The diary soared into the sky at first. It was beautiful to watch, like a bird flapping its wings and climbing, and then it seemed to slow down, it paused, looked like it was hovering for a moment or two without moving, and then its trajectory changed.
It started to fall. Faster and faster and faster towards the bottom. It tumbled and somersaulted in the air. It looked like it was flapping its wings frantically, trying to stay up, but it was impossible. The inevitability of gravity pulled at it. And then it crashed into the water.
I stood there and watched as the book floated around for a while, the current from the raging waterfall pulling it closer and closer and then, all of a sudden, it disappeared into the foaming waters. I gasped as the turbulence ate it up violently. It re-emerged again, only to be dragged back under by thousands of pairs of frothy fingers. And then, finally, I couldn’t see it anymore. It made no more reappearances and it was . . .gone.
I imagined it at the bottom of the pool now. Drenched and soaked. I imagined the ink streaming off the pages and bleeding into the water until finally disappearing. Forever. All the words I’d ever written, melting and disappearing off the page, as if turning back time, as if they had never been there in the first place. Erasing three years of memories and stories. I felt a tear slip down my cheek. It was sadness, but there was something else in the sadness too.Hope? Relief?
Another tear trickled down my face as I stared at the waters below. It was still hot and humid, but suddenly, a cold shiver ran through me, as if a ghost had just crawled over my skin. Maybe it was the ghost of Matt finally leaving me. I felt the solid weight of an arm around my shoulders and looked to my left. I’d almost forgotten about Alex.
“How do you feel?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Good, I think.” I smiled at him. “Something feels different I guess.” I said it and meant it this time. Not like all the other times I’d said it over the years. Something did feel different this time. Maybe this list would really work?I hoped it would work.
Because trying to get over Matt for these last few years had been like that diet you were always going to start on Monday. Sunday night you would binge on your favorite foods and then swear blind that on Monday morning you would wake up and only drink green kale smoothies for the next month until you lost all the weight.
But around lunchtime on Monday I always slipped and fell off the wagon . . .
And that was Matt.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“So, what’s next?” I said, sitting opposite Alex at the table by the swimming pool. We were back at our hotel, it was evening, and we’d spent most of the day hiking and exploring the forest.
“Well,” Alex said, opening the magazine once more. He read. “ ‘Number Four. Commit Murder, On Social Media. His status updates. His thoughts in 280 characters or less. His face in dreamy Valencia filter that really brings out his eyes . . . or worse, him and his new bae in sexy black and white #powercouple #blessed #loveofmylife
“ ‘The last thing you need right now is to have your ex in your social media space which means that’s it’s time to commit murder. Unfriend, unfollow, unlike and un-everything him from your life.
“ ‘You’ll never get over him if you spend your days looking at the time he ate a protein smoothie bowl and posted it on Insta #Chiaseedsarethenewblack
“ ‘And he’s going to notice that you unfollowed and unfriended him. But keep your profile open for a while, just long enough for him to go and look there and see those gorgeous pictures of you having so much fun without him. If you can, grab some arm candy and pose with them, and be sure to put it on Insta for him to see that your life continues without him. In fact, whenever you do something fun, post it.’ ”
“Aaahh, I see,” I said, sipping on the pink cocktail—which, in the short time we’d known each other, had kind of become our thing.
“So, let’s do it,” Alex said. “Let’s take ludicrously sexy photos of ourselves and post and hashtag the hell out of them and then order another drink and defriend them?”
I laughed. “I don’t think you’ll be getting a ludicrously sexy picture out of me anytime soon.”
“What?” He almost shouted this part. “Are you kidding? You don’t even have to try, you’re just naturally smoldering.”
“Smoldering?” Now I was really laughing.
“Totally.”
I eyed Alex suspiciously. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better, you know that, right?”
“I’m not. I assure you.” He sipped his pink drink slowly and looked at me. Scrutinizing me. I suddenly felt a rush of warmth through my body and the back of my knees tingled again.
“You know what your problem is? You lack confidence. This Matt arsehole didn’t notice you for three years, which, by the way, I find extremely hard to fathom, and now you think you’re not noticeable.”
A tightness formed in my chest and all I managed was a slight nod.Nail on head.Talk about hitting it. That was exactly how I’d felt for a while now. Somewhat invisible and not worth noticing. Suddenly, Alex looked around and then stood up.
“Come, the lighting is perfect, let’s go be smoking and sexy and overly happy.” He extended his hand for me to take, the green ribbon looked so prominent on his finger. “Bring that cocktail too. Nothing screams ‘over you’ like a cocktail in hand.”
“Okay. Fine.” I picked the cocktail up and slipped my hand gently into his. He pulled me out the chair with a gentle tug. God, his hand was really very smooth, and so soft. Wasn’t there a saying about surgeon’s hands? “Where are we going?”
“Well, nothing screams ‘over you’ like a beach either.” He led me by the hand to the beach and when we got there, he looked around thoughtfully.
“The sea in background, or the beach in background, or, shall we frolic in the waves?” he asked seriously.
