“I said, is the murder plan just for Callum? Or is it a double homicide to take out Kelly as well?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Can you believe she said I work in an office like it’s something to be ashamed of?”
“Ugh, I know. You’re the one who designed all those fancy systems she’ll be usingifshe qualifies.” Mel scoffs. “It should be a double.”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
Kelly left before Callum informed our guests that the wedding was being put ‘on hold’. I wasn’t able to confront her. Her words stung almost as much as catching her and Caltogether. She’d been my friend—or not, as it transpires—for years. She knows about my strained relationship with my father after I dropped out of med school.
She always told me she thought what I’ve achieved is incredible.
Liar.
But she wasn’t lying about one thing. The look on her face when Callum tried to bullshit me about it being one time told me all I needed to know. It’s been going on for months. And she means something to him. Callum’s obviously told her things and acted in a way that made her believe what they have is something special.
Lying cheating jerk.
“And what’s with Callum thinking he can put all the suppliers on back-up?” Mel rolls her eyes. “Like you’re going to get back from this trip and be all like, ‘It’s okay, I can overlook your dirty, cheating dick ways, and we can get married now. Silly me, I just needed a few weeks to see that I forgive you, and you’ll be the most incredible, loyal husband, after all. Aren’t I such a lucky, deluded wife?’”
“I don’t know. To save his pride, maybe.”
I try to quell the surge of anger that bubbles up inside me. Callum announced that I had been taken ill suddenly, too sick to continue with the wedding. But that we couldn’t wait to celebrate with them once I was feeling better.
The only thing I cared about was getting out of there. The resulting phone calls from my parents—concerned from Mom, irate from Dad—as I holed up at Mel’s place were hard enough to handle.
I’ve let them all believe I’m too sick and contagious to visit face-to-face.
It’s easier than telling the truth.
“Okay,” Mel says decidedly. “We’ve got three weeks here until we have to worry about any of the shitshow back home. We can think about how you’ll tell everyone what really happened on the flight home. But for now”—she looks around the hotel reception area—“let’s enjoy the heck out of this place.”
She grins at me, and I smile back, gratefully.
“How did you even find it on such short notice?” I ask as we wheel our suitcases to the reception desk.
Mel shrugs. “Someone I know said the retreats here are amazing. A proper mind, body, spirit overhaul. You’ll go back to New York feeling like a new woman.”
“Sounds good.”
Going home means facing everyone. And a new, tougher and self-assured version of me is exactly what I need.
The receptionist is wearing an immaculate spa-style white tunic and greets us with a warm smile. “Checking in?”
“For the Revival experience.” Mel beams.
“Welcome. The retreat is held further along the beach in a private setting. Let’s get you checked in, and then our porters can assist you to your accommodation.”
Mel grins at me, practically shaking with excitement. “That sounds great, doesn’t it, Jude?”
I want to match her enthusiasm so I don’t seem like an ungrateful bitch. This retreat will be good for me. Time with Mel. Time to catch up on the mass of emails I have about an upgrade proposal I want to put forward for the records system. One that will make it run smoother, streamlining test result delivery, and reducing patient wait times. One that I just need to secure funding for in order to take it to full development stage.
Long, sunny days working on the beach after a bout of yoga or meditation, or whatever it is this retreat entails, will be perfect. Maybe we’ll even get massages.
I really will go back to New York a new woman.
I smile at Mel, real excitement unfurling in my chest.
“Sounds amazing.”
