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I have less than two weeks to convince her.
Though I head for the dining hall, I don't feel particularly hungry. That's probably because Vanessa kicked me to the curb again. I had known from the start, since the day I came up with my deceitful plan, that winning her heart again would be the most difficult task I've ever undertaken. Should I tell her what I did to get her on this island? Deceit is rarely a good thing, but I did all of this for her. She wouldn't talk to me before we came here. Sure, she was polite during the few times when we saw each other after the divorce. But I don't want polite, awkward conversation. I want my wife.
How will she feel if she finds out about my deception?
I can't worry about that right now. Whether she'll hate me or not is a moot point unless I can make some headway with rekindling what we used to have. No, that's not right. I don't want what we used to have. I want something better, stronger, deeper. We had a good marriage, but those days are gone. We need to develop a mature relationship that's not predicated on our kids being around as a buffer.
That thought makes me stop in the middle of chewing a cube of papaya. Is that what I thought our kids were? A buffer? Not sure why I had that thought. I love our Greg, Nicole, and April, and Vanessa loves them too. They aren't a tool for avoiding our relationship issues. I need to discuss all of this with Vanessa, if she'll let me.
How long should I wait before broaching the subject again?
I finish my breakfast while pondering that question, but I don't see Vanessa during that time. Either she prefers to eat later in the morning or she doesn't want to bump into me. I have no reasonable excuse for hanging around in the dining hall once I've finished eating, so I make my way out onto the big patio. I'm the only person sitting alone at a table. Couples enjoy breakfast outdoors at a smattering of other tables.
This resort really is for couples. I feel like a third wheel just sitting here, waiting for someone to beg me to hang out with them. At least I brought a magazine and a glass of lemonade. That makes me seem slightly less pathetic.
Zach ambles out onto the patio with a pretty young woman. They hold hands as they cross the space, having emerged from the side of the building rather than the lobby. Great, that's exactly who I want to see right now. The kid who tried to seduce my ex-wife. I hold my magazine up a little higher, trying to shield my face in the hope Zach won't notice me.
"Hey, Craig. Isn't this an awesome morning?"
Aw, shit. I must have miscalculated how high I needed to hold my magazine to use it as a shield. I lower the magazine and try to smile, though it comes out feeling rather forced. "Good morning, Zach."
"Mind if we join you?"
I don't want to seem like a jealous jerk, which means I have only one option. I smile again, this time doing my damnedest to seem happy. "Sure, I'd love some company."
Zach sits down opposite me, and his girlfriend takes the seat between us. "Oh, hey, I should introduce you. Craig Hathaway, meet Aspen Patel."
I smile at the girl. "It's nice to meet you, Aspen."
What kind of a name is that? An aspen is a tree, not a person. I will never understand the names younger generations choose for their children. But she seems like a sweet girl, and it's not her fault if her parents were drunk when they picked a name for her.
Fortunately, Zach and Aspen do most of the talking. I mainly have to sit here listening and pretending to care about whether that bird they saw yesterday was a cockatoo or a parrot. I might enjoy the conversation, sort of, if I weren't constantly thinking about Vanessa and last night. At least Zach has the good sense not to mention my ex-wife.
Until he does.
Zach grins at me. "Hey, I saw you and Vanessa heading down the woods trail yesterday. You guys must be getting along a lot better now." He gives me an exaggerated wink. "Might be wedding bells real soon, huh?"
"Don't spread that rumor. Vanessa likes to keep things private, so I can't confirm or deny what you implied."
He laughs. "I love the way you talk, man. It's like you're a secret agent or something."
Aspen leans forward, aiming her excited expression at me. "Are you really a secret agent?"
"Sorry, no. I'm a data scientist."
"Isn't that, like, kind of the same thing?"
"Not really."
She bites her bottom lip, and her brows wrinkle. "What is a data scientist?"
"I collate and analyze data to come up with stats and write reports so that businesses can better serve their customers."
"Wow, that sounds hard."
"I've been doing this job for fifteen years. It's old hat for me."
She touches my hand. "You should get a different hat. Something that would fit you better."
