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“Ahh,” I wince.
“Thank you.” He runs his thumb across my bottom lip before turning to walk out of the room. I close my eyes and lie back, the wine hitting me along with the orgasm comedown. I expect that Atlas will wake me when he comes back into the room but when my eyes fly open hours later, he’s nowhere to be found and I’m still asleep in my dress.
I sit up and look around, panic hitting me when I realize I’m in the ocean, alone. I stand and tiptoe toward the bedroom door, looking into the dark bathroom.
“Atlas?” I whisper his name, stepping into the living room area of the bungalow where he’s asleep on a couch. My heart sinks. I had thought something transpired between us last night, but I guess I once again got caught up in the emotion. I trudge back to the bedroom, not bothering to change out of my dress before climbing back into bed and falling asleep.
When I wake the next morning, I go straight to the bathroom, indulging in an extra-long shower. I take my time doing my skincare and drying my hair, even trying on a few different swimsuits before settling on a pastel lavender one that offers a generous peek at my backside. The top is feminine with a ruffle that stretches up the straps. I fasten a long white cover-up around my waist and step out into the living room to see Atlas with a stunning breakfast spread.
“Good morning.” He smiles, holding out a chair for me.
“Wow, when did this get here?”
“I had it delivered while you were getting ready. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” I take a seat and reach for a cup of coffee first. Before he can bring up last night, I remind him about our adventure today. “Are you excited for the kayaking? They’re clear so there’s a chance we can see sharks.” I bounce my eyebrows. “Just in case you’re too scared.” I giggle and he gives me a smile but something is off.
“About that,” he says and my stomach drops. “Unfortunately, there’s been an issue with this deal I’m working on and I need to make some important calls that cannot be avoided.”
“Oh.” I don’t hide my disappointment as I reach for a croissant and butter.
“But I did hire a local guide who is going to go with you; he’s extremely knowledgeable and I’m told he knows all of the perfect shark-spotting spots.”
I nod, making my best effort to smile but it’s pointless.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” He slides his hand over mine. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”
The kayaking was fun, not as fun as I’d hoped it would be with Atlas, but the guide was truly extremely knowledgeable and I even spotted a few sharks. By the time I got back, I was truly over Atlas having to bail on me but when he did the same for scuba diving and horseback riding, I gave up on spending any time with him.
The rest of my honeymoon is spent between books I downloaded on my Kindle, swimming by myself, or sleeping in one chair or another before moving to the hammock. Dinners feel stale and lifeless, conversation spurred on only by Atlas asking me a question about what I did that day or excusing himself to take a call.
I feel lonely, something I never expected to feel on my honeymoon, even if it is just a contract marriage. I sit on the edge of the balcony floor, my legs dangling over as I look off into the darkness. The sky is littered with stars tonight. I think back to my childhood, one of the only memories I still have was doing just this. I’d run away to some hiding spot I’d find, wherever I was living at the time, and on warm summer nights, I’d look up at the stars and make a wish on each one I could find.
My heart feels heavy as I think about all the people I’m hurting along this journey. A tear falls from my eye and down my cheek. I close my eyes and start to sing “Dream a Little Dream of Me” to myself, wondering how Clyde and the band are doing, telling myself that I just need to swallow my pride and tell him I was fired.
After arriving home from our honeymoon, I found that Atlas had my furniture from my apartment moved into storage and all of my other belongings brought to his house.
“Well, what about my lease?”
“I paid it off,” he says matter-of-factly as he tosses more mail into a pile on his desk.
“You could have approached me about all this beforehand. I would have preferred to pack my own stuff.”
“Is there a real issue here, Stella, or are you just wanting to pick a fight? As you can see”—he gestures to an even bigger pile of papers on his desk—“I’m incredibly busy tonight and I just need to focus.”
“There is an issue I’d like to talk you about, actually.” I sit down in the chair across from him and his frown lines only deepen. “I really didn’t appreciate how alone I was for most of the honeymoon.”
He sighs. “I know and I really am sorry, Stella, I am. I just don’t know what I can do to make it better.”
“You can actually spend more time with me.” He stares at me blankly as if this has never crossed his mind.
“Meaning?”
“Oh my God.” I roll my eyes in frustration. “Just hang out sometimes. I get that you’re busy, but do you ever just watch a movie at night or go bowling on the weekends or something?”
He chuckles and stands up, coming around to stand against his desk in front of me.
“No, I don’t do those things. It’s not for a lack of desire to hang out or have fun; I simply just don’t have the time.”
