Cabin 712 Never Existed

They met on the first night of the cruise, leaning on the rail as the ocean swallowed

the lights behind them. He was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt intentional.

She liked that. It made the space between words feel safe. By the second night,

they were inseparable. Late dinners, slow walks on deck, conversations that drifted from childhood

memories to secrets they’d never said out loud. He told her this trip was about starting

over. She believed him. On the third night, the ship went dark. Just for a few seconds.

The music stopped. The ocean disappeared. When the lights came back on, everyone laughed.

Everyone except him. His face had changed. He said he needed air and vanished