobbing as he did. “Your minibar is also stocked with liquors and snacks, all complimentary, of course.”

  Keira smirked. They were going to buy her affection through her stomach. It was quite a good strategy, she had to admit.

  Vince hovered at the door. “If you’d like to be given a tour I can come back at a convenient time to show you all the facilities.”

  “I’m good,” Keira said, declining. “I prefer to explore on my own terms.” She held up the brochures he’d given her. “Besides, I’ve got all the info I need in here.”

  “Okay. If there’s anything you need, just come to the information desk and ask for Vince.”

  “Will do,” Keira said, knowing that she most definitely would not.

  She shut the door and started to look through the brochure. Inside were all the details of things to do onboard the ship; there were comedy shows, live music events, karaoke, dances, even a cinema! She wouldn’t be short on events to distract herself with, she thought wryly. Procrastination aboard the Revontulet might be hard to fight.

  Then her stomach growled, reminding her that a diet of airplane food was hardly sufficient to get her through the day. She found the information on food. Dinner would be served in the main dining room. Again, she couldn’t help but think of the Titanic.

  It dawned on Keira then that she had no one to eat with. No tour guide this time, no one to discuss things with or bounce ideas off of. Eating alone had to be one of the loneliest activities in the world. She could always try video calling Bryn or one of her friends, but that would probably look a bit odd.

  She decided then that instead of a lonely sit-down dinner, she’d spend the first evening aboard the Revontulet on the top deck, munching through some minibar snacks and drinking champagne. The company was footing the bill after all, so she ought to do what she wanted and what made her happy while she was here. It seemed like a much more enjoyable way to spend her time, she decided.

  She looked through the little fridge, taking out a selection of foods, then grabbed the cool bottle of champagne. Drips ran down the sides and fell to the carpet as she left her room and headed for the deck.

  On the port side of the boat were a series of sun loungers. Despite the evening weather, half of them were already occupied with lone travelers who’d had more or less the same idea as Keira. She selected one, laying her snacks out before her and placing the champagne bottle onto the table beside her.

  As she settled in, the boat began to move. The sensation was bizarre, a sort of lurching undulati
on unlike anything her body had ever experienced before. Thinking now was as good a time as any, she grabbed her champagne bottle and popped the cork. Then, realizing she’d forgotten to take the cup from her room, she shrugged and took a swig straight from the bottle. Classy? No. But she didn’t care.

  She looked over her shoulder as Berlin began to grow smaller, its lights turning into little more than twinkling stars. Then she turned the other way and looked out at the blackness, at the ocean and dark sky, filled with excitement. She raised her glass to the air, toasting herself, her independence, and toasting the trip and all the new possibilities that lay ahead of her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Slightly tipsy from the champagne, Keira felt her stomach begin to complain. Minibar food and plane food might have been sufficient for sober Keira, but tipsy Keira was ravenous. Plus, the bubbles made her bolder, and so she headed toward the dining room for dinner alone.

  The dining room was as opulent as the rest of the ship, Art Deco as well. There was hardly anyone here at this time of evening, since it was approaching ten p.m. now. Keira followed a server to a small table that was positioned right beside the huge glass windows, affording her a wonderful view out to the open decks and the ocean beyond. She scanned the menu, pleased that it was written in English. She didn’t feel like accidentally eating anything as exotic as the things Cristiano had in France!

  It did feel very strange sitting alone. She had become accustomed to looking up from her menu and seeing Cristiano’s gorgeous face. But no, not now, and she refused to get upset about it. She’d toasted her future, after all. It was all about being bold and independent now.