The tailgate of the Tahoe closed behind the last bag, sealing it in with a heavy thud that echoed through the garage. Between the concrete pillars, the ship was still visible, distant now, but unmistakable. The same view we’d had three days earlier, rising from the port like a floating city. Back then, it shimmered with promise. Now it only loomed, silent and gleaming, as if laughing at the marriages it had quietly rewrit...

Back in the hallway, the numbered plaque on the door of Jamal’s cabin stared me in the face; cold, unblinking, indifferent. The door had slammed shut behind us, and with it, the trance I’d been drifting in for the past hour cracked wide open. It all felt like a dream; blurry, unreal, the kind that makes you question whether it actually happened or if your body just made it up. My breath came in short, uneven pulls. My leg...

Jamal pulled Pam to her feet without a word, using the kind of effortless strength you’d expect from a man built like a Greek god. She rose slowly in front of him, flushed and unsteady, her body loose and yielding in a way that only total surrender can produce. He reached for the hem of her tank top and began peeling it upward. Her arms lifted above her head, the fabric dragging across her sweat-damp skin, catching briefl...