His voice chased me down the hall to my cabin, but my head was roaring. Blood pulsed in my ears like the crashing of waves in a storm, and my heart was beating so hard I thought I might black out. My hands shook at my sides. My eyes burned.
No.
No, no, no.
This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how it ended — all of it, everything I’d worked for. It wasn’t just the crew or the tip or the next charter. It was my future. It was my name. I could see it already, hear it in the whispers between captains, in the silence from potential employers.
Unprofessional. Unstable. Emotional.
“Ember, stop.”
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I reached my cabin but walked past it, even though I knew I had nowhere to go but the end of the hall. I just hoped if I kept moving, the feelings would lose their grip. But they only got louder.
My father’s voice joined Captain Gary’s in my head. Cold. Clipped. Full of disappointment.
So this is the so-called job you’ve been so adamant about wasting your time on?
This is what you wanted me to take seriously?
This is what I was supposed to see as a valuable, stable, impressive career choice?
“Ember,” Finn said again, more firmly now, catching up, stepping into my path. He blocked the end of the hall like I had anywhere to go even if I did shove past him. “Em, look at me.”
His words nearly broke me.
“I can’t,” I gasped, voice cracking. “I can’t— I can’t fix this. I can’t—”
“Hey. Breathe. Just breathe, alright? You’re having a panic attack.”
Panic attack.
The words made sense as soon as he said them, but my insides still bucked against that truth like it was a death sentence.
Finn stepped closer, slow, hands raised like he was approaching a wild animal.
Because I was. Inside, I was thrashing. Screaming. Splintering in a thousand directions, sharp and spinning and dangerous.
Finn’s voice softened. “Can I just hug you?”
I blinked, like the words were a switch that finally cut through the ringing in my ears.
“Please,” he said. “Just… one hug. One moment.”
I was panting. I was so dizzy I felt like I could topple at any moment.
I think I nodded. I must have, because Finn gently reached for me, pulling me into him and slowly wrapping his arms all theway around me. He held me firmly, but not too tightly. He was supportive without suffocating me.
And as soon as he had me firmly in his grip, the moment I felt the permission to let him hold some of the weight…
I broke.
All the strength I’d been clinging to crumbled. My arms looped around his neck as I sagged into him, sobs bursting from me before I could stop them. I cried like I hadn’t in years, cried until I couldn’t see, until I couldn’t breathe, until all I knew was the feel of him — the steady thump of his heart, the warmth of his arms, the way his hand cradled the back of my head like I might fall apart if he let go.
He didn’t say anything. He just held me, rock steady and solid. And I didn’t need a single word.