The salty air clung to everything—the peeling paint of the old family boat, the sweat on their brows, and the silence that had weighed heavier than the waves since they’d left shore. As the tides waved against the bottom of the boat, it felt as if the pressure separating the family grew stronger as the trip continued on. 

Emilio sat near the edge, his legs pulled tight to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. The wooden deck creaked beneath him, but he barely noticed it over the pounding in his ears. He hated how the silence twisted around them, how his father’s gaze felt like a weight even when it wasn’t on him. It was as if the boat itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break. Waiting for him to break. Emilio continued to drown in the questions gushing through his mind, each one crashing into the next like relentless waves. Why had his mother been so distant lately? Why did his father look at him like he was something broken? He pulled in a shaky breath, the sharp scent of saltwater filling his lungs and grounding him—at least a little. The ocean stretched endlessly around them, a dark, heaving void that mirrored the confusion in his head.

Emilio had never been a fan of the ocean—maybe it was the fear of the unknown, the way its depths seemed to swallow everything whole, or the feeling of the ground disappearing in an instant beneath his feet. The sound of waves lapping against the boat filled the silence, a low, rhythmic taunt that made his skin crawl.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Nico approaching until a sharp shove rocked him forward. Emilio’s hands shot out to steady himself on the edge of the boat, his heart jolting in his chest.

“Stop spacing out,” Nico muttered, stepping beside him, his gaze locked on the water as though it held something far more important than his brother.

Emilio turned to look at him, tension crackling like static in the heavy sea air. Nico’s face was unreadable, his sharp jaw set, but there was a pull in his eyes—a quiet, almost desperate longing—as they followed the endless waves.

“You’re always staring at it,” Emilio said quietly, his voice nearly lost to the wind.

Nico didn’t answer at first, only leaning forward slightly, as if the ocean itself was calling to him. The silence between them thickened, weighted by the years of distance their father had carved between them—one brother placed high on a pedestal, the other left to stumble below it. Emilio had always felt like an intruder in Nico’s world, a world where the ocean meant everything and their father’s approval meant even more.

“It’s better than looking at you,” Nico finally said, his voice low but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

Emilio flinched, though he tried to hide it. Nico’s words stung in the way only a brother’s could—cutting deep, as if they’d been sharpened on years of resentment. He didn’t push back, though; he never did. Instead, his gaze shifted to the water, its dark surface rippling like a secret it refused to share.

For just a moment, Emilio wondered if the ocean would ever feel like home to him the way it clearly did to Nico—or if it would always feel like something waiting to pull him under.

Emilio stood at the edge of the boat, his fingers lightly brushing the weathered wood, his eyes following the rhythm of the waves. He wanted to understand his brother—why the ocean called to him so strongly, why it was everything. Maybe if he could just say the right thing, Nico wouldn’t look at him like he was an outsider.

He took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak without making it worse. “I know… I know how much you love the ocean, Nico,” he said quietly, not sure what he was trying to say but hoping it didn’t sound like an accusation. “I just—sometimes, it’s hard to see why. I guess it scares me a little.”

Nico didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still locked on the vast horizon. Emilio glanced over, his heart aching as he tried again. “I don’t want to sound stupid, I just—I don’t know what it feels like. You seem so… at peace with it. I wish I could be that way too.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the waves and the creaking of the boat. But then Nico’s shoulders stiffened, and he turned to face him, his expression hardening. “You’ll never get it,” he said sharply, eyes narrowing. “The ocean is more than just peace, Emilio. It’s freedom. Something you’ll never have because you’re too busy trying to be good enough for him.”

Emilio flinched at the words, feeling the sting even before Nico finished speaking. “That’s not true,” he whispered, his voice barely above the sound of the wind. “I just… I just don’t know how to make things right between us. I don’t know how to be what he expects.”

Before Nico could respond, their father’s voice sliced through the moment like a knife. “Enough with the whining, Emilio.”

Emilio’s body went rigid, and his head snapped toward their father. The old man’s cold gaze was fixed on him, narrowing with judgment. “Always the quiet one, aren’t you?” Their father’s words were heavy, each one landing like a blow. “Trying to fit in, trying to be something you’re not. But you’ll never make me proud. You’re weak, just like your mother. Always in your head, never strong enough to stand up.”

Emilio’s heart slammed against his ribcage, and the air seemed to grow thicker with every step his father took toward him. He instinctively took a small step back, his foot brushing against the slippery edge of the boat. But their father was relentless, looming closer, his voice low and venomous. “You’ll never be like your brother, Emilio. Nico has something you’ll never understand. He’s got the strength to break free, while you…” He scoffed. “You’ll always be chained to your fears.”

The words were like a weight pressing down on him, and Emilio’s breath became shallow as he stepped back again. The edge of the boat was too close now—he could feel the unsteady rocking beneath him. His legs felt like they were made of stone, frozen in place as his father’s presence closed in.

“Why don’t you just go with him, huh?” His father sneered. “You think you can be part of this family? You can’t even stand up for yourself. You don’t belong here.”

Emilio’s pulse pounded in his ears, and he instinctively took another step back, his foot slipping on the slick wood. The cold, vast ocean was suddenly all around him, and before he could even comprehend what was happening, the boat tilted beneath him.