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“Only when you spend time on your phone instead of the views.”
His smile widens. “You can put me in a time-out then. But think about it. I have more things planned during these weeks.”
I nod, my teeth digging into my lower lip. It’s not a bad idea. But it’s definitely outside of my comfort zone. Everything about him is… and everything about this trip is... Challenge after challenge. Socializing with strangers, snorkeling in the deep-blue ocean, and exploring a place so different from the one where I grew up.
But maybe that’s the point. I’ve been complacent and sad for too long. Perhaps the thing I need is excitement and just a tinge of fear to spike the adrenaline.
I lift my rum punch in the air. It takes him, this stranger in front of me, a moment to follow suit. All I know of him is his name, his job, and that he saves lizards if they’re trapped. But it’s a good start.
“To honeymooning alone,” I say.
He shakes his head like he can’t believe I just said that, but touches his glass to mine. “To honeymooning alone.”
The beach is glorious. There’s no other word for it. I’m lying on one of the Winter Resort’s lounge chairs, part of my body beneath the shade of an umbrella, watching the turquoise waves lap against the sand. Even I hate myself a little for how good of a time I’m having.
Thanks to the tech gods, the Wi-Fi from the hotel stretches all the way over here, and I’m halfway through the newest episode of my favorite true crime podcast. Beside me is an ice-cold glass of lemonade, courtesy of the gentleman who just walked across the beach selling drinks.
Perfection.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Becky.
Omg. I’m at the grocery store and just saw Cindy.
My stomach tightens reading the words, but the familiar feeling of nausea doesn’t come. It’s been three months, after all, and the time has helped dull the initial pain.
What did you do? Did you duck behind the produce?
No. I’m too pregnant to hide behind anything but an elephant, probably. I gave her the evil eye.
I smile at the screen. Becky had taken my side right off the bat, even though I hadn’t asked her to. The three of us had been a team since high school. Through different colleges and cities, we’d stuck together—regular phone calls and girls’ trips.You have your own relationship,I’d said carefully to Becky.I don’t want you to feel like youhaveto—
Becky had cut me off right then and there.Someone who’ll sleep with their best friend’s fiancé is not a friend I want.
And that had been that.
Maybe Becky will change her mind someday, but she’s the most “law and order” person I know, and for now, she seems to be more outraged than me. Hard to believe, that.
What did Cindy do?
Her and I haven’t had a proper conversation since that explosive day back in November.
She was the one to duck behind the produce! I just realized I shouldn’t have texted you about this. SORRY! Enjoy beautiful Barbados and forget about everyone here in Pinecrest. Send me a picture of the beach and I’ll cry over my swollen ankles.
I snap a picture of my legs in the lounge chair, along with the beautiful waves in the background. Two sailing boats bob peacefully out in the distance. My phone quickly pings with her response.
You deserve it.
I lean back in my lounge chair and try not to think of Cindy. Not of Caleb, either. And definitely not of the two of them together. No, I don’t want that image here.
Happy place. This is my goddamn happy place and my dream vacation.
I succeed somewhat. It helps to have the soothing voice of my favorite podcaster narrating a gruesome double homicide in my ears. It never made any sense to Caleb, my fascination with true crime. But he’s gone, and the podcast is still going, so who really serves me best?
Let it go,I tell myself.You’re on vacation.
I people-watch instead. Look at the other tourists on the beach. A couple of retirees a few chairs down are both sleeping in their loungers. Further away, a young man is industriously rubbing sun lotion on the back of a young woman.
Probably newlyweds.
