The Bad Boy And The Mermaid

Chapter 44

Hunter

Days turned to weeks. And I’d spent about two months looking like a mess. Painting and selling them to interested clients, I was also doing commissioned work. If I wasn’t painting, I was nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Lately, Jack had become best friends with me; he helped numb the confusion and the pain.

It was sad, almost too funny the irony that my mother hadn’t wanted me even before I was out of her womb, and my wife had clearly deserted me for reasons that I was still searching for to this day. Not that I had any mommy issues, but it was a no-brainer that I was basically unwanted.

It was pathetic. My life as I was living right now, feeling sorry for myself that I was unlovable. The pity- party needed to stop. I just didn’t know how. Some of my friends from college had tried to lure me out of my cave by asking me to go out for a “fun” night which no doubt entailed booze and women, a place where a married man had no business venturing into but would you really call me a married man?

I had no ring on my hand to prove it; no pictures of my wife save for the portrait I’d painted. No clothes of hers, no nothing. Leslie acted weird a lot of times; the annoying mutt would stare at windows and bark for twenty-four hours. He tried to communicate with me, and I wished I could understand the Doggo dialect. If there was anyone who would give me the real truth, it was Leslie.

I was so fucking miserable; I took my father’s Yacht Bella Alessia, named after my half-brother, Ryan’s deceased Italian mother, and my dad’s first wife. “Bella” literally meant beauty in Italian and Alessia had been her name. During my rebellious, vindictive years, I’d asked, no, teased Elaine, third wife of father dearest about how she felt that he hadn’t changed the name of the Yacht to hers, she’d simply smiled and said naming the Yacht “Bella Elaine” would have sucked ass and she strongly believed the Yacht would have drowned if it was named after her. I was shocked, of course but knew that Elaine had zero

mean bones in her body. She’d known that even though Dad loved her a lot, he’d loved Ryan’s mother more. If Alessia hadn’t died, Elaine wouldn’t even be in the picture.

The games that the universe played with us were just fucking nasty.

And here I was spending three days on a Yacht looking for my wife. There was just the Helmsman and me on the boat. The Yacht had a total of three bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, and an upper and lower deck. My ass was currently parked on the upper deck, downing my fifth or sixth drink (who was keeping count?) I was looking into the water, really squinting my eyes.

“Hey...” I called into the water, leaning over. “Hey mermaid, are you in there?”

I could only see my reflection in the calm dark water. “Come on out.” I slurred. “Talk...talk to your husband.”

With wobbly legs I stood up and holding onto the sides with one hand, I slowly descended down from the upper deck to the lower one. My other hand was holding half a bottle of whiskey. I couldn’t even see clearly as I stood on the deck, bare feet. I probably stank of liquor, but I didn’t care. I was more bothered about drowning my sorrows and pain. I leaned against the boat railing and didn’t even realize when I lost my balance and went tumbling into the sea.

There was a loud splash as I submerged into the cold water and I could swear this was a dream and that I would wake up any minute but I continued to sink lower and lower, deeper into the sea.

I didn’t have the strength to swim, couldn’t even feel my limbs. It had to be the alcohol.

The serene of the sea surrounded me, engulfing me and I thought this is it.

I was going to die by drowning. I’d often wondered how the victims of a shipwreck must have felt as they welcomed death. Well, now I knew.

I closed my eyes.

***

My head was spinning when I opened my eyes, and I was still feeling quite sick and dizzy. I was lying on the deck floor, and looking up I could see the stars glimmering above.

I wasn’t dead.

I could make out the faint outline of a woman kneeling beside me. Her hair was aqua blue in the moonlight and she was completely naked. She held my face in both her hands and wept silently. I wanted to open my mouth and tell her that it was okay. I wanted to ask her if she saved my life. There were so many things I needed to talk but couldn’t utter a word.

She was whispering in what seemed to me like Greek, she kept saying it repeatedly.

“You should have jus lee me drown,” I slurred. “I was better off dead anyway.”

I got smacked on my cheek so hard, I think I’d lost some of the effects of whiskey. I had it coming from a mile away. I chuckled, “Hit me again. I like pain; it makes me realize that I’m still alive.”

She mumbled something unintelligible. Her voice was melodious and sweet. She could sing for hours and I would still be here listening to her.

“English,” I said between a cough. “I speak English.” Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

She didn’t say a word, just stared at me with her big blue eyes, and batted her long lashes at me. Slowly she caressed my cheek. Her expressions were unreadable but she was trying to convey her words through her eyes.

“Do you understand English?” I asked.

“Talk to me, Blue.”

When she heard her name, her eyes became the size of dinner plates and she scrambled to get to her feet and I knew she was leaving.

“Wait!” I called out to her desperately.

She stopped and turned.

“Please Stay.”

She appeared to be reluctant but walked back towards me. I tried not to look at her from the neck down but my eyes kept straying there. You couldn’t tell a man who hadn’t seen his wife in two months not to stare at her when she was completely naked.

She whispered three words. “I am sorry.”

***

I woke up with a bad hangover under bed-sheets and the worst bedroom on the boat. Bile rose in my throat and I reached out for the bucket sitting below and threw up in it.

I lay there watching the ocean waves lapping from the little round window and wondering if I’d dreamed about last night.

Did a mermaid really save my life or was that a figment of my imagination?

The boat was still docked somewhere. My head was pounding so badly, I couldn’t even move it without wincing. I regretted having to be drunk enough that I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and dream.

“CAPTAIN!” I screamed. I called the Helmsman as Captain which was funny because he’d never sailed a boat larger than a private yacht.

I heard the loud thumping of footsteps and he threw open the door, “Sir.” He addressed me.

“Was I drunk out of my mind last night?”

“You were drinking from four p.m until mid-night which is when I saw you on the lower deck. Two bottles are empty.”

“Did I drown?”

He paled. “Not to my knowledge.”

Why does every freakin’ body have no clue about anything in my life?

“Can I get you breakfast, sir?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said and dismissed him.

The best thing about being at the sea, you couldn’t receive any calls or texts. My phone had one bar for the signal. If Dad, Elaine, Hannah, and Ryan wondered where I was, they were going to be in for a surprise when they find the Yacht gone.

And they would be worried to death. Served them right for keeping me in the dark. I expected to see over two dozen missed calls on my phone when I received some network.

My mind wandered to my supposed “wife.” She gave off the kind of warmth that I didn’t mind getting used to. I’d seen the longing in her eyes as clear as day. Of course, I hadn’t imagined it and a part of me had split open. I didn’t know what I had lost and yet the loss felt excruciating.

If the mermaid wasn’t here and I’d imagined her in my drunk state then I was definitely going crazy.

***

Six months. That’s how much time I spent after my memory loss, four months since the last time I’d seen Blue on the Yacht. Or at least I thought I saw her.

The more time passed, the more desperate I was getting.

Pain and confusion had turned into bitterness.

My step-mom was the most supportive; she told me if Blue loved me, she would come back. I didn’t believe her anymore. If my wife loved me, she would have at least made an attempt to speak with me, tell me the reason she left. Some of my friends were telling me it wasn’t worth it, that no woman was worth being so goddamn obsessed over. They urged me to move on.

Promise me, Hunter, that you won’t love anyone else other than me.

I took a long sip of my coffee as I remembered those words from a time that I didn’t remember her saying it to me. I pressed my head and murmured, “Get out of my head!”

I walked over to the kitchen and looked through the cabinets. I didn’t have much food left and I’d already sacked the maid because I didn’t need to pay someone to stock for just me when I could drive to the grocery store by myself.

I splashed water over my face, flossed, and pulled on a pair of casual t-shirt and jeans. I needed to do some shopping.

I drove to the nearest supermarket which was about fifteen minutes away from the house. I dumped things into my trolley distractedly. Turns out money wasn’t an issue any longer. I could buy anything I wanted, eat whatever I wished without caring about paying bills.

There were so many good things in life that came with money and yet I had nothing. At one point in my life, I remembered money was all I ever wanted to have.

I pushed the trolley ahead and thought I noticed a flash of blue hair. The cans of tuna slipped out of my hand and landed on the floor as I ran ahead. I ran through the aisle of shelves like a mad-man possessed to see it again, to prove myself that I wasn’t losing my mind.

And there she was.

Standing at the end of the aisle trying to reach the top-most shelf, she was so short she couldn’t even reach it standing on her tiptoes. Her long blue hair was tied in a messy bun at her nape, and she was dressed in a pink, loose fitted knee-length dress.

I reached for it easily and held it out the box of Cereal for her, “Here.”

She seemed shocked when she saw me and froze. Her expressions were unreadable but she stared at me, her entire body shaking.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said desperately. “I just want to talk.”

Taking advantage of the fact that she wasn’t moving, I touched her arm and snippets began coming back to me. I sucked in my breath as the first wave of memory hit me, followed by another, and then another.

Me carrying a mermaid from the beach. Wrapping her up in a blanket at my old apartment. Teaching her how to walk. Blue smiling up at me with trust in her eyes. Blue hugging me. Blue crying in my arms when she was lost. Blue saying she loved me.

I started breathing hard because I was hurting.

This was hurting me like nothing ever had.

My memories were coming back.