I swallow an unexpected emotion away. It’s strange how the world keeps moving, changing, modernizing, yet some placesstay exactly the same. I changed, I went through things, I got older. But this, this right here still looks like the same piece of paradise Calvin showed me ten years ago.
I frame it between my thumbs and index fingers, capturing the view like a postcard.
Life moves slower here in the Caribbean. So much slower than the constant rush in Amsterdam. This island is a sanctuary, for real. It’s starting to grow on me.
I walk up to the viewpoint at the edge of the cliff and watch the sun melt into the horizon. Right here, right now, I want to make a promise to myself to never take moments like these for granted.
Yosh stands beside me now. I turn to him.
“I’m grateful,” I whisper.
He looks content and more at ease. He was right. I needed fresh air and this breathtaking view. He needed it too.
We walk down the steps. I slip off my slides and let the warm, soft white sand cushion my feet. The last tourists of the day are packing up, leaving the beach entirely to us. We find a spot near the center of the bay and sit down.
The skyline looks even more magnificent than yesterday. Maybe not being alone has something to do with it as well.
My feet shovel into the sand until they disappear. I pull my knees closer to my chest and rest my arms on them.
“Again, I’m sorry about the whole isolation situation. I don’t mean to, but somehow I always get into trouble.”
A few curls fall into my eyes, turning the horizon into a blur of orange and pink. I could push them back, but I don’t really mind seeing the world a little out of focus.
I’m such a fucking cliché, avoiding eye contact the second things get uncomfortable.
Yosh doesn’t let me get away with it.
“I don’t think you mean to cause trouble,” he says. “It’s how you cope when something gets too close. You take control in the moment. The regret part comes later.”
He studies me in that unnervingly accurate way of his. We are definitely doing the talking thing again.
“Take our first conversation. The moment something touched one of your inner layers, your instinct was to flip the situation and take charge. That’s your defense.”
I look up and meet his eyes. He’s spilling his own truth, and I wonder if he even realizes it.
It’s funny he brings that up, because that wasn’t our first conversation. That happened by the pool, when he introduced himself and then took off like he robbed a convenience store.
“Just like some people respond by running when someone gets too close to their inner layers?”
“Yes, it’s called the fight-or-flight response.”
No, he definitely doesn’t realize it.
“Interesting,” I hum.
“I’m really sorry about what happened with Terrence,” he says. “And I’m also sorry I wasn’t there when you needed support. They should’ve called me, I would’ve come straight back. If you want to file a complaint, work with someone else, or even leave Arcadia, I would understand.”
“Leave? Nah, nah, it’s fine,” I mumble.
Arcadia, complaints, Terrence, all of that is background noise compared to what’s actually going on in my head right now.
I curl my fingers into the sand, feeling the grains slip beneath my touch and glide into the bandages around my hands. My mind has been spiraling in roller-coaster loops for too many years, loops I couldn’t break. But here, at this paradise beach, with Yosh next me, I feel something close to being ready.
I stare at the patterns my fingertips leave in the sand, then look up to meet his eyes.
It’s time. No more running. No more fighting.
The silence dares me to back down, but fuck that, I’m not letting it win.
