He grabs my single suitcase from the trunk of the car, and he leads me inside to the lobby.
This place is pretty fucking sweet. The lobby is all teals and whites with an obvious beach theme, not surprising considering the tower I’ll be staying in for the next month is called the Beachfront Tower. It’s the adults-only tower with upscale suites and exclusive pools and beaches. I’m hoping it’ll give me the balance of privacy and luxury I’m here for since I can’t be home doing what I really want to be doing.
It's a good place to sit in my misery, I guess.
We walk to the reception desk, where I check in and tip the valet.
“You’re staying in our Ocean Blue suite for…oh, for the next thirty days. Is that correct?” the woman behind the counter asks.
I nod. “That is correct.”
“Wonderful. You’ll have access to a personal butler service throughout your stay, and as you’re on one of the highest levels of the Beachfront Tower, you’ll have access to the rooftop pool area during the day, which becomes our signature nightclub at night.”
“Great,” I mutter. I’m not much of a club guy, so I doubt I’ll be using that particular amenity.
She slides the keycard across the counter toward me in a booklet with my room number written on it. Twenty-six twenty-six. Shouldn’t be too hard to remember, particularly because the number I’ve worn on my baseball jersey since I was a kid happens to be twenty-six.
My birthday.
The twenty-sixth of April.
I’ll be turning twenty-eight while I’m here.
Who knows what that celebration will look like. I picture myself blowing out a candle solo at one of the restaurants here at this resort, and I realize I likely won’t mention to anybody that it’s my birthday. It’s easier that way. I’m not here to celebrate anyway.
“Mr. Bradley,” an older gentleman says as he approaches me. “I’m Clive, your personal butler during your stay, sir. My team and I are available twenty-four hours a day for anything you may require. Allow me to escort you to your room.”
I stick my hand out to shake his. “Call me Archer.”
I follow him toward the exit, and he makes conversation as we walk.
“Is this your first time in the Bahamas?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve visited the Bahamas before. Not this resort or island, though.”
“Wonderful. How long are you staying with us?”
“The next month,” I say.
He looks surprised by that, just like the lady at reception was. I suppose they don’t get many long-term guests here, and the ones that do must have some money in the bank since this place doesn’t come cheap—especially not the suite I picked.
He sets my suitcase in the back of a utility golf cart with a rear cargo bed, and he nods to the back seat. He sits beside me, and the driver takes off for the Beachside Tower.
Apparently this place is so big that we need a golf cart to get around.
It’s a short drive, and he points out various amenities as we travel toward my tower. Restaurants, shops, pools, activities—all things I forget immediately after he says them.
I have thirty days to get to know this place, and I don’t have a whole hell of a lot going on. I’ll probably get to know it all pretty well by the time I leave.
I look up at the tower as we approach, and I feel this sense of awe for a few beats. This wasn’t at all where I was expecting to spend the month of April, but I guess I might as well make the most of it.
I’m leaving behind a breakup that resulted in the ex I still love marrying my brother, my mother’s death a little over three months ago, and a long, unfair game suspension thanks to my father, who played me.
I draw in a deep breath of the humid, salty Caribbean air, and when I let that air go, I imagine I’m letting go of all those things I’m leaving behind. I’m letting go of the feelings I’m still harboring for Tatum. I’m letting go of the grief over losing a mother I never really knew. I’m letting go of the anger at my father.
I came here for renewal, and I plan to leave here a changed man.
It all begins now.
