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He laughs. “I’ll hold you to it.” He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around to face the door again.
I’m actually going to do this. Buoyed by the first real flare of exhilaration I’ve felt since we got in the Gondola to ride up, I walk over and get strapped up.
The patient instructor makes quick work of putting me in my harnesses and binding my ankles. He shows me all of the safety protocols and explains each of the ropes, and clasps as he fastens them. “No one will push you and you can’t just fall out; you have to jump.”
“Leap of faith, Goddess,” Stone calls, clapping like a sports fan getting worked up as his team takes the field.
I turn around, press my fingers to my lips and raise them in the air in a salute of solidarity and a wish for good luck. Stone lifts his hand, palm open. “I’m pretending you blew me a kiss.” He mimes catching it and pressing the closed fist to his chest.
I burst out laughing. The door creaks open and I know it’s time. But when I turn to face them, it’s giddiness, not fear, causing a riot in my heart.
“You’re all set. Don’t close your eyes on the way down. The view is part of the experience,” the instructor says as I line my toes up to the edge of the door.
I’ve been so afraid of dying, of failing, of being alone that I haven’t taken a risk in ten years. While I was busy being careful, the whole world has passed me by. This feels like making up for it all at once.
The countdown begins, and I clear my mind. When they get to 1, I launch myself off the gondola, and the whole world rushes up to embrace me. Is this what it’s like for newborn babies taking their first breaths?
The thumping pulse of my steadily increasing heart rate becomes one with the wild symphony of rushing water, bird calls, and the roaring wind. I fall and fall; it’s a smooth weightless plummet. And yet, I could swear I’m flying.
And then, it’s over. I bounce a few times as the cord loses velocity. I stretch my arms wide, letting the breeze rush through my splayed fingers, as I take in the swaying palm trees, the lazy lapping river, and the seemingly endless stretch of stone that I’ll remember as the place of my rebirth.
I close my eyes on the way up and savor the exhilarating fullness of triumph. I’ve only had a glimpse of the glory waiting for me on the other side of my fear, and I’m already ravenous for more. The rush of pure adrenaline is instantly addicting. I want to do this all day so I can hold onto the euphoria and pride, I’m feeling. Stone was right. If I can do this, I can do anything. Including divorcing my terrible husband.
The sample-sized bites of happiness I’ve survived on won’t satisfy this new hunger.
I want everything.
Now.
Starting with Stone.
The instructors pull me back on to the gondola and give me a round of high fives as I crest the opening. Two of the crew members help me climb back on and for a minute, I just sit, catching my breath.
“Come on, let’s get that off,” Stone’s big hand cup my elbows and he helps me to my feet. As soon as my legs touch the glass bottom gondola surface, they tremble and send me swaying. Stone’s grip tightens on my arm and holds me steady. “Woah, got you,” he murmurs in my ear. One of the guides drops to his knees and starts to loosen my harness and Stone and I exchange a grin.
“You made that look easy. And I know it’s not. I’ve done this twice before, and it gets easier. But my first time I almost bailed. And it wasn’t anything as badass as jumping from a gondola. You were afraid and you did it anyway.” He strokes my arms with his thumbs, his eyes telling me before he mouths. “Proud of you, Regan.”
My smile, so wide my cheeks hurt, it’s the highest praise anyone could give me. “Me, too,” is all I can manage. I’m tongue tied under the weight of his praise and don’t know what to say.
But when he asks, “How do you feel?”
I find my voice instantly. “Transformed.”
Jealous
Stone
“Come dance with me, Stone,” Regan calls from the dance floor, her smile brighter than all of the oil lamps burning around our camp.
“No, go ahead. I like watching,” I force a grin and she pouts. I hold the smile in place until one in the seemingly endless stream of geriatric men who are our fellow campers grabs her by the waist and whirls her around to her irritating shriek of delight.
I force myself to watch him, twirl and fucking dip her. It’s punishment and conditioning exercise all at once.
I thought I was doing her a favor today.
I thought it would be fun to coax her into my bed tonight. That I’d had this wild fantasy with the woman of my dreams and go back to life as I knew it.
