“I am never wrong,” she says and takes a swig from her water bottle and wags a finger at me.
“Well, I fucking hope not, because I’m going to take your advice. I’m going to try to find Abby and apologize.”
“And then leave her alone?”
“It’s what I’ve been doing the last eleven years. What’s another week? I don’t even know how long she’s here.”
“Good. That is none of your business, boy.”
Although just the idea of seeing her around from a distance, knowing I would need to intentionally avoid her, makes me feel achy. I feel drawn to Abby, a moth to a flame.
But I’ve already fucked up enough. I don’t deserve her time or attention, and I’m not going to take up too much of it. I’ll apologize to her, clear my conscience, and maybe be able to live the rest of my life knowing even if I couldn’t atone for my sin, I could repent for it.
Fate gave me the chance yesterday and I missed it. I’m not going to go knocking on her room door—that’s too much, even for me. I need to find her again and hope the universe will work in my favor. Again.
Plus, it’s notthatbig of a resort.
How hard could it be?
5
ABBY
Except for my ex-boyfriend’s presence, resort life is exactly what I’d hoped it would be.
I woke up this morning to a text from my butler, Samuel, telling me all the resort activities. Yoga on the beach, a ping-pong tournament in the game center, a scavenger hunt around the resort, a cocktail-making class, stand-up paddle board rentals, a water workout at one of the pools, and tonight’s entertainment—a fiesta with traditional dances, costumes, and music. I opted for a morning at the beach after breakfast. I read through half a book to the soundtrack of the ocean waves, nestled under the shade of an umbrella. I felt bad for the staff on the beach whom I asked to bring me a new water bottle every hour. I’m desperate to stay hydrated in this humidity and avoid a migraine on the trip. So far, so good, but I’ve only been here one night.
I finally left my beach chair when my stomach insisted on lunch. The lunch buffet was as impressive as the breakfast buffet. In the middle of the room was an island overflowing with fruits that would put my local farmers’ market to shame, cut and ready to pile on my plate. On the edges of the room, there was a section for breads, another for cheeses and meats, and a carvingstation serving up roast beef for sandwiches. A made-to-order sushi station and pre-made sandwiches were also available, but I couldn’t pass up a French dip sandwich.
I opted to get out of the heat and sun for the afternoon, taking advantage of my gift from Winnie and Hazel and spending the afternoon at the spa. Nearly a two-hour massage, facial, and one mani-pedi later, I’m finally feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time. Months. Maybe longer.
I’m planning for an early dinner, but I have some time to kill in my room before then. I want to avoid the humidity, so I head back to my room to lie down for a bit.
I anticipated that housekeeping would come by while I was out to make my bed, tidy the room, and clean the bathroom, but I did not anticipate a trail of rose petals from the door to the bed and a bed covered in them as well.
“Oh…my god…”
This must have been some honeymoon add-on that Todd had arranged but never told me about. I wouldn’t have even known to cancel it.
I open my email, checking the reservation, and sure enough, right there, it says “honeymoon add-on.”
How was I supposed to know that would include rose petals on the bed? As I step further into the room, attempting to avoid stepping on too many rose petals, a tray on my dresser catches my eye. Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.
Oh wow.
My stomach sinks to my knees, too heavy to stay in place. I lean against the dresser for support, a sudden weakness making me doubt my ability to hold myself up.
I am supposed to be on my honeymoon.
Oh god, this is sad. I think I’ve hit a new low.
I should be married and starting a new life with my husband, and instead I’m a single, burned-out elementary school artsteacher in Cabo by myself. Actually, it’s worse; I’m not entirely by myself. I’m being haunted by the ghost of boyfriends past.
I reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry and eat the whole thing in one too-big-for-my-mouth bite.
Damn it, these are delicious.
I take in the flower explosion in my room. I did not need this reminder of my reality the day after running into Miles. I have to get this cleaned up and pretend it never happened.
