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Together, we descend to the bottom of the yacht and Michael takes an ornamental box out of his bag. It’s bejeweled, set with yellow and red gems. There are a couple of big fat joints inside. Just what I need to take the stress off. An escape!
“There you go,” he hands one to me and whispers so gently into my ear, moving some strands of hair aside, sending shivers down my spine, “Come, let’s smoke on the deck.”
The yacht’s crew consists of two waiters, household staff, a cook, and a skipper. Occasionally they’d approach to ask how we’re doing, ask if we’re hungry or need anything, ensuring we’re content. My head’s spinning. I’m not used to having people cater to my every whim. But that’s what it’s like for the rich and famous. They have lots of free time and far too much money. All day long they are served, flattered, complimented, as if it were the job of everyone around them to facilitate the lie and lives that they’ve managed to create for themselves. Do the extremely rich garner so much admiration and praise even when they’re not in the limelight? I wonder. Their egos must delude them into believing that those who go to so much trouble for them really care about them and aren’t just swayed by interests such as money, inspiration, or power. I, for one, would rather go through an entire lifetime longing for something that only exists in my imagination.
To me, money is very important as it grants security and freedom, especially for women. Of course, I would have enjoyed limitlessly spending and buying what my heart desires, but there’s more to life than that. After all, money’s just a means to an end, for making life easier. However, economic freedom is the alpha and omega of womanhood, in my opinion. A woman who isn’t productive, independent, who doesn’t constantly reinvent herself is, unfortunately, left behind. And the thought occurs to me: Just like I am right now.
One must never be dependent on others. Despite the enjoyment, tranquility, wonderful company and effort put in by others, I can’t see myself ever feeling at ease with this excessive, smarmy attention.
But, for blowing off some steam and escaping my mundane routine, it really is perfect! I blend into the atmosphere and yield to the barrage of luxuries afforded to me, and all of my attention is solely given to him, my idol, who has in some inexplicable way (perhaps it was even destiny?) emerged into my life.
I happily breathe the fresh sea air into my lungs, and I’m overtaken by a feeling of gratitude. The sea is so glorious and enchanting, so soothing and kind. Perhaps the Almighty has decided to send Michael to me as a gift, to envelop me in renewed hope and to remind me of the delicious taste of living.
Michael looks into my eyes, as if challenging my mental tribulations.
“Yes, it’s time,” he says and takes a joint out of the decorative box. The waiter pours us some chilled champaign. My self-destructive urges have always been high, I ponder. It’s almost a miracle that I’ve been able to survive thus far without falling into dark places. I experienced everything that came my way, except for one trivial thing: building a home and family and keeping them. But a house without the people you love is not a home. It’s nothing but four faded walls. It seems like I keep insisting to be consumed by my own trauma while Michael tries to figure out who I am and to interact with me. If he only knew he needn’t even try that hard. He had me at ‘I’m Michael’. After all, he’s the ideal man when it comes to looks, talent, and charisma. And, in reality, he’s even more impressive and stunning, yet I still find it difficult to give in to the excitement and delight of being alone here with him.
“Cheers,” we clink glasses of bubbly champaign. I take a few little sips and wait for Michael to light up the joint already. I love smoking weed so much, when will I grow up? When? I take a few hits and immediately realize that this stuff is stronger than what I smoke at home.
I recall how sometimes, after putting Roy to bed, Matthew and I would sit together, drink wine, cuddle, watch movies or TV shows, smoke, laugh and make love. During those days I couldn’t wait for him to come home from work, alert and expectant. I always made an effort with my appearance, prepared dinner, made sure our son greeted him with a smile and, as soon as he’d walk through the door, I’d fly into his arms. The way I used to wait for my own father to come home from work, embrace me and make me feel he would protect me from anything.
‘Ok, Sam, I hope you’ve realized by now that it was wrong to look for a father figure in your partners,’ I say to myself, especially considering the fact that mine usually gave me broken hugs. You aimed high and all you got was the pollen off the treetop. But now I just want to forget. Forget the pain, the tears, the guilt, the sorrow, humiliation, and loneliness I feel.
“Listen, Sam,” Michael interrupts the thoughts and self-admonition running through my mind.
“Yes?” I reply softly and raise my eyes to meet his. His eyes are like the sea, and they twist my heart with excitement. Undoubtedly, Michael is a perfect man, master of all men, and my sweetest fantasy.
“We’re sailing to Kastellorizo, the island closest to us.” Michael explains. “It’s relatively small and intimate and there are hardly any tourists there. We’ll be able to spend a few hours there undisturbed. Luckily our two days only start tomorrow.” He smiles. “We have nearly half a day to spend at the beach.”
“That sound really lovely.” I’m excited. “It perfectly suits my mood, too,” I think out loud. “Something liberating, but not busy, that doesn’t require any special effort.”
“Besides,” he continues, “we’re here to disconnect, anyway. To escape, breathe in the sea air, get to know each other, and...”
“And...?” I reply. Again, with his ‘and’...
“Michael,” I get up and stand in front of him. “Listen, you have no idea, but you’re really my prince charming and the realization of all my dreams rolled into one.”
Michael, stunned, looks at me with compassion, enjoying the inexplicable one-woman show of the girl who, up until a moment ago, has been as fragile as a leaf in the breeze flying in all directions and is now becoming someone who speaks her mind unapologetically and with confidence.
“Listen, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. It certainly isn’t taken for granted. My dream has come true,” I clarify. “But I’m scared. Not of you, God forbid, or of what could happen between us. I’m not a five-star kind of girl.” I smile at him bitterly. “I have enough integrity and confidence to stand here in front of you now and tell you that I know you’re out of my league but, if you still want us to go with the flow and then go in separate directions, I have no problem with that because...”
“Stop right there, please!” Michael takes my hand; his eyes are full of sadness mixed with concern. “Listen, Sam, we’re here together now, far from land, and we have no way to escape each other. I’m really not the kind of guy you think I am. I’m aware of the image people have formed about me over the years, but that’s showbiz. And another thing,” he continues, full speed ahead, “stop mocking at your own expense! It’s not very sexy. Especially given the fact that, when I look at you, I see the ideal woman. Your complexion is a glowing, delicate mocha. Your shiny, flowing hair is incredible,” he lightly slides his hand on my hair. “Your body is toned and perfect. You have hourglass curves. Geez, I can’t believe you’re a mom! You’re so petite.” He giggles. “Your skin is unbelievably smooth,” he strokes my shoulder. “You have a beautiful, exotic face, long lashes, a winning smile, teeth, lips,” he says and deepens his gaze, looking at my lips; and I feel naked under his stare. “In short,” he concludes, “you’re an A-lister. That’s what I see just by looking at you, though we don’t know each other. So, I ask of you, stop belittling yourself because it really saddens me, especially because I know too well from personal experience about that. Accept the fact that I think you’re beautiful and this is the last time,” he warns, wagging his finger in cheeky defiance. “Look how great this is. We’re on this voyage together, away from it all. Just me, the sea, and the gorgeous woman by my side.”
He lays his hand on my shoulder and I’m drawn into his arms. I am happy.
“Thank you so much, Michael,” I smile, both content and embarrassed by his compliments. “You’re right. I apologize. It’s just that I’ve been through a hard couple of months. I should move on to the next phase and let bygones be bygones, just as we left the land behind us.” I look more deeply into the glorious sea. “And thanks for your patience, I really appreciate it,” I smile coyly.
“Please. May I remind you, I also need this getaway. I haven’t even told you who broke my heart,” Michael smiles bitterly.
“That’s right, you haven’t,” I reply, at a loss for words. He already knows I know everything about him and also about his girlfriend, Dawn. I’m stunned that I feel jealous of her, shocked at myself and at him.
His expression turns grave.
“Dawn and I broke up a couple of weeks ago. She shattered my heart to pieces and that’s why I wanted to get away from everybody. It’s important for me that you understand that I’m a man who takes relationships seriously. I’m way past the one-night stands and that sort of crap. Look, I was born into a very wealthy, well-known, and well-connected family. This world isn’t new to me. I’ve been jaded by it all and, therefore, don’t see what you see when you look at me.”
“No, Michael,” I reply. “After all, we both know you’re so busy and that this won’t last. That’s why I’m asking myself what you are doing here, with me of all people, and why are you trying impress me? It’s flattering, of course, but there’s no need for that. I’m trying to explain to you, again, that I have no problem joining you on any adventure; but I really am asking you, please be honest with me and don’t try to spin my head with all sorts of big gestures that would make me really happy now but sadden me later.”
We both fall silent. He looks at me compassionately and lightly sighs.
