Page 11 of Storm and Sea (Storm and Sea Saga #1)

L eo’s head throbbed as his eyes struggled to blink into focus. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and the faint hum of machinery droned in his skull. The harsh white lights and beeping monitors only heightened his disorientation.

It took him an hour of pestering the nursing staff with pointless questions before the pieces finally clicked, and he remembered how he’d ended up in the hospital. But when the memories returned, they were a blur of wind and waves and… scales.

“You signed the AMA?”

“Yes, can I go already?” Leo barked at the doctor. He’d already spent too much time in a hospital bed.

“I don’t recommend it.”

“Yes, hence the AMA. Against Medical Advice. I get it.”

“Don’t strain yourself. If you start to feel dizzy or have a lapse in memory, come right back.”

“Sure,” Leo said, knowing he’d do no such thing.

The pretty boy doctor was annoying as hell.

As he descended the hill, the smell of rain still lingered in the air, though the storm had passed. The storm that took the Vino Rosso and nearly took his life. Leo bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. He wouldn’t cry over a stupid boat. But the Vino Rosso , with her rusted hull and failing engine, was like a second home. He grew up on that boat. She’d provided for their family since before he was born. And now, because of his stupidity, she was at the bottom of the bay.

“Idiot!” Leo yelled, kicking a garbage bin, sending its contents everywhere. He regretted it instantly as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He crouched among the garbage in case he passed out, but bending so suddenly sent razors through his side, his broken ribs screaming in protest.

Breathe, you moron. You’ll figure this out.

But the words remained as empty as the waste bin that lay at his feet. What was he going to do? Without the Vino Rosso , how would they make enough to live? To pay for the home? For fucks sake, they would eat through their savings in less than a month on food alone. Feeding a family of seven wasn’t cheap.

You’ll figure it out. Come on, think.

Yet his fuzzy brain couldn’t work past the panic surging in his chest. They’d starve. They’d lose the house. Then what? Then… what?

Leo coughed hard. It was chest-deep and torture on his sore lungs. Every ragged breath was a reminder of how he’d nearly drowned. He remembered how badly it’d burned, as though he’d breathed in molten rock instead of seawater. Residual terror still bubbled in his veins at the slightest suggestion of storm clouds on the breeze.

He didn’t want to die. That became abundantly clear as death stared him down, trying to intimidate him into submission. He was terrified. But before he was forced to kneel before death’s blackened robes, someone dragged him to his feet.

Hands clutched him, pulling him through the heavy water. A smooth mouth pressed to his, parting his lips and breathing air into his lungs.

He shouldn’t have remembered those details. Leo was knocked out cold the moment the Vino Rosso tipped over, her derrick striking him in the head. Yet every detail played before him as though he were an onlooker, watching himself drown in the bay. Leo didn’t know if it was his imagination filling in the gaps or what some might call an out-of-body experience, but he remembered everything.

Almost everything.

He touched his lips, trying to unlock more. But his rescuer remained a blurry mass in his mind. When he returned to his body, he had a single fleeting image: a face with scales, green as emeralds and crimson fins catching the rain.

Then he was in a soft white bed with an annoying doctor telling him not to push himself.

“I’m losing my mind,” he said with a hysterical laugh.

Leo didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time for fantasies induced by a near-death experience. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about the creature that saved him.

“You got lucky,” he said, picking up the trash and righting the bin. “Now, forget about it. ”

Leo opened the door to his childhood home, reminding himself that he promised to fix the lower hinge, which creaked in protest.

“Ma?” he called, listening for the ever-present patter of feet from his younger siblings. The pattering increased in speed, and he was surrounded by four heads with bobbing curls.

“MA!” his sister Annetta yelled, “Leo is home!”

“Leofel Tradi!” his mother said in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, apron stained with red sauce. “You are not supposed to be out of the hospital.”

Leo waved dismissively. “I’m fine, Ma,” he said, kissing her grumpy face on the cheek. “Where is Dad?”

“He said he had a meeting with some friends. But do not change the subject, child of mine. Did Doctor Romano discharge you?”

“Of course,” Leo said with one of his flashiest smiles. “Perfect bill of health.” He kissed her head again as she sighed.

“Oh my boy, what am I going to do with you?”

“Leo, is the Vino Rosso really gone? Did she sink?” Caterina asked, her clumsy hands grabbing his shirt.

Leo picked her up. “Yes, sorellina. She’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Edgar asked, frozen at the base of the stairs. “We can’t get her back?”

Leo could hardly look at Edgar’s devastated face. At eleven and the next eldest son, he was expected to start helping Leo on the bay. He’d spoken of nothing else all winter, and Leo had even begun teaching him the basics on the docks. Now though…

“I’m sorry, Edgar. But we can’t get her back. There is nothing left to save.”

Edgar’s face turned red, and his fists clenched. “This isn’t fair. It was finally my turn.”

“I’m sorry Edgar, you know I?—”

“It was finally my turn to help, and you ruined it! Ma told you not to go out in the storm, and you didn’t listen. The Vino Rosso is gone because of you!” Edgar stomped up the stairs with glassy eyes.

“Edgar Tradi, you come apologize this instant!” Emelia shouted but was answered by the sound of a slamming door. She looked ready to chase after him, but Leo stopped her.

“It’s okay, Ma. Let him blow off some steam.”

Caterina’s lip trembled as she squeezed his shirt. She screwed up her tiny face and hugged Leo around the neck. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Caterina, and Muerello wrapped around him in a tangle of arms and tears.

“We thought you drowned,” Annetta said. At thirteen, she was old enough to understand the gravity of losing the Vino Rosso .

“No, lil’ sis. I’m alright.” He bent low, kissing each one of their curly heads and wiping stray tears.

“What are we going to do now?” Maurello asked in his innocent voice.

The question sent a pang through Leo’s stomach, and his head throbbed worse than ever. His mother saved him from answering the terrifying question.

“Upstairs! Chop chop, baths and brushed teeth. I’ll come tuck you in, and I better see butts in bed.”

The little ones protested, and only after Leo promised to read a bedtime story did they climb the stairs like a pair of pups.

“Ma, I’ll get them bathed, then come back and finish the dishes,” Annetta said.

“Take a break sis. I got it,” Leo offered.

She gave him a thankful smile before disappearing up the landing. He knew the house was still standing because she’d stepped in while he was gone.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t Dad be back?” Leo asked once she was out of earshot .

Emelia waved him off. “He might spend the night at Cicco’s.”

Leo gritted his teeth. He knew what that meant. His father would be too drunk to come home.

“Right,” Leo said, going to help with the dishes just for something to do.

Emelia grabbed a towel and dried as he washed. “Give him some time, and he’ll come back.”

“Right,” Leo said again.

This happened every time things got hard. His father ran to one of his old war buddies and drank until he passed out on their couch. Every time they lost something, anytime money was so tight it choked them like a noose—Thomasso ran.

It was never for a long time. For one or two days, he’d drink away his woes in the company of friends. After he was done, he‘d return home and help carry the burden alongside his wife and son. Still… Leo never got to run away. Leo never got to take two days or even two hours to throw a fit.

“Not that he does much anyway,” Leo mumbled, but his mother heard him.

“Leofel,” she said harshly, and that was enough for him to bow his head.

“Sorry, Ma. I’m just… I’m just tired,” he settled on because he couldn’t tell her what he was actually feeling. He couldn’t tell her that the storm that nearly killed him hadn’t gone away. It’d moved from the sky and into his chest, where it continued to rage and tear him apart.

His father did all he could at his advanced age. The man walked with a cane, for heaven’s sake. Thomasso met Emelia later in life and had Leo when he was already well into his forties. Now, with four more mouths to feed and a spinal injury that left him hobbled, Thomasso had no choice but to retire from the sea—leaving Leo to provide them with food. With a home. With the clothes on their backs.

“Go to sleep. I’ll finish,” Emelia said, and Leo noticed the dark circles under her eyes. But he understood the offer for what it was. She needed to be alone for a while.

“Night, Ma,” he said, kissing her unkempt hair.

She gave him a curt nod, and he knew neither of them would sleep tonight.

The next morning, Leo rose to the smell of seared fish, garlic, and olive oil. It took him twice as long to dress since every time he bent, his head spun so badly he had to pause for breath. Leo inspected the wound on his head and replaced the crusted rags with clean ones. It was red and messy, and the stitches were sharp and easy to see. He’d have a scar, but his hair would cover it in time.

“Idiot,” he said to himself in the mirror. He should never have gone out into that storm.

When he came downstairs, a thick slab of red tuna sizzled in the pan. The smell made his mouth fill with saliva.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, inspecting the cut of meat. It was thick and full of marbled fat—a premium cut.

“Giovanni sent Thomasso home with it.”

Leo didn’t miss the stiffness in her voice, and his shoulders tightened. They were already depending on the good nature of their friends to eat. How had they already become so desperate?

“Smells good,” he said.

Once it finished sizzling, he took the smallest cut for himself, letting his growing brothers and sisters take the bigger slices .

Leo had his boots pulled on when Emelia called from the living room.

“Giovanni said he could use some help on the docks this morning.”

Leo nodded; he was already going there. He would not let a gift like that go unpaid.

“I’m going there now—” His voice caught in his throat like he’d swallowed a handful of sand. His mother was in the living room, scissors in hand, cutting long strands of hair from Annetta’s head.

“What are you doing?” Leo gasped, watching as gorgeous curls fell to the floor. Unshed tears brimmed in Annetta’s eyes, her fists bunching up her dress.

“Locks like these go for a high price. They make wigs out of them on the mainland,” his mother replied, stone-faced.

Annetta held his stare with desperately fragile determination as if she were holding herself together with fraying seams.

“I offered,” she breathed as if the words physically hurt.

Emelia stopped cutting, resting a sorrowful hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

He couldn’t take this.

Couldn’t stand there a second longer.

Leo stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard he probably broke the only working hinge. He couldn’t bear to look at his sister’s face as her hair was cut just so they could eat.

How had he failed them so terribly?

The world spun, and he fell to one knee, bracing himself with one hand on the side of the house.

Breathe.

He had to focus. He had to get his banged-up head on straight and figure this out.

Had to… ha d to…

Green scales. Red fins. Slitted pupils stared down at him as rain traced cold paths down his cheeks.

No time for that.

But even as he chided himself, Leo couldn’t force away the memory. Hallucination? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything anymore. His chest was going to split in two—rip right down the middle, his organs exposed for the gulls.

A flash of green scales.

A crest of fins the color of blood.

Slitted eyes.

The image should have been terrifying.

Yet memories of the creature calmed something inside Leo. It made him feel safe.

He forced the image away as he stood, and his head swam. Leo braced against the wall, taking a moment to compose himself. But he didn’t rest long before forcing his legs to move in the direction of the docks.

Even as Leo caught sight of his long-time friend, relief hit him like a fresh breeze on a hot day. Atreus looked the same as ever, and if there was anyone in Leo’s life he could confide in, it was his best friend.

He snuck behind Atreus, hoping to make him jump, when his friend’s gaze locked on something further up the hill. Leo followed his stare, seeing an unfamiliar figure working at the sorting tables.

“Friend of yours?”

“Not really. But he’s my problem in a manner of speaking —Leo!”

Leo laughed, getting the exact facial expression he knew Atreus would make .

“Took you long enough. Been standing here for ten minutes.”

“Sorry, I was distra—I wasn’t expecting— what are you doing here?”

Leo lifted the barrel of mackerel beside Atreus as they made their way up the hill.

“You shouldn’t be lifting that,” his friend scolded. Leo rolled his eyes even as his ribs ached.

“Ugh, you sound like that pretty boy doctor. I’m fine.”

Atreus didn’t look convinced as they climbed the narrow path, the sound of puttering engines and gulls squawking serving as background noise. Of course, Atreus had heard about the Vino Rosso , but Leo didn’t want to discuss that. He didn’t want to talk about how stupid he’d been to go out in that storm, how lucky he was to be alive.

He was about to poke more fun at Atreus’s suggestion to help him on the boat when the figure at the sorting table finally came into focus.

Leo dropped the heavy barrel with a harsh smack on the cobble path. “Who’s that?” he breathed.

The boy had a slim build and short, wavy hair the color of pine bark. He moved with a clumsiness that reminded Leo of a toddler learning to walk but in the body of an adult. His skin was fair and would likely burn in the sun. He should have looked silly with newspaper strips shoved up his nose, yet…

“He’s… really cute,” Leo said on an exhale before he even realized the words came out of his mouth.

“Cute?” Atreus asked with an arched brow.

Leo cleared his throat, forcing his gaze down.

Get ahold of yourself.

He blamed his head injury for letting the words slip. “You know, like a puppy or something. Anyway, who is he?”

When it was clear Atreus wasn’t going to give him an answer, Leo went ahead and introduced himself. Nyel’s voice matched him perfectly—light and airy. Leo had to hide the goosebumps that snaked down his arms when Nyel said his name.

They talked briefly, and Nyel seemed genuinely interested in attending the festival. But his friend, in typical Atreus fashion, was determined to be a wet blanket and tried to get out of it. Luckily, Marina’s arrival saved Leo from making even more of a fool of himself. The red-headed wonder took the two men, leaving him alone to finish the work on the docks.

He needed the breathing room.

Of course, today. Today, of all days, is when he’d show up.

Leo hadn’t reacted to another man like that in… well, a very long time. The last boy he’d crushed on had been Pacco PiaCheli. They were childhood friends, and when they got older, Leo had to sort through a tangled mess of feelings. And when Pacco kissed him for the first and last time, Leo recognized what he was. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind where his heart lay and what he wanted. And, news flash, girls weren’t on the list. His mother would be brokenhearted, and as for his father—Leo didn’t have to consider it. That reality didn’t exist for him; he had too many responsibilities. Too many beating hearts depending on him.

All they need is for their eldest son to come out as a sodomite.

That would likely be the final nail in the Tradi family’s coffin—the same coffin Leo was desperately trying to keep them out of. No, even if relationships were on the table, the world would never accept him. Real men liked women. A man who wanted to be with another man? There was no doubt in Leo’s mind that he’d be considered “less than,” and that was putting it lightly.

Pacco kissed him and was gone. The PiaCheli family left Baia Vita for the mainland in the hope of finding work. Leo never saw or heard from him again. And that was fine by him. He didn’t need the distraction. Didn’t need to add temptation on top of everything else he was dealing with. He refused to allow Nyel to become a problem for him. Even if Nyel returned his desires, even if he wasn’t the sole provider for his family, Baia Vita would never accept it.

And Baia Vita was his home, whether Leo liked it or not.

Maybe on the mainland, they think differently.

He quickly shook himself, picking up a heavy load of fish, allowing the burning in his back and dizziness in his head to distract him. Ideas like that were pointless. Baia Vita was where his family was. Where he was needed. There wasn’t any room for fantasies about another life. This was the hand he’d been dealt. Now, he had to play.

“Play with a deck missing half the damn cards,” he mumbled, grunting as he set down the heavy load.

He’d figure it out.

He had to.

Most of the fishing boats docked early for the day. The catches were so meager they couldn’t justify the fuel for more than a couple rounds of netting. It was just as well; the Vino Rosso would never catch another fish in her life. Probably best she was now resting at the bottom of the sea rather than witnessing the fall of Baia Vita.

We’re disappearing.

And Leo’s family would be the first to vanish.

As the sun dipped behind flat rooftops, Leo rounded the corner and heard a familiar gravelly voice. But before Leo could call out to his father, a second voice spoke. Leo ducked behind a wall, listening hard.

“You’ve made the right choice, Signore Tradi. ”

“I hope our working relationship remains fruitful for us both, Signore Vincenzo,” his father wheezed.

Leo’s heart dropped, and if he had not already been leaning against the stone, he would have wobbled.

Vincenzo?

No. His father didn’t just…

Leo darted from behind his corner, needing his eyes to confirm what his ears told him. And there they were. His father, worn like an old piece of leather, leaning heavily on his cane with bloodshot eyes. And standing above him like a vulture ready to descend on the dead was Alvise Vincenzo. He wore black pants and a halfway unbuttoned white collared shirt that revealed a thick gold necklace resting on his smooth chest. His piercing blue eyes caught Leo like a fish in a gill net.

“The mighty fisherman joins us,” he greeted Leo. “Your father has made a very good investment.”

Leo turned to his dad. “What have you done?”

Thomasso Tradi looked on the verge of collapsing as he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve taken out a lease on a new boat with Signore Vincenzo. We’ve come to an agreement.”

No.

No. No. No.

Leo wanted to shout at his father, to beg him to take it back. But the triumphant twist at the edge of Alvise’s mouth told him it was too late. What was done was done.

“I’m sure you’ll have much better luck on one of my boats than your last—vessel,” he said like he hardly considered their rust bucket worthy of the title.

Leo’s throat tightened. He knew what this meant. And so did his father.

Alvise sauntered to him, shoes too shiny in the dim light. He leaned close as he passed. “I’ll be seeing you around a lot more, my pet.”

And he was gone, leaving Leo alone in the alley with his father. Seconds ticked by like hours.

“Why?” he rasped, his eyes stinging. “You know what that man is.”

“I’m sorry, Leofel. But it’s what we have to do.”

Leo knew this was their last option. He knew that, given time, he’d likely have come to the same conclusion. Still, he hated his father for it. Hated him for being so old. For leaving the burden of a large family resting on Leo’s shoulders.

His thoughts must have shown on his face because when his father spoke again, his voice was more hoarse and broken than ever. “You probably hate me, and I cannot blame you. And if you ran away from all this, if you took the next barge to the mainland and never looked back, I also wouldn’t blame you.”

Leo had to swallow the profanity that rested on his tongue. He locked onto the black shark tooth hanging from his father’s neck. The tooth itself wasn’t extraordinary, but his grandmother had woven the leather into a beautifully braided cord. What did his father do to deserve that honor? Leo never heard the story, no matter how many times he’d asked for it. Probably because it was so underwhelming, his father was ashamed.

And now, here Leo was, definitely old enough to be considered a man, yet no tooth rested on his chest. Had he not earned the right to have it around his neck? Was providing for their family since he was big enough to hoist a net not enough?

And now, his spineless father had the gall to suggest Leo would abandon them.

“How dare you?” Leo hissed. “How dare you even say that?”

The image of long curly strands falling to the floor pierced his brain like an iron poker. Leo turned away, intending to stomp home and lock himself in his room. He paused.

“Don’t come home. Stay with Signore Cicco again tonight. Make sure to drink enough for me, too.” He walked away, leaving his father behind.

All night, blue eyes raked over Leo’s body, appraising him like a pig at auction. The memory alone staved off sleep, dread rooting itself in every layer of his skin. Alvise tried once or twice before to coax Leo onto his ‘guest list.’ His collection of human pets who frolicked around his estate, wearing jewels and silks. Leo didn’t know if it was his golden hair or the unique shade of his eyes; all he knew was he’d caught the attention of the most dangerous man on the island.

Instead of giving him the shark-tooth necklace, his father helped Alvise slip a jewel-studded collar around Leo’s neck.

Now, all he could do was wait for Vincenzo to pull on the leash.

When sleep finally accepted him in its hold, Leo dreamt of dark water and flashing lights in the sky. Of crunching metal and sinking into the abyss.

Smoke-filled eyes.

Green scales.

Claws and fangs.

Leo gasped awake, sweat rolling down the side of his face.

It’d been over a week since the accident, and still, he woke every morning this way.

I need to talk to someone about this. Get this idiotic idea out of my head .

There was only one person he could rattle off his nighttime delusions to. Leo quickly dressed, not bothering with the bandages on his head. He hardly felt dizzy anymore and didn’t care if anyone saw the stitches. What Leo needed was to talk. For someone to tell him he was being crazy and put these visions of sea monsters to rest.

Was monster even the right word?

He didn’t understand what his dreams were telling him. But monster didn’t feel right. Because when he lost himself in that otherworldly face, Leo wasn’t scared.

“Nyel, is Atreus around?” Leo hollered up the hill to the sorting bins.

“I saw him walk to the beach, probably taking a break. Everything, okay?” Nyel shouted back, and Leo snorted in his effort to hold back a laugh. Nyel had the newspaper stuffed up his nose again, and he sounded like a duck with a head cold.

“Yeah, it’s all good, just want to talk to him.”

All week, Leo had done everything in his power to stay away from Nyel. But the odd jobs he’d managed to scrape usually involved dirty work on the docks; thus, he and Nyel saw a lot of each other.

He was kind.

Kind in an innocent way that called Leo in, like a lighthouse beacon guiding his ship to port. There was something about him. Maybe his eyes? The golden flecks mixed in a background of honey brown were familiar in a way Leo couldn’t explain.

He tried not to ponder it as he searched the shoreline. Finding Atreus’s footprints in the sand, he jogged, spotting his friend right away.

“Hey, Atreus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Leo said, then spotted a second figure. A dangerous tension pulled at the air, and the wind fell still between the two men as they stared off at one another. The stranger was tall and built like a warhorse. A hood covered the majority of his face, but Leo was able to spot one detail—a single milky eye.

“Leo, I’ll meet you at the docks in a minute,” Atreus said, and the warning in his voice only made Leo plant his feet. He wasn’t about to leave Atreus with this guy, whoever he was.

But it didn’t come to that because the stranger turned on his heel and was gone behind the rocks in seconds.

“What the hell was that about?” Leo asked, unable to shake the palpable heaviness in the air.

“Nothing. What’s up?” Atreus asked, letting out a too-long breath as though he’d been too afraid to release it.

Leo didn’t bother to push. When Atreus wasn’t ready to talk about something, nothing Leo could do or say would get him to budge. The man could hold a secret.

“I, uh, just wanted to vent some stuff. It’s stupid, and you’re obviously busy.”

“No. No. Let’s sit. I could use a distraction,” Atreus said, plopping in the sand.

Leo joined him. “It’s really dumb.”

“But you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Atreus waited, ready to listen.

“Do you believe in, like, sea monsters?”

“Sea monsters?”

“Well, kinda.” Leo tried to piece together his memories and paint a cohesive picture. “Not like underwater dragons and shit, more like—sea people?”

“Mermaids?”

“I think?”

“Like the statue in the square?” Atreus offered.

“Not exactly, but kind of? ”

Leo didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but watching Atreus drop his head in defeat wasn’t it.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… man, I can’t catch a break.”

Leo didn’t know what he meant by that so he continued.

“When I got caught in that storm, and the Vino Rosso capsized, I was thrown into the water, and I… I think something saved me. Someone?”

Leo recounted the series of events exactly as he remembered them—or at least as he believed he remembered. At this point, he wasn’t sure what his mind was making up to fill the gaps. Then, he told Atreus about his dreams. “And well, that’s it. Stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid, but…” Atreus paused, carefully choosing his words. “You went through something and you’re trying to make sense of it.”

“I’m not making this up,” Leo pleaded.

“I never said you were. Your mind can play tricks on you. You’re still processing.”

Leo rubbed the stitches on his head. They were healing, thank god, but Leo didn’t think he’d ever get used to the tightness on his scalp.

“You’re stressed, Leo,” Atreus said. “Let this vision, or whatever it is, go. You’ve already got enough on your plate.”

“It’s hard to let go when it feels so real.”

“Real or not, it’s not doing you any good. I’m saying it’s a lot for you to handle right now.”

“And I’m handling it just fine,” Leo snapped. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Sorry.”

“No need.”

Atreus was a good friend, better than Leo deserved. Still, Leo hated that Atreus knew just how dire his situation was. Hated the way his friend’s eyes narrowed with pity. Hated that the boy he’d known since he was ten years old never once offered to take him to the mainland in the winter.

That’s not what this is about.

Atreus released a long sigh. “Leo, if you need some help, my wages are more than enough for my needs?—”

“Stop,” Leo interrupted. “Just stop.”

Atreus chewed his lip but said nothing else.

“Be straight with me,” Leo said, turning his body to face Atreus fully. “Do you think I’m crazy? Do you think I’m losing it?”

“I never said you were crazy, Leo; you’re taking on too much?—”

“Do you think it’s all in my head? The… the creature I saw?” Even as Leo asked, he dreaded the answer. How could something that felt so real be a dream and not a memory? How could he still smell the creature’s briny scent? Feel the cold press of its scales? Taste of ocean spray on his lips…

A flicker of indecision flashed in Atreus’s eyes, but it vanished in less than a second.“It’s in your head, Leo. Let it go.”

Leo relaxed back into the sand, head bent low. “You’re probably right,” he said, though he couldn’t keep the defeated inflection from his voice.

Atreus reached over and shook him. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright. You hear?”

Leo nodded. “Yeah. I hear you. Thanks for listening.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Atreus said, slapping him on the shoulder.

Leo stayed on the beach even after Atreus returned to work. Soon, he’d be back on the water, on a new boat, doing what he did best: working the bay and providing for his family. He didn’t think about what Alvise expected in return. He couldn’t. Not yet. That reality would surely come for him all too soon .

Instead, he let his mind wander as the waves lapped at the sand. The sea foam collected at his feet, and he watched the bubbles pop until nothing remained but a milky swirl.

Merpeople don’t exist.

Atreus said exactly what Leo needed to hear.

Yet, a small part of him had hoped for a different answer.