chapter six      The following morning the yacht anchored off the coast of Greece. Charles and his friends were going to go ashore for the day and explore ancient sites. Emma was eager to return to the island of Mykonos, where she had spent a substantial amount of time growing up. Will, Harry, and their pals wanted to hang around on the boat and take advantage of the boat's well-stocked movie library and healthy supply of personal watercrafts. At breakfast that morning Emma tried one last time to convince Will to come with her.      "You sure you don't want to come ashore with me?" she asked Will as she placed another spoonful of strawberries onto her plate.      "Yeah," he said, sipping his tea, "Camille and I are going to check out the jet-skis and do some scuba diving."      "Oh, okay. That sounds exciting…" Emma said, her voice trailing off as she swallowed her disappointment.      "But, you go, have fun. Bring me back a little flag or something," Will added, as he settled into his eggs and waffles. Emma nodded.      "Sure, of course." Emma ate quickly and retired to her stateroom to freshen up before she went ashore. .:.      She was dressed in a delicate flowing, full white silk skirt with large poppies printed on it. She had a simple white spaghetti-strap tank on, and white flats. She tied a white silk scarf as a headband, letting the ends hang down the back of her neck. Her long hair was wavy and curly from the humidity and heat of the region. She put on some lipstick and a pair of large black sunglasses. She grabbed her Nikon off her bed, tossed a few extra rolls of film into her bag, picked up her bag and headed to the door.      She ran straight into the guard that Charles had insisted she take with her when she went ashore. He was concerned about her personal safety, considering the recent rise in crime in Greece. She had protested, vehemently, but Charles would have none of it and insisted that Sgt. Williams accompany her. Emma greeted the man, who was a little over 6-foot with sandy hair, politely and together they made their way to the small power boat that would shuttle them to the island. .:.      "I realize, Sgt. Williams, that this is probably not what you wanted to spend your day doing, so I appreciate you being so polite about it," Emma said on the boat ride over.      "Not a problem," he said, "it beats sitting on the dock watching a bunch of teenagers try and pants each other." Emma laughed. He smiled. "You know, you can call me Mark. The only person who calls me Sgt. Williams is my captain, and even he only calls me that when I'm in trouble!" She laughed again, harder this time.      "Deal." The rest of the boat ride was quiet, Emma just soaked in the sun and the breathtaking views of the islands. .:.      Emma and Mark spent the morning walking around the marketplaces of the island. Emma dutifully bought a souvenir flag for Will and one for Harry too. She purchased a set of watercolors for Charles. She had the shop owner gift wrap them as she wrote out a thank you card to be enclosed with the paintings. Mark kindly carried the packages back to the car that had been waiting at the dock for them when they arrived. Emma also purchased a couple of items of clothing and jewelry for herself. They ate lunch in a small café on the coast. It was a place that Emma used to go to when she had lived there with her father.      By the time the sun was beginning to set and Mark was beginning to encourage her to head back to the dock to go back to the boat, Emma was beginning to feel down.      "Mark, could we make just one last stop, please?" she asked, her voice full of sadness. He softened and nodded. They got into the car and he followed her directions. She led him to southern side of the island to a small rocky cliff with the most breathtaking view of the setting sun. She told him to pull the car over and to let her out. She said she'd be just a minute; she left her bag and camera on her seat and walked across the narrow road to the rocky cliff and sat on one of the large boulders.      Mark watched from the car. A couple of minutes after she sat down he saw her shoulders slump and begin to shake a little. She was crying. He got out of the car and walked over to her.      "Emma?" he asked, as her approached her. She sniffled and wiped the tears from her cheek.      "Sorry, we can go if we need to," she moved to stand up, but he stopped her.      "No, we're not going anywhere," he said, sitting down next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"      "Talk about what?"      "About why you're crying." She looked away from him.      "The last time I was here my dad took a picture of me." He nodded.      "I know the picture, Will keeps it on his desk in his room." She looked at him.      "Really?" he nodded. "Well, he always told me that he thought I was truly happy in the picture; happier than I am in real life, so to speak. Anyways, this time, I wanted the picture to include the two of us. I wanted him to see the happiness and the beauty of us. You know?" he nodded. "Instead he's off playing Hugh Hefner with that playmate of his." Mark smiled.      "I'm not too fond of her either. And I can understand how you feel."      "Am I asking too much? I mean, he's happy, right? Seeing that I'm a friend and that I've never given him a reason to elevate the relationship, shouldn't I just be happy for him and put my feelings aside?"      "No, because then you wouldn't be honest to yourself; and you have to be honest with yourself!" she nodded. "I'll give you a few minutes, okay?"      "Thanks." Mark headed back to the car and reached in through the open car window and picked up her camera. When she wasn't looking he snapped a picture of her. She was sitting there, elegantly silhouetted by the setting sun, and yet the emptiness and longing of her heart was painfully painted across her face. He climbed back into the car and waited for her. .:.      When they stepped back onto the yacht, she took her packages from him and thanked him for a lovely day. She asked him to tell Charles that she was absolutely exhausted and wouldn't be joining everyone for dinner in the dining room that she was just going to develop her film and turn in early. He nodded and wished her goodnight.      Emma made her way to Will and Harry's staterooms and tied their flags to the handles of their doors. She left the nicely wrapped package outside of Charles' stateroom, and then went to her room. She laid her things down on her bed, gathered up the rolls of film that she took that day and headed to the ships darkroom. When she was done with her film she gathered up her pictures, throwing the one that Mark had taken of her in the trash and went to her stateroom. .:.      Later that evening, after everyone had retired for the evening, everyone except "the kids", Mark went down to the darkroom, looking for Emma. He didn't find her, and he suspected that she had already developed her film and retired for the night. On his way out of the darkroom, he glanced down and saw the photo he had taken of her in the trashcan. She hadn't crumpled it up or anything, just dropped it into the bin. He picked up the photo, and walked out towards Will's stateroom. He knocked a couple of times, with no answer, before he used his key to open the door. The stateroom was empty, and so he walked over to the desk in the corner. He took a piece of paper from the drawer and proceeded to write a note to Will.      Will -      I have had the privilege of working with you and your family for four years now. I had respected you for your maturity and intelligence. I have come to admire your perseverance and your humility. However, you have committed one sin that I simply find deplorable; you've let her go. Not many men in this world are lucky enough to find women like your mother and Emma. You had her Will, she was there for you when you needed her most; and you neglected her. She was there for you even when she shouldn't have been. How did you repay her for this? By inviting her on a cruise so that you could ignore her some more, and parade your relationship around in her face. I used to think that 99% of women out there didn't deserve someone like you, just like 99% of men didn't deserve your mother. But, now I feel differently. You don't deserve her. Today I saw a beautiful, smart, witty woman cry. Today she cried tears of loneliness and heartache, today she cried because the one person she wanted to be with in the whole world today ignored her. I have spent four years looking at that picture of her from your desk; today I captured her beauty, and her pain. Look carefully at this picture Will. Look carefully and you will see all that you have given up - all that you have lost.      Respectfully,      Mark Williams .:.      William didn't return to his stateroom that night. When he dragged himself back to his room early the next morning, he found the note and the picture. He sat down at the desk and carefully, laboriously, examined the photo. There was only one person who he had ever seen that much beauty, and yet that much pain in. His mother. And so, the prince cried. He cried because he now knew the price of loving Camille; he paid it with Emma's suffering.      Will changed and cleaned himself up a bit. He went to his door, finally noticing the flag that Emma had left there for him. He picked the flag up off the ground and read the small note tied to it.      Will -      Here is your flag, as promised. I hope it will do. It has become very clear to me that as hard as I try, and as much as I'd like to - I don't know you anymore. I used to know what you'd like, what your favorites were, now all I know is what I read in the magazines. Please don't think that I think poorly of you. This is hardly the case. You are the brother I never had. You were my friend, my best friend for more than half my life. But now, for your own good, I am taking my leave. You need new friends Will. Friends who know you, and who you can share your new life with. Best wishes for you and Camille. Send your father my love and thank him again for me. Goodbye, dear Will. You will always be "Willy" to me. You will always be in my heart.      Love Always,      Emma .:.      Will ran quickly through the ship to Emma's room, only to find the butler cleaning it. He inquired where Emma had gone, and was informed that she disembarked very early that morning, meeting a taxi at the pier to take her to the airport. Will slumped down against the wall - she was gone forever.       .:. back