Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

I DIDN’T MEAN to bump into her.
I swear I didn’t.

But life—especially the kind built on cursed watches and mysterious old men—doesn’t always care what you mean.

I turned from the railing after what felt like an eternity and walked. Slowly. Aimlessly. Pretending I wasn’t paying attention to every sound behind me, trying not to wonder if she was still laughing at his jokes.

And then—thud.

Books. Everywhere.

Not the same book—these were different. A stack of hardcovers wrapped in twine, now scattered across the deck like spilled thoughts.

I looked up.

And there she was.

Evelyn.

Face flushed. Lips slightly parted. Eyes locked on mine.

“Oh—” she said.

“I’m—sorry,” I said at the exact same time.

We both paused.
She laughed. This time, quieter. Not for show.
Just a small, surprised sound. Like her soul chuckled before her mouth did.

I knelt down. So did she. We reached for the same book.
Of course we did.

Fingers brushed.

I didn’t pull away.

Neither did she.

“Mr…?” she asked as I handed her the last book.

“Johnson,” I said. “Just Johnson. No title, unfortunately.”

She smirked. “Miss Blackmore. But I assume you knew that.”

Caught.
Red-handed.
Soul-naked.

I cleared my throat. “Your book. From yesterday. I found it on the bench. I meant to return it but… I guess fate took care of that for me.”

“Well,” she said, straightening her spine, “fate has a curious way of intervening.”

She adjusted the twine. A strand of hair fell loose from her pin. She didn’t notice.
I did.

“Do you walk the decks often, Mr. Johnson?”

“Only when I’m looking for someone,” I said before I could stop myself.

Another pause.

Her lips curled slightly at the edges. Not a full smile—just the idea of one.

“And did you find them?” she asked.

I looked at her.

Dead in the eyes.

“I might have,” I said.

She didn’t answer. Not right away.
Instead, she looked out over the railing. The ocean stretched forever. The sun began to break through the clouds, casting gold across the waves.

And then she said, softly—

“Well. Then you’d better not lose them.”

She turned.

And walked away.

Books in hand.
Hair still loose.
Not looking back.

But I swear to God—

She was smiling.