"My dear, I'm far too intoxicated for this right now. You've just rattled my brain a bit too much."
"Eat something, Ed," Anne said, handing him some meat and bread.
Edward ate the food offered, and despite wanting to move on from their time in the Devil's Triangle, a thought occurred to him. "You've never told me about what you saw that day," he said.
Anne looked at Edward for a moment, her red curls draped over her shoulders as she moved her head. She looked away and at the wall. "I, like you, saw my parents. Both of them. I didn't know where I was at first, but I quickly realized it was one of my mother's houses. I hid when I heard someone coming, and it turned out to be my mother. She had just given birth to my brother George, but he died minutes after." Anne leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling above. "I would have been eight at the time, far too young to remember the details, but I do remember the fights. My father tried his best to console my mother, but she rebuffed him. My mother's friend, Sarah, came next and comforted my mother in her time of need. Then my aunt visited, and Sarah left. Instead of comforting her, my aunt berated my mother for her relationship with Sarah. They fought, shouting at each other the vilest things." Anne closed her eyes for a moment. "That was the last time they saw each other."
Edward watched as Anne told her story. Her expression was a mixed shadow of pity and anger that had simmered and evaporated over the years but still existed in the ether.
He remembered what his father had told him about Anne's mother. She had passed almost a year ago. He hadn't told Anne about it yet, but he knew he should. Before he could, Anne continued her story.
"I never did put the two together, but I realize now why my leaving was such a betrayal to her, why she chose to declare me dead as a way of disowning me and sending an assassin to make it true. Though they fought, my mother loved my aunt, but my aunt was so cruel to her. That's what made her an overbearing, overprotective and controlling woman. The cruellest irony is that that's what pushed me away." Anne glanced at Edward and let out a sheepish chuckle as she wiped the mist from her eyes. "Sorry, Ed, it's the drink talking. I didn't mean to drown you in melancholy."
Edward laid his hand on Anne's and looked deep into her eyes. "Never apologize for opening your heart to me. I am your husband, remember? We're supposed to share in the burdens too, not just the joys."
Anne leaned forward and kissed Edward, then the two embraced. Anne held him tight, and Edward could feel the slight damp of fallen tears against his back.
"I love you, Edward," she said.
"I love you too, my Anne."
They sat there for a moment in silence. Anne repositioned so that she was leaning her back into his chest, and she held Edward's arms wrapped around her body. The stars shone outside, giving a small bit of light into the cabin along with the ever-dimming lantern in front of them.
"Besides, there's no use worrying about the dead. It's a lesson we'll both have to learn, it seems," Anne said suddenly.
Anne's comment shocked Edward. "What?"
She turned a bit and looked up at Edward. "Yes, I suppose I never told you. Back when we were in Porto Bello, I learned that my mother passed away."
Edward's jaw dropped in shock. "You knew?"
Anne sat up and turned around to face Edward. "Wait, you knew about it too?"
"I just found out recently. I was trying to find the right time to tell you about it." Edward let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Well, I suppose I've saved you the trouble," Anne said with a laugh.
"I suppose so."
They sat in silence once again.
After a moment, Anne shook her head. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?" she said.
Edward cocked his brow. "I recall I said the same to you once. What do you mean by it?"
"Though you weren't aware at the time, you had an overbearing, controlling father who tried to kill you, the same as my mother. Fate is the mother of all coincidences. I take that as more proof we were meant to be together."
Edward smiled at his wife. The thought that they were meant to be together, though their shared circumstances may have been the inciting incidents, warmed his heart.
"Anne, I want you to have this," Edward said as he reached into his pocket. He pulled the driftwood seashell necklace and handed it to her. "It was my mother's. My father had it with him. I think it would be better if you kept it safe."
She examined the carved necklace with care and reverence, gently touching the curves in the porous wood. After a moment, she put it around her neck.
"How does it look?" she asked.
"Better than it would on me," he replied with a grin.
Anne laughed with him. "You've never talked about your mother before. Tell me about her."
Edward told Anne about the only memory he had left of his mother: her beautiful, long black hair, as black as onyx, and wavy like the summer sea. Then he recounted the stories that his father had told him about her and finished with his father's comment about his mother not being meant for this world.
Anne gave him a warm smile, then touched the necklace. "I'll keep it safe and wear it with pride."
She turned around and laid her head in Edward's lap. She held his hand across her chest, and they sat there for a time. Edward watched the stars outside the cabin as the waves splashed against the hull, the familiar sound pulling at his core and reminding him
