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“Is that what you did?” I smile.
“For a big part, yeah. Dad made sure that money wasn’t a problem, but I wanted to travel and actually see the world, not just the inside of the next hotel. So, I did. I backpacked, stayed in hostels, and saw everything I wanted. The air travel was the only thing I didn’t scrimp on.”
“Nice to travel first class.”
“Yep. What about you? What have you been up to?” He changes the focus quickly. His description of the last six years wasn’t quite the colourful retelling I had hoped.
“I was still in school when you ghosted.”
His brows crumple together, unhappy with the description; however, in my head, that’s exactly what he did. It started a bit when they went to university and moved away, but they still came back a lot, and we had dinner, went to the cinema, or just hung out. He was always happy to spend some time with me. But then, after graduating, he stopped showing up – stopped visiting altogether.
“You might not see it like that, but for a teenage girl who’d had a friend her whole life, disappearing and then not showing up certainly felt like ghosting.”
“You might have a point.”
“A big fat one. I genuinely thought we were friends.”
“We were.”
“So?” I wait for the explanation, and it seems I’m certainly not over the way he treated me.
“What do you want me to say? You were sixteen the last time I saw you. Too young and too innocent.” He shakes his head.
“So that means you just cut ties? No birthday visits or even Christmas. Up until then, you were there for every one of our family celebrations. You missed my eighteenth and twenty-first.”
“I’m sorry, Lil.” He looks down and takes a drink of his water, avoiding my eyes. Even his posture is uncomfortable, and while that wasn’t my intention, I’m glad he can see the problem. And maybe this conversation can finally put my mind at rest. There was no reciprocal feeling between us. He saw me as Eric’s kid sister. Nothing more. And my over-active imagination did the rest.
The server arrives with our starters, and we both seem a little easier with the distraction. We eat in relative silence, and a little bubble of disappointment surfaces. We used to get on so well. Now, it’s painful to stir up a conversation after years of not talking.
We continue our meal with small chit-chat. It’s excruciating, and I start to second-guess my decision to stay – aside from the obvious.
“Meet me after breakfast at the beach?” he asks as we walk slowly past the swimming pool.
“Sunbathing?” I’m a little underwhelmed, but I’m going to take all the time I have out here.
“No, I’m going to show you the best part of the island.”
“Sounds fun. Do I need to pack anything?”
“A bathing suit, sun cream, and that’s it.”
We both have that moment of awkwardness, not sure if we should say goodnight or have a drink or coffee or something else. Neither one of us looks directly at the other, and I cringe internally.
“Goodnight then.” I smile at Liam. “Thank you for dinner.”
He nods, and I turn and make my way towards my room, but as I walk away, my pulse quickens. In my head, I imagine Liam is going to run after me and pull me back to kiss me. Or ask to come back to my room or something much more romantic. It’s a huge stretch for my fantasy world, considering the dinner date we just endured.
But I reach my room with no interruption, and I fall back against the door, confused as I’m both disappointed and feeling like I’m caught in a dream.
I open the doors back out to the private pool and listen for a few minutes.
“This is ridiculous,” I scold myself and go to bed.
But as comfortable and relaxed as I feel, I don’t drift off into peace. I toss and turn, unable to clear my mind of the boy I once knew and the man he is today.
My sleep did not vanquish my memory of the awkward dinner last night, and I’m hesitant to go and repeat it at breakfast, but I’m craving coffee. Before making my way to the dining room, I drain one of the travel sunscreens and apply it to my chest, arms, and face, put on my bikini, and shove the only other dress I have over my head.
The dining space is deserted when I enter. A single table – the same one we occupied last night – is set up for breakfast. As I take my seat, the lady who checked me in appears with acafetièreof coffee.
