Page 75 of Wait for Me

Before the cruise, he dreaded the whole affair. His marriage with Marie hadn’t worked out, so why would he want to relive it? Even though it was only for seven days, he had the idea that they’d both be miserable, putting on false smiles for their son’s sake.

Now, at the end of their week together, Logan wondered if he had misjudged Marie while they had been married. Although she hadn’t totally come clean about her job—or jobs—he sensed that she would eventually do so when she was ready.

Am I ready to hear what she has to say?

“I should focus on the positives of our relationship,” Logan said to no one.

This week, they had touched each other, even kissed, more than they ever did in three years. For that, Logan knew he had to be grateful.

Hours from now, they would go their separate ways. She would go back to France to resume whatever job she said she did. Logan would remain in Atlanta, without the woman he loved.

Loved?

Yes, loved.

Logan didn’t want to recall how his anger had caused him to distance himself from Marie, to hate on her. Perhaps he had been jealous that her job was so important to her that she couldn’t tell him anything about it, leaving him wondering. Perhaps being a translator was all she really did, and he had read too much into her life, assumed too much, imagined too much.

Logan shook his head. “You want me to believe that you’re just a garden variety translator? Not after that night.”

It was still a blur in his mind. In the comfort of his own home next week, Logan would try to process what went on that night, when they were both nearly killed.

Maybe it was best if he and Marie never got back together again after this.

On the other hand, Logan knew that they both still had feelings for each other. Whether they were new feelings or revived from their dating days and the honeymoon year of their marriage, he could not be sure. But he knew that, if he could have a second chance with Marie, he would take it.

I want her back.

But does she want to come back to me?

Logan picked up a sock from the closet floor and stuffed it into his suitcase. He decided he would launder everything when he got home to Atlanta. He wasn’t like Marie, who had separate compartments in her suitcase so that her dirty clothes did not mix with her clean clothes. Sometimes she even used a large trash bag to put her dirty clothes in before she packed her suitcase to go home from their vacations. And she would never throw her shoes on top of the clothes. Shoes went into their own bags.

Is she still like that today or has she changed some?

Logan zipped up the suitcase and rolled it to the door. He debated whether to make another sweep of the stateroom—like Marie would.

He almost did, but his phone rang.

It was Mrs. Ping. Her voice sounded unsure and excited at the same time, and Logan prayed that she wouldn’t throw a curveball at him.

Logan took a deep breath and listened.

Ah, Mrs. Ping wanted to go see the flowers at Butchart Gardens. She said she would be safe with the captain.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Logan wasn’t sure his ears were working right. “Did you say the captain? As in the captain of this ship?”

“My companion for the day. He’s widowed, as I am.”

“Is he? How did you know that?”

“We’ve talked.”

“Talked?” Logan almost asked her when she had the time to talk with the captain, and then he remembered all the times he and Marie had taken Jonas off Mrs. Ping’s hands and given her a lot of time off.

So that’s what she’s been doing with all that extra time. Chatting with the captain.

“He’s seen me around. We eat dinner at the same time as he does, remember?” Mrs. Ping said.

“We do? I don’t recall.”

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