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Ian
Last Valentine’s
Anguilla quickly becomes my favorite place on Earth. We spend our days alternating between a long, rectangular adults-only pool and a private beach area. Both offer waitservice and spectacular views. But by far, the best part of this holiday is the baby moon, meaning we have lots and lots of sex in our suite. When I told her she’s perfect for me, I didn’t lie. I’m not even sure what I love more about her. Those sunny, light blue eyes, her laugh, her giggle, her soft breasts that fill my palm, her responsive nipples, the little sounds she makes, or the way she feels around me, so tight, so perfect. No man could ask for a better vacation.
When she goes off to her spa appointments, I check in with the hospital and the practice. I also alternate between running through the resort property or weights in the hotel gym. Other than a few dinners out, we haven’t left the resort. There’s no need.
Tonight, we have reservations at one of the resort restaurants overlooking the ocean. Sunny plans on wearing the dress I gave her for Valentine’s. I’m in shorts and a short-sleeve button down shirt, sipping water while kicked back in the lounge chair on our balcony, relaxing while Sunny gets ready.
When I hear heels clicking on stone, I stand, and, like she so often does, she leaves me breathless. Yes, that’s a description straight out of a cheesy romance, but as a doctor, the cliche description fits. My ribcage tightens and lungs contract. Her presence forces me to breathe more deeply.
Her golden hair cascades down her shoulders in loose waves, and the blue dress I purchased because it so closely matches her eyes fits tightly around her breasts and falls loosely down to her calves. The gold heels I bought her glitter, and her sun-kissed skin glows.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
She glances down at her dress and touches it absentmindedly. “You have good taste.”
“No. You could wear anything and you’d look stunning, but this…here, let me get a photo.”
She rolls those blue eyes, silently rebuking me, but complies with a soft smile. I snap a photo on my phone, double-check it came out and slip it into my back pocket.
“Hungry?” Our reservations are in five minutes. The concierge helped me time our reservation so by the time dessert arrives, the sun will be setting over the ocean.
Fingers intertwined, we stroll through the resort, past the rectangular pool with a forever edge that visually blends into the turquoise waters, where we spent our day catered to by staff, to the open-air restaurant, SALT.
My muscles are putty. My thoughts clear. For once, I’m well-rested and thoroughly satiated. The hospital feels like it’s a million miles away. After dinner, I’ll take Sunny back to the room for another phenomenal fantasy-fulfilling night. Life is perfect.
As we approach the entrance, two kids run by us, shrieking with laughter. The girls look oddly familiar.
“Girls.”
I freeze, staring ahead at the giggling girls, the younger one chasing the older one. Sunny glances over her shoulder, and her expression morphs into one of shock.Fuck.
In slow motion, I turn. Sunny discreetly pulls her hand from mine.
Olivia, my sister-in-law, smiles as she approaches. She’s wearing a long, white dress that’s identical to Sunny’s except for the color, and that’s when I realize Sam bought the dress from the resort shop.
But the similarities between the two women end with the dress. Whereas Sunny is a golden blonde with topaz blue eyes, Olivia has slick, long, dark hair and high cheekbones that lend a regal air.
Sam approaches, his facial expression stern. Sunny’s sun-kissed skin has lost all its vibrant hue. My heartrate increases. I stare at my older brother, attempting to read him. Hunting for anger.
“Hi. Don’t worry. You don’t have to sit with us.” Olivia’s friendly intonations compete for my attention. “They sit the tables with kids a little farther back.” She smiles graciously and extends her hand to Sunny. “Hi. I’m Olivia. You look so familiar. Have we met?”
Sunny stands frozen with a look of round-eyed astonishment. Olivia slowly withdraws her offered hand.
Sam’s expression slowly transitions from menacing glower into a cordial smile. His hands rest on his hips, and he rocks back on his heels.
“Sandra,” he says. Olivia looks between the three of us, then over her shoulder at her unleashed daughters.
Sam belts out a deep chuckle. His mouth drops open. The open-mouthed smile is a mix of astonishment and humor. One hand scrubs his hair back and forth, and then he pulls it together. He loops one arm behind his wife’s back and says, “Olivia, this is Sandra. I’ve mentioned her before.”
To Olivia’s credit, she doesn’t miss a beat. She smiles widely, practically beaming. “Sandra, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
I study Sunny for signs she might be suffering from a panic attack. She hasn’t moved since we spotted my brother. I’m not sure she’s even blinked.
Sam, possibly recognizing her discomfort, says, “Sandra, I haven’t seen you in years. God, how long has it been?”
She remains still, frozen. She’s no longer holding my hand. I don’t know when she pulled it out of mine, but the distance between us feels significant.
