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Calm after the storm
D.: Evenin.
D.: Beautiful night. It's so still.
D.: I should stop talking. You're obviously enjoying the view.
H.: No...it's okay.
D.: You sure?
H.: I'm just a little preoccupied.
D.: By this?
H.: No. I mean, yeah, it's gorgeous, there's nothing like the middle of the ocean at three a.m., but no, not that.
D.: Can I ask?
H.: Well...
D.: You don't have to tell me. I can just sit here quietly and enjoy the empty deck.
H.: My husband. He's sick.
D.: I'm sorry.
H.: No, not like that. Not terminal. He's just got ocean sickness.
D.: Oh.
H.: So I'm out here.
H.: When we got married -- fourteen years ago, if you can believe that -- we honeymooned on a cruise line. We went through the Caribbean. It was...it was great. We stopped on this cay -- I don't remember the name -- and he taught me to dance. It was in the torchlight, middle of the night. ... I'm sorry. This is none of your business.
D.: No, no. You're right.
D.: But I make a good listener. You can pretend I'm an empty deck chair.
H.: (smiles)
H.: We made love for the first time as man and wife that night. Right under a tiki torch. Close to the water, but not really on the beach. I don't think anyone saw us, but we didn't care. Sort of reckless, but not really. More like...swept away. ... We've had a rough few years. I sort of messed around on him. He was really hurt. Then he did the same thing to me, and I was hurt. Now we're both in this precarious position of...whatever this is we're in. And we're on the same cruise again. I think hoping we'll end up under another torch.
D.: But it's not happening, is it.
H.: (shakes head)
D.: I'm sorry.
H.: I think it was obvious to us before we bought the tickets. He loves me very much. I don't think he wanted to say what we both knew...that there was no possible way of fixing this. That both of us were too hurt, and not in good enough shape to fix each other.
H.: I'm sorry.
D.: Don't be.
H.: What are you doing?
D.: You just looked like you needed a hug. I didn't mean to...
H.: No, I'm sorry. I did need one. I do.
D.: I feel like I'm contributing to the dissolution of your marriage. Fourteen years. That's an awful lot of time to be thrown away.
H.: We would have ended up here if I were single.
D.: But you're not. You're married.
H.: I told you my husband was sick? He is, a little. But he's sick of me, too.
D.: If he knew you were here, in my cabin, right now -- what would he do?
H.: I think he'd go find himself a waitress or something.
D.: Really?
H.: Really.
D.: What's it like? To know it's over, but not quite ended?
H.: It's...I don't know. It's ...
H.: ... it's peaceful.
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