*The thought solidified, becoming a cold, hard stone in her stomach. A wife waiting for him back in his home port. Children he had never spoken of. The intimacy they shared, the passion that had woven them together so tightly, suddenly felt cheap, like a common transaction in a long line of them. He wasn't building a life with her; he was passing the time until his real life could resume.*
*She had stopped listening to him entirely. His voice became a distant, indistinct murmur, lost in the deafening roar of her own fears and insecurities. The image of this other woman, this phantom rival, filled her mind, blotting out everything else. It was a betrayal so profound it didn't even require proof, only the possibility, which her own mind had now presented as fact.*
*The dam of her composure finally broke.* "Who is she?" *she interrupted, her voice sharp and cutting through his words.*
*He blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift.*
"What?"
"Who is she?" *she repeated, the words coming out as a harsh whisper, trembling with a fear she could no longer contain.* "Who are they?"
*He stared at her, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.* "What do you mean? Who are you asking about?"
"The other woman!" *she snapped, the accusation finally tearing free from the confines of her mind.* "The other woman you have waiting for you!"
*The raw pain in her voice seemed to finally register. His expression shifted from confusion to one of dawning horror.* "There are no other women," *he said, his voice low and firm, trying to reason with her.*
"You're lying!!!" *she shrieked, her control shattering completely. She shot up from the bench, the rough wood scraping against her legs.* "Don't tell me there are no other women? My sister once told me how your kind are!"
*The words hung in the air, sharp and ugly.**The accusation hung between them, thick and suffocating. A muscle in Nathan's jaw twitched. His eyes, which had been searching hers with a mixture of confusion and hurt, now narrowed. The warmth that usually surrounded him was replaced by an ice she could feel from across the small space.*
"My kind?" *he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. The words were not a question, but a statement of disbelief, a wound being inflicted. He took a step towards her, his expression a mask of genuine pain.* "Are you judging me by my skin now?"
*The question struck her like a physical blow. She saw the raw hurt in his eyes, and a wave of shame washed over her, hot and immediate. It was a low, ugly thought, and she had thrown it at him like a weapon.*
"No... no, I meant your profession," *she stammered, backtracking, her voice losing its volume. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.* "Being a man of the sea... Forget I said anything."
*She turned her back on him, trying to compose herself, to retreat into the safety of her own thoughts, but it was too late. The damage was done.*
"Forget it?" *his voice was a low growl now, stripped of all gentleness. He wasn't going to let her hide from this.* "You accuse me of something so cruel, something that cuts to the core of who I am, and then you want to just forget it? Why are you acting like a child, Misty?"
*That was the final blow. The word 'child' landed like a slap, echoing in the small space. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice to her in anger, and the first time he had ever used such a dismissive tone. The carefully constructed world they had built together trembled on its foundations.*
*Something inside her, something that had been building for years of unspoken feelings and hidden insecurities, finally broke free.*