The Voyages Of The S.S. Amore
stars beginning to shine in the bright, moonlit sky.
“I know we've had some rough times, Becca,” Victor began as he placed his hand over hers on the ship's railing. “I know I've been the cause of most of them....”
“All of them,” Becca replied, rolling her eyes. She felt his hand stiffen for a brief moment. Then he relaxed and sighed.
“Okay, all of them.”
“Maybe I caused a couple,” She replied, looking up at him coyly. “One or two. No more than that.”
“No matter who caused them...”
“No matter who,” he said, raising his voice slightly before relaxing again. “We're here now. This is our fourth honeymoon. Our fourth try at finally getting this marriage to work and I have a feeling it's going to happen this time. No more lies, no more sneaking around...”
“No more secretaries?” Becca asked.
“And no more tennis instructors.” Victor said pointedly.
For a moment Becca wanted to turn and storm away but then, like a trout who finally gives in to the persistence of an expert angler, she relaxed and leaned against Victor's chest. She'd had enough of the constant fighting and tension. Maybe now was the time to bury the hatchet and finally forgive Victor. Ever since they had met two years ago at that topless pancake joint, their lives had been a roller coaster of passionate love and unmitigated hate. Two years of cheating, laughing, lying, and screaming. Yes, maybe it was time to forgive him his foolish dalliances. And maybe, if her luck didn't run out, she could forgive herself.
She gazed up into his steel blue eyes and then down to his full, slightly moist lips. He held her in his strong arms and pulled her closely. Slowly, they leaned towards each other as their eyes slowly closed.
“Get out of the way”
A crowd of panicking vacationers charged up the deck, knocking the two lovers apart and throwing them to the ground. Victor grabbed at Becca, trying to use her to shield himself from the kicking feet of the terrified herd.
“What the hell is going on?” Becca screamed, tears of fright and pain welling in her eyes. A bloody and bruised porter, quick on the heels of stampeding mass, turned and yelled one nonsensical word in the panicked couples direction.