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OLIVER
The best sex of my life wasn’t supposed to be with mywife. And it wasn’t purely physical, either. I always put effort into making sure a woman enjoys herself, but it was more than that last night. I was completely focused on Hannah, consumed with making sure her pleasure was the priority.
I rationalized it as the one-night stand we never got to have, the night we ended upmarriedinstead. But it felt like more than that. It felt meaningful.
So did waking up next to her again.
I shouldn’t have stayed in her bed. I was stunned she offered, but I shouldn’t have stayed. It muddied everything more. And now I’m dreading returning to her house.
“You ready to head in?” Eddie calls.
“Sure,” I shout back, then lean forward on the board to begin paddling in. My hands cut through the chilly, salty water, the occasional wave helping to propel me toward shore.
This is about the only move Eddie taught me that I’m any good at. I tried to catch a few waves when we first got out here. After three unsuccessful attempts, I opted just to bob on my board and stare at the brightening horizon.
The Pacific Ocean is peaceful and calm this morning, which isn’t ideal surfing conditions. But it’s good for self-reflection.
I always wake up early, but I never reflect. I drink coffee and eat oatmeal. Work out. Shower and put on a suit. Then go into the office.
This is the first morning in a while that’s felt leisurely. Ironic, since I got about three hours of sleep. My eyes should be barely staying open. But I don’t feel sluggish.
Sunbeams filter down from the blue sky, sparkling off the textured surface of the sea. The beach is a sandy strip ahead, dotted with the green leaves of palm trees. And I woke up beside a gorgeous blonde who made me come harder than I ever have in my life.
And that’s the problem.
I wasn’t supposed toenjoythis trip.
“Too bad we didn’t have better waves this morning,” Eddie says, paddling up beside me.
“I don’t think I would have gotten up no matter what the waves looked like,” I reply.
He laughs. “Nah, you just need a little more practice.”
“I’m not much of an athlete.”
“Me neither,” Eddie responds. “Bit of a letdown totheDean Garner.”
The words are light, but I catch the undercurrent. Because while this might be my first time surfing, I have decades of experience when it comes to disappointing fathers. “He seemed happy enough not to have any competition last night.”
A wide grin stretches Eddie’s face. “Hannah usually wins. Dad was thrilled to have her out of the way.” He glances at me. “She’s his favorite. Deservedly so. Rachel and I never took much interest in croquet or the sports agency. That was all Hannah. She’s his protegee.”
I say nothing.
“He’ll test you, but he wants her to be happy.”
I’m not sure if I’m understanding right. Because it almost sounds like Hannah’s brother is suggesting I’m the person who can make that happen. “We’re gettingdivorced, Eddie.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hannah said.”
I nod, glad we’re on the same page.
“Except I’ve seen her with other guys, and she never looked at a single one of them the way she looks at you.” Eddie dropsthatdeclaration on me, then glances toward shore. “Race you!”
He wins.
And it’s mostly because this is the first time I’ve ever tried surfing.
But also because the mess in my head is becoming more snarled, instead of untangling.
