Kola said, "Rest now and gather strength. A rescued man must heal before he chases any answers ahead."
Kayode said, "Let me wash these plates. My hands must learn honest work and gratitude from today onward."
Kola replied, "Sleep without fear tonight, brother. No waves, no hunger—only rest under a safe roof here."
With each day in the fishing village, Kayode became stronger. He helped clear the table, watched Kola repair nets, and discovered the steady pleasure of work done beside another person. Kola never asked him to perform gratitude for an audience. He simply offered another task, another meal, another opportunity to treat someone with consideration. Kayode began to think of the Golden Crest not merely as the place from which he had been sent away, but as the place where he had betrayed his own better possibilities.
Kayode said, "I slept like a child and woke without anger. This small home is healing my heart."
Kola said, "Pull this net gently with me. Work done together makes sorrow feel lighter every single day."
Kayode admitted, "Kola, tell me truly: have you ever seen the great white cruise called *Golden Crest* nearby?"
Kola said, "No, my friend. That big ship has never come near our shores."
Kola said, "Yes, that great white cruise returns to the marina in a few days. People say so."
Kola replied, "We will go together when she returns, and I will stand beside you at that pier."
He spoke of wanting explanations, but the words of apology reached his lips before those of accusation. The change astonished him. The man who had once threatened to command an entire sea now had to practice approaching another person without demanding anything. Kola watched him with the patience he had shown from the first day. Together they prepared for the journey to the marina, where the past awaited them on a gleaming white vessel.
Kayode murmured, "I want answers. Then I will accept judgment. When I see that waitress, my first words will be sorry—spoken low and meant deeply."
Kola said, "In three days, we leave at sunrise. So pack light and keep your heart steady, brother."
Kayode said, "I left that island with nothing, yet I carry one thing now: a lesson in humility. Let the great ship come. I will meet it standing straight, ready to face my past."
The marina was busy with carts, ropes, engines, and passengers carrying polished luggage toward moored vessels. Kayode stood among them in ordinary clothes, a figure no one would have pointed out as a billionaire. Beside him, Kola waited without impatience. The contrast between the fisherman and the wealthy travelers might once have embarrassed Kayode. Now the companionship of this man, who had asked nothing of him, felt like the only reliable thing he possessed.
Kola replied, "Kayode, this is the marina where her cruise returns. We wait here, and we watch the sea together."
Kayode murmured, "I have waited through hunger and storms, Kola. A few more hours beside you cannot break me now."