Page 21 of Claimed By the Deep
"I'm uncertain."
"Tomorrow," she states, not asking permission. "I'll return tomorrow."
Before I can respond, she opens the throttle and heads into the harbor. I watch until Deep Pockets vanishes among the forest of masts and moorings, then sink into the depths and begin my long swim back to familiar darkness.
As I descend, a single question circles through my mind: Have I just experienced the most beautiful mistake of my life?
Meridian
TEN
Iwake up Monday morning with a plan: get back to work and prove this wasn't all a dream.
By noon, I'm not diving. I'm anchored in international waters, engine off, staring into the blue-green depths like some lovesick teenager.
"Cyreus," I call out to the empty ocean, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop myself. "Are you there?"
Nothing. Just waves against Deep Pockets' hull and gulls bitching about the lack of fish scraps.
I wait three hours before admitting defeat and heading home empty-handed.
Tuesday, I tell myself I'm scouting new dive sites, but I end up in the same damn spot, calling his name to water that gives me nothing back but silence.
"I know you're down there somewhere," I say to the depths. "I just... I need to know if it was real."
The ocean doesn't answer.
I try making an actual dive, but I can't concentrate worth a damn. The water feels empty in ways that make my chest ache. Every piece of kelp that brushes against my leg makes me jump, hoping for something that doesn't come. I surface after twenty minutes with nothing but growing frustration.
Wednesday morning, Fergus is waiting on the dock as I load my gear.
"Going diving?" he asks, eyeing my equipment bag.
"Maybe. Depends on conditions."
"Been heading out the last couple days. Not bringing much back, though."
I pause in loading my tank. "You keeping tabs on me?"
"Harbor master mentioned you've been burning a lot of fuel without much to show for it." Fergus steps closer, lowering his voice. "Everything okay, Meri?"
"Fine. Just... exploring new areas."
"In international waters?"
The fact that he knows where I've been anchoring makes my stomach clench. "How do you—"
"Deep Pockets has a very distinctive silhouette. And you're not the only one with binoculars in this harbor." He studies my face with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. "Meri, if you're in some kind of trouble—"
"I'm not in trouble." I finish loading my gear and step aboard. "I'm just... working through some things."
"Wantcompany?"
The offer is tempting, but the last thing I need is Fergus witnessing me have one-sided conversations with the ocean. "Thanks, but I work better alone."
"I know you do. Just remember that working alone doesn't mean you have to figure everything out alone."
Despite his words, I head out again. I drop anchor in the same spot, cut the engine, and wait. The water is perfectly clear, visibility all the way to the sandy bottom. If there was anything—anyone—down there, I'd be able to see them.
