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He looks at me like he can feel the odd mood I’m in. “Did it go all right?” he asks. “Do you want to be alone?”
“No, I really don’t.”
He nods, a small smile curving his lips. “All right, then.”
We walk through the garden, now lit with intricately placed outdoor lights. The air is thick with humidity, but a comforting warmth envelops us.
“How was it?” he repeats. “Really?”
“With Kaelie?” I ask. Not that I need the clarification, but I ask anyway, the moment stretching between us. With every step, I get further and further away from the memory of the past.
“Yes,” he says.
“She told me some stuff I wasn’t happy to hear.” Apparently, my ex hasn’t told anyone in his family why we ended our engagement.”
Phillip gives a slow shake of his head. “Can’t own up to his mistakes.”
“No, it doesn’t seem like it.”
“You’re better off without him.”
I look at Phillip. He’s walking steadily beside me, his hands in his pockets. He notices my glance. “Not that it makes it okay, you know,” he adds. “What he did.”
“Thank you. I think I’m better off, too.”
“Good riddance,” he murmurs and pulls out the key card from his pocket.
We end up back on the patio of his bungalow. There’s a fire in my stomach, put there by the rum punch. The island seems to run on them, and for as long as I’m here, so do I. It’s been an excellent fuel so far.
I toss my sandals on the stony path and sink down onto one of his outdoor chairs. “Imagine if life could be like this every day,” I say quietly. “No major worries or concerns. No drama or sadness. Just beautiful weather and the ocean close by.”
“You’d get bored after a week,” he says. “Want something to drink?”
“Yes.”
I listen to the familiar shuffle as he opens the sliding patio door into his bungalow. The stirring of ice and uncorking of bottles from his minibar.
I look up at the stars while I wait. This trip has been more challenging than I expected it to be, and in none of the ways I’d anticipated. I’ve felt different here, yet also more myself than I’ve ever felt before. Maybe that’s what happens on a vacation. You leave all your stuff behind, all the baggage, and for a short period of time, you can forge an entirely new identity. Keeping only the best parts of yourself and adding new facets, like trying on a costume for size.
Caleb is in the past. Kaelie being here had dragged it up again, but sitting in this beautiful backyard with the starlit sky overhead and the ocean nearby, I force myself to consign the memories back into the past.
Where they belong. Wherehebelongs.
“Tell me something you’ve written,” Phillip calls.
“Nope.”
“Not a single thing?”
“No.”
“Damn,” he mutters and returns to my side. He hands me a chilled glass. “A rum sour for the lady. I’m having brandy. I think I’ve had enough of rum for a while.”
“Really? I still love it.” I take a long sip of my drink as he sits down on a patio chair across from me. But he’s not doing the same. He’s just watching me. “What?” I ask.
“This is the wrong time to go mute,” he says, running a hand over his jaw. There’s speculation in his eyes. “Tell me why you won’t talk about it? About your writing?”
I look back up at the night sky. “No.”
