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This was how it had to be. It wasn’t easy, but it was what would be best for both of us.
With my mind feeling such a mix of emotions, I decided it was best to start getting myself ready for dinner with everyone tonight. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have needed this much time, but I already knew this was going to have me moving at a snail’s pace.
So, I got myself off the bed and made my way to the shower to start the process. What I didn’t do while I was in there was slip my hand between my legs to pleasure myself.
I couldn’t. The only way it would have been successful would have been by me closing my eyes and thinking about Johnny, about how things used to be with us.
And how could I do that now when he’d likely already moved on? We’d already said it to each other months ago. This week was just a formality, one final compromise in our marriage for the sake of our friends’ happiness.
My heart ached.
I trudged along as the hours passed and just barely finished getting myself ready on time to leave for dinner.
Time to face the music.
I wished I would have been able to do more than just steeling my spine and pretending that everything was fine, because I needed it.
When I stepped out into the shared space between our rooms, I found Johnny there, looking as handsome as ever.
The sight of him quickly weakened my resolve.
And when he muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Fuck, this is torture,” I couldn’t stop the blade that felt like it’d already been sunk into my heart from twisting.
“What?” I rasped, wanting him to speak directly to me and confirm that I’d heard him incorrectly.
“What?” he countered.
“I thought you said something,” I replied.
His eyes lingered on mine in silence for a bit before he shook his head and insisted, “It wasn’t important.”
Right.
I guess that made sense from his standpoint. Him having to spend this time with me being akin to torture when he would have likely preferred he was somewhere else with someone else, or even just preferred that it was someone else who was here with him instead, probably wasn’t important enough to discuss.
Hurt speared through me, and the pain I felt was unbearable.
I had no choice but to suck it up, though.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
There was no sense in making myself more upset. Our friends were counting on us to be there for them this week, so what I was feeling couldn’t take center stage. I pushed all the sadness away to somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind, where I’d be able to call upon them after this week was over.
“Yes. You?” Johnny returned.
“I’m ready.”
He dipped his chin and moved toward the door.
I followed behind him, an overwhelming sense of trepidation moving through me with each step I took in his direction.
As we walked from our villa toward another resort restaurant, I briefly considered telling him about how he’d acted on the beach with me today, but for some reason, I couldn’t manage to find the words. Hearing him in the shower when I returned from helping Thea with her outfit selection for tonight had thrown me, and I was sent spiraling with what felt like hundreds of awful thoughts about his ability to not only have moved on so quickly but also to do it while we were technically still married.
Talking to him about anything at this point just felt like it’d be an arduous chore.
So, we walked together in silence.
But when we made it to the entrance of the restaurant, I wished I would have said something to him on our journey. Because I had a feeling he had taken my silence to mean that I wasn’t in the mood to be argumentative.
