Willy stood behind the counter of his shop, systematically piecing together new lures for his upcoming trip. It was easy work, something he'd done so many times before that he didn't have to put any thought into it at all. Which was good, because he didn't have a thought to spare. They were all tied up with Ellen.
She was right, of course. He knew that. He knew he'd been away too much the last year, that it wasn't fair to her, that she deserved better. He wanted to give her better. He wanted to give her the world.
That's why this was so hard for him. What Ellen didn't realize is that he was doing all of this for her. Working his youth away to build up the business, so that he'd be able to provide for her when he took it over. Give her the security to follow her dreams, and give him the opportunity to be there while she did. This latest Joja deal was a huge win for the shop; if he played his cards right, he could probably afford to hire another angler soon. Then he'd be able to work the shop instead of the sea, and spend his nights with Ellen.
And after last night, he was categorically desperate to spend more nights with Ellen.
He'd never imagined it could be that good – and Yoba knows how many times he'd imagined it. She was so soft, so warm, her body fitting together with his so perfectly he'd swear they were made for each other. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it – about swallowing her soft whimpers as he lost himself in her heat, of bringing her to the edge over and over until she wore the dazed flush of a woman fully sated. Now that he'd finally had a taste of her, he was starving for more.
But not for another month, he reminded himself gloomily, narrowly missing his thumb as he jammed a spinner onto a hook.
The inside door that connected the shop to their apartment swung open, and his grandpa hobbled out, face scrunched up in the frown he never seemed to lose these days. He'd never been a particularly happy-go-lucky fellow, but growing up he'd at least be good for a joke or two. Now jokes were off the table entirely, along with appreciation of food, hobbies, interests...basically any kind of joy whatsoever. Willy knew the old man was in pain, but it still ate at him to witness the depths of misery his illness had driven him to.
He was just waiting to die.
"Afternoon Pappy," Willy said lightly, forcing a smile to his lips. It wasn't returned. His grandfather grunted in response, slowly making his way across the shop to settle heavily into the rocking chair in the corner.
"I picked up a new technique for making these," he continued, holding up one of the lures. "If you stick a piece of colored foil on before the tab it catches the sunlight when it spins. Really gets their attention."
His grandpa glanced at the lure impassively before turning back to the door, and Willy fought the urge to sigh. He hadn't expected praise, but acknowledgment would have been nice. Not like this was the first time, though. He hadn't even acknowledged the massive haul Willy brought in yesterday, or the sack of cash from selling overseas. He barely acknowledged his existence anymore, except to give him his next orders.
It was lonely. And Willy was so, so tired of being lonely. Ellen was the only light in his life these days, and he never even got to see her. For as much as she missed him, he'd bet his next catch that he missed her more. So many long, dark nights had been spent laying awake, imagining her voice in the crashing of the waves, her face in the stars above him. Wondering if she was smiling, happy. Wondering if some other man was making her that way.
He couldn't do it again, he realized with a start. Not now. He needed...he needed time with her, time to socialize, to talk with people about anything other than business. He couldn't spend his life on a boat, when he had a life here he wanted so badly he could taste it. It wasn't fair to him. It wasn't fair to her.
The Joja deal was big, but there would be others later. Right now he needed to be home.
"Pappy, I..." he began hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was never good at saying no to the man. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just go for it. "I can't do this next job."
That got his attention. Crinkled eyes settled on him, weary but still sharp as the edge of a blade. "Why not?"
"Because I just got back, and...I just need a break. I'm going crazy out there by myself all the time," he said, deciding it was probably better if he didn't bring Ellen into it. Somehow he imagined his grandpa would be less than sympathetic, considering how little he cared for Willy's girlfriend.
The older man's eyes narrowed. "You've never had a problem before. So, what, you spend one night smashing pissers with the Hayes girl and now you can't stop?"
Willy blinked, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks despite himself. "Wha...how..."
"I'm old, I'm not blind," he grouched, shaking a hand dismissively. "I don't care what you do, so long as you keep our shop going. We need this job."
"There will be other jobs," Willy argued. Sure, the Joja offer was huge, but their terms were incredibly demanding. He wasn't sure he could even pull off the haul they were asking for in the time provided. "I don't feel good about this one."
The old man stood, shuffling over to the counter to put one bony hand on Willy's shoulder. "Boy, this is the biggest opportunity our family has had in the five generations we've owned this shop. I know you won't throw our legacy away so easily. I raised you better."
The words hit hard, and Willy dropped his head in defeat, knowing he was powerless to deny him. His mind flicked to the mermaid pendant tucked away in his room, waiting for the day when he'd be able to fully devote himself to the woman he loved.
He'd take this one last job – and then he was going to marry Ellen.
Willy tipped back his beer, sighing as he stared at the door to the saloon impatiently. She'd be here soon enough, he told himself – she had to go to that baby shower, then help her pa with the planting – but every minute he had to wait was one less he got to spend with her before he left. Precious seconds to tide him over for the next month of loneliness.
A crazy thought crossed his mind – what if she came with him? The boat was big enough for two, and she'd always wanted to travel. He could take her to his favorite towns along the coast, to that tiny island with the white beaches. Just the two of them, together.
He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had formed, taking another swig of his beer. He wasn't going on some luxury cruise. If he was going to make his deadline, he'd have to have a rod in the water from dawn til dusk and then some. It was going to be nothing short of grueling. There would be no time for sightseeing or enjoying each other. Besides, she had that audition, and who was he to ask her to give up her ambitions for him? He couldn't even manage to give up this one trip.
Yoba, he hated this.
The sun had just begun to set when the door to the saloon opened with a loud jangle, and Willy would have sworn the room itself got brighter. Ellen had that power to her, this undeniable charisma that poured off of her in waves, sucked him in completely with just a glance his way. He'd never had a chance but to love her.
Her lips turned up in a smile as her gaze met his, but it was muted somehow. She looked tired. He reasoned that it was the lack of sleep and manual labor that did it, but the twist in his gut as she crossed the room said there was more to it than that.
Willy wrapped his arm around her waist the moment she sat down, pulling her close to kiss that inscrutable smile. He was relieved to find she relaxed into it right away, her lips soft and yielding. He'd been worried that she would still be upset over their argument earlier, but the way she kissed him back said that it was all water under the bridge, and he was once again thankful that his girl wasn't the type to hold a grudge.
All too soon he felt the compulsion to pull back, however, conscious of the fact that they were sitting in full view of the rest of the bar. Everyone knew they were together, but public displays still made him uncomfortable.
"Hey," she greeted him simply, her cheeks an alluring shade of pink. He couldn't help the small grin that spread across his face, knowing that he was the reason for it.
"Hey. How was the shower?"
Ellen rolled her eyes, flagging down the barkeep for a drink of her own. "It was an exercise in self-indulgence that I'm never repeating again. Not even for my own kids."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You'd better. Someone's going to need to stick up for my wishes on this. Yoba knows Jodi and Robin will just do whatever the hell they want," she said with a laugh, taking a sip of the beer placed in front of her. "So, what were you up to while I was trapped at Caroline's circle jerk?"
Willy snorted into his glass. Ellen never was one to mince words, but he'd bet that particular euphemism came from Robin. "Nothing as exciting as all that. Took a nap, did some laundry. Made a few dozen new lures."
Her smile faded as she looked down, running her finger along the rim of her glass. "Getting ready to go, then."
The flatness of her voice sent a stab of pain through his chest, even as he couldn't deny her words.
She lifted her glass, downing the rest in several large gulps. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, Ellen stared into the receding foam for a long moment before turning back to him, eyes filled with resolve.
"Can we go somewhere to talk?"
The walk back to his place was quiet, and filled with trepidation – from his side, anyway. He didn't know what was going on in Ellen's head, since she kept her face blank, not giving anything away. It worried him. She was usually so easy to read, with those expressive eyes and heart on her sleeve. When had she learned how to bottle everything up so well?
She stayed that way until they reached the shop, passing through and upstairs to his room. Pappy was in his own room, thank Yoba – he really wasn't in the mood to deal with any arguing between those two tonight. Willy closed the door behind them as she flopped down on his bed, scrubbing her hands over her face before turning to look up at him.
"I love you. You know that right?"
"Yeah..." he replied warily, legs stiff as he took a seat beside her.
"I love you so much. More than anything. And that's...that's why I need you here. With me."
Her voice sounded so small in that moment. He reached out, cupping the silk of her cheek with his chapped hand. She leaned into his touch, not seeming to care how rough it was. How such a gorgeous creature could have fallen for him, he'd never know.
"I love you too. And I promise, I'm going to be around more. Things are just...with Pappy sick, I..."
"I know," she interrupted, grabbing his free hand with both of hers. "I know it's been hard for you. But it's been hard for me too, and...I just can't take it anymore."
She sighed heavily, averting her eyes. "I don't have anything here but you, Willy. I can't...I can't just keep waiting forever. It's tearing me apart."
"Not forever," he argued, lifting her chin until she met his gaze again. He needed her to know this, to understand. "I promise, Elle. Things will calm down soon, and when they do I'll make it so you never have to wait again."
He thought again of the mermaid pendant, nestled safely in the top drawer of his dresser. He could give it to her now. Wipe away that sorrow on her face, see her eyes light up when he asked her to be his wife. But no – that wouldn't be fair to her. He couldn't propose to her, then leave her for a month. She deserved better than a fleeting moment of joy.
"Please..." she choked out, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. "Please stay."
He looked down into those eyes, glassy with unshed tears, and wanted more than anything to say okay. Instead he leaned in and kissed her softly, letting his lips speak all the words he wished he could, to beg her forgiveness and promise her their future. She kissed him back and he drank in her sorrow, her heartbreak. It killed him to know he was the reason for it, but this is all he could give right now. His heart, and his promise.
He felt moisture on his cheek and pulled back, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Don't cry," he murmured. She smiled ruefully, running her fingers through his mess of hair as she leaned up to kiss him again.
There was desperation in the way they touched each other, from the sloppy movements of their lips to the way they clawed each other's clothes off, but it wasn't just fueled by pure lust. It carried an undertone of suffering, of words needed but unspoken, of the agony of goodbye. Willy ran his hands over every inch of her body, memorizing the way she felt under him, the way she tasted, the way her eyes darkened when he touched her just right. She hadn't closed them – even as she writhed with pleasure she kept her eyes focused on him, like she didn't want to miss a single expression that flitted across his face.
It was the single most intimate moment of Willy's life – but when it was over, he felt like sobbing.
Morning came too soon. Willy gazed down at the sleeping angel in his arms, every fiber of his being protesting as he carefully slid out of the bed so as not to wake her. It was selfish of him to not give her a chance to say goodbye, but they had said all they needed to the night before – and truth be told, he was afraid if he looked into her eyes, he'd lose his resolve.
Willy pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and, with a final glance at her sleeping face, turned and walked away.
The bed was empty when Ellen woke up. Her brain tried to tell her he'd just went to the bathroom, or grabbed a drink of water...but the cold sheets on his side told another story. Her legs felt like lead as she forced herself to stand, to walk to the window, to look out at the harbor where his boat was no longer tied up. To admit he had left her.
Ellen's eyes dulled as she stared out at the expanse of perfect blue before her, an all-consuming emptiness settling in.