Chapter 12

12

Time is such a funny thing. On a ship, time works differently. We measure the days by events, schedules, food, and performances. Dates lose their meaning, and seasons pass like the tides.

But in my tiny bunker, just below sea level, land passing by on the horizon, it could have been any day. Any time. Any month. Any season. None of it mattered.

I didn't think I was a wallower. I absolutely didn't think I would be the kind of woman to not get out of bed for two days because of a breakup. But I couldn't face the world.

Urduja stepped up to be the ultimate wingwoman. She brought me chocolate and alcohol and covered for me with Fernanda.

The good thing about cruise life is the closed environment. If you're sick, you are to stay in your cabin. No exceptions. Outbreaks of spreadable illnesses are bad for business, and so I took my two days to process my loss.

Relationships ending are a grief process. Two parts. You grieve what you had that's gone, and you grieve for what you never got to have together. How long had I known Claudia? Well, time is a funny thing, isn't it? Those few weeks could have been my whole life. I gave her all I had—my body, my love, affection and soul.

Did time really matter? Not to me. She'd seen parts of me that I hid from myself, and she in turn had opened her box of memories that I doubted even she had flicked through in years. We were connected. We were real. Honest. And it was gone.

Six a.m. Another early wake-up call from the Captain's announcements. It took me longer than it should to focus. I'd lost all sense of awareness. I'd been awake since just after 3 a.m. with my mind racing over and over. It'd been three days since Claudia had left the ship. Three days that had felt like three weeks or even three years.

I was still in shock from the callousness of her departure. Maybe that was just the anger talking. I knew the Ice Queen act wasn't the real Claudia. It was a mask she wore to hide her feelings. But it didn't make it any easier, and as my thoughts spiralled, I found myself asking which was the true mask. Either way, my stomach ached as much as my chest, and being in a windowless cabin the size of a garden shed wasn't helping.

I hadn't been to work since she'd left, but today I was scheduled for a day off anyway, so I didn't feel guilty about leaving the ship. None of the crew ever wanted to stay on board when they didn't have to, even if the port of call wasn't particularly interesting. Today, however, was Paris. Le Harve to be precise, a small coastal town two and a bit hours drive from Paris. The most romantic city in the world, supposedly, as if I needed this kick in the stomach.

I'd booked my coach ticket days ago—well, two tickets.

But Claudia wasn't here to go with me, and who wanted to walk around Paris alone, not just alone but heartbroken and alone? A glutton for punishment, it would seem.

The fantasy I'd had since booking the tickets of what our day in Paris was going to be like was now completely and utterly shattered. How was I going to walk along the Seine holding hands with the woman I was in love with if the woman I was in love with wasn't there?

But the truth was my sanctuary had become my prison, and I just couldn't stay in this room any longer. And walking around the ship with guests asking questions or wanting me to stop for general chit-chat about their travels wasn't on my list of things to do for the day, either.

Sometimes, there was no better feeling than sitting down in one of the ship's bars for a drink with an elderly couple as they showed you pictures of their grandkids, but I didn't have the heart for that today.

I hopped in the shower, hoping a cold wash would help me make a decision. Besides, it was always harder to cry in the shower when your body could only focus on the fact that it was turning into an ice cube. And I was determined not to start my day with tears. But I did feel the numb. I felt the cold water grip my skin like my pain gripped my heart. I held my breath under the stream just so I could feel alive as I was forced to take deep, gasping breaths when my lungs screamed for relief.

I slipped into something I wouldn't usually be seen out in public in and was changed and ready just in time for the Cruise Director to announce that the coaches were ready for boarding. I took this as a sign. I knew I was grasping at straws, but it helped me get out the door.

I grabbed a coffee from the barista on my way out, and I didn't even have the energy to force a smile as I made my way through the ship's security and onto the coach.

Two and a half hours is not a huge amount of time. In that time, you can watch a movie, listen to an album, or scroll through an endless amount of social media. But with my mind not focused, two and a half hours seemed like an excessive amount of time for a day trip I wasn't even looking forward to. I watched the digital clock at the front of the coach take its sweet time to get through the numbers.

What the fuck was I doing?

Fortunately, since Claudia wasn't there, the seat next to me was unoccupied, so I could at least mope in silence.

I stepped off the coach, setting a reminder on my phone of when to head back for the return journey. If I missed the final evening embarkment, I'd be in serious trouble, no matter what port I was in. So, I always had a plan in place to ensure I never ended up being one of those people frantically waving at their cruise ship to come back and pick them up while the captain sailed off into the horizon without a care in the world.

That was the last thing I needed right now, to be an American stranded in France.

I walked through the gardens toward the Eiffel Tower. I was genuinely trying to focus on the good, admire the beauty of this attraction and feel the awe of seeing it in real life. But how can you do that when men were trying to sell you repackaged tap water and keychains every three steps?!

Breathe, Raven. Breathe.

I took out my phone and took a few snaps. My selfie was pathetic so I tried again. I put on my best natural smile. Much better, so I posted it to Instagram. I didn't know if Claudia would check my account. I doubted it, and I hated myself for that pettiness that wanted her to look and think I was doing just fine without her when we all knew I absolutely was not. I looked at my phone to see where the next "big thing" was to see. The Arc de Triomphe was 30 minutes away, so I set my directions and headed off.

The thing no one tells you about Paris is that the city is huge. Overwhelmingly so. And the big attractions are few and far between in comparison. Don't get me wrong. There are plenty of Parisian cafes, cute side streets and architecture to admire, but the main attractions that put Paris on the map are a hefty walk between each one.

But a walk can be good for the soul. The repetitive action of simply moving your feet. One in front of the other. Step by step until you get somewhere new, and you didn't even notice how you got there.

I gave myself a pep talk as I weaved through the streets and ran across the roads. Traffic lights don't seem to have the same meaning in Paris as in the rest of the world, but today I didn't have the patience or the inclination to be cautious as I stepped out into weaving traffic and honking horns. I finally made it to the Arc in one piece and circled around it, taking a few photos. It was fine, I guess. Nothing special, but it lived up to its name.

I headed down the road to walk along the Champs-élysées. I have to admit, that was something I was excited about. I loved a good shopping spree, and it would certainly help take my mind off things.

Oh, how wrong I was. Even window shopping on this street seemed expensive. Of course, I know I was on one of the most revered shopping streets in the world, but I would struggle to even get a coffee down here. I didn't expect there to be any bargains per se, but items in the sale were still three times the price as back home.

I sulked off the street, feeling disappointed. I decided to take a coffee break and headed to a picturesque cafe a few streets over. I was going to treat myself regardless of how much it cost.

As I sat sipping my expensive but almost worth it coffee, I watched the world go by. I was thinking about the loves and lives of those around me.

For me, I felt as if my world was crashing a little. Every thought I'd had about my future with Claudia was no longer true. Every feeling I'd had was crushed. And any prospect of experiencing the incredible world around us with the one I loved was gone. I understood her reasoning to an extent, but shouldn't it have been a conversation? Did it really have to be that cold of a goodbye? Hadn't I meant more to her than that?

I battled with my inner demons, rejection flairing up to see the worst side of myself in full view. And yet, to everyone else I was just the extra sipping coffee in the background.

This helped me put my feelings into perspective just a tiny bit. Sure, I was crushed and dealing with something awful, but aren't all those around me right now also experiencing the same in their own way? I finished my coffee and paid the bill.

I made my way down the river, watching as the water glistened in the afternoon sun. I walked around the outside of Notre Dame, wrestling other tourists for a good spot to take a couple of photos. Then I walked across the bridge to the other side of the river, stopping to get some macaroons to go on the way to the Louvre. French macaroons cannot be beaten, and as it was the first thing I'd eaten in days, they tasted even better.

Although I didn't pay to go into the art museum, I did explore the gift shop and the other public areas inside. It was busy, and I knew I'd be stressing about the time if I went to check out the Mona Lisa. But what I did see was enough, especially since I'd recently finished reading the Davinci Code, and for about ten minutes I was convinced I could walk the Rose Line and follow Robert Langdon's footsteps.

Time was pressing on, so I went to spend my final hour in the Jardin des Tuileries next to the Louvre. This place was stunning. Even with a broken heart, I could see, feel, and smell the beauty of these gardens. I sat on a chair next to the fountain and watched the ducks bathing and protectively circling their babies whenever a kid got too close to the water. For a moment, I felt genuine bliss at the peace surrounding me.

It felt as I had the moment in the Orkneys. Nature has a way of doing that, humbling you. Bringing you back to your senses when the world seems too overwhelming to handle.

The coach stop was too far to walk, or rather, I was too tired to be able to walk fast enough and make it in time, so I jumped on the metro to go back to the Eiffel Tower. The metro was incredibly loud and rickety, although I enjoyed the fact my mind was being distracted by something even louder than my thoughts.

I made it back to the coach in time and settled down with a canned cocktail I'd bought at the corner shop. It was cold and refreshing, exactly what I needed to unwind after an emotionally draining day. As the coach drove along back to the ship, I reflected on my day. My visit to Paris was underwhelming. Was I suffering from Paris syndrome, or was I just too dejected to see why Paris was held in such high esteem?

I had a strong suspicion that had I come here with Claudia by my side, fingers entwined as we perused the Parisian city streets together, I wouldn't have felt an ounce of disappointment.

I guess the true beauty of the most romantic city in the world was not the place itself, but it would always be about who you shared it with.