The idea of them seeing her like this, of him seeing her like this, was out of the question. She would text Paul that she was sick, excuse herself from dinner, and pack her bags. She would take a shower, clean up her room, and book a hotel at the next port. They would arrive in Corfu just before dawn; she could stay there until she had to make her way to Cyprus for the wedding—which she would attend for as long as it took to not destroy her relationship with her best friend and not a minute longer. Then she would fly home to Philadelphia and forget this trip had ever happened. It felt pathetic, but necessary, and the only way to keep from falling apart completely.

A rapping knock came at her door. It would have been funny, if she weren’t so distraught: Paul was still her mind-reader, even in moments like this.

“Come in,” she sniffed, quietly.

“Hey babe, do you like this shirt with—” he looked over to her, face falling as his eyes landed on her reddened cheeks. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Close the door,” she answered, keeping her voice low.

He pressed the door into its frame, careful to keep the sound to a minimal click. From her seated position in front of the mirror, she looked up at him, gesturing for him to sit down on the bed.

“What happened?” he asked, suddenly drained of his usual impish energy.

“I need to leave,” she started, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and clearing her throat. “It has nothing to do with you and Guy, and I will meet you at the wedding. I just can’t spend another four days on this boat.”

“What?” He ran a hand through his hair, genuinely struggling to understand her words.

“I’m going to book a hotel in Corfu, just for a few nights. I’ll probably fly out of Athens.”

“Lex, can you afford—”

“I don’t want to talk about my finances. I’m fine.”

“Okay, but…” His voice sounded weak, almost childlike. “Why?”

For a moment, she thought of lying, of making up some family crisis or professional emergency that would justify her chaotic behavior. But that was one relic of her former self that she had the strength to move past: she could be honest about her reasons for fleeing the scene this time, at least with Paul.

“The video went live. About Horace Capital Partners.”

“What is Horace—”