“It’ll be better...” I hear my whispers. They feel strangled. I feel strangled. I feel as though someone has wrapped their arms around my neck and hugged it too tightly. I feel as though I am underwater and there are rocks tied to my feet. I can thrash, I can scream, I can try anything and everything, but in the end, I will never survive. I will never live—what’s weighing me down is simply too heavy. Even though she’s my lifeboat, I’m jumping off. In search of Atlantis, perhaps.

Emily opens her eyes, her forehead still against mine. The blue in them is unmistakable, as though shards of the sky have descended from above into her irises. But behind that piercing gaze is fear. As I search her face, I see the dampness of her dark eyelashes; the darkness of her eye bags; and the wet stains across her cheeks. I hate lying to her, but I must to keep her safe.

“You don’t have to go,” she breathes. “You could stay here; wait for the storm to pass and go home.”

“No,” I reply, stroking my fingers across her hair. “It would be impossible. For me.”

“Will you ever tell me where you’re going?” she says, her voice beginning to break. She’s begging, I realise. “Will you ever come back?”

I open my mouth to reply, but my breath catches in my throat. I can’t breathe---I’m drowning, and the surface seems to be taunting me. It is right there above me, but I can not even touch it. “I don’t know. I love you, Em. Please--please don’t ever forget me.”

Her eyes sparkle, like sapphires. She grabs my arm.

“Jonathan,” she says. Her voice is soft, whispering my name as though it were a secret. Something else escapes her mouth. No, not just something, a word; not a singular word, but six. Six that achieve the impossible. Six that make me rethink leaving and everything that has led up to this moment. Six that make me question the reality of life.

“Our child will wait for you.”