Honeymoon for One

by MacIntosh, Portia

  We’re interrupted by a hotel employee, bursting through the door with Savino close behind him.

  ‘Please, allow me to apologise,’ the man says. ‘A terrible mix-up. We have never had anything like this happen before, where guests have been shown into a room where other guests are already staying. Mr Tyler called to advise that he would be arriving a couple of days late, and Mrs Tyler did say Mr Tyler would be joining later…’

  Crap, I did say that, didn’t I? I had no idea it would occur to him to actually turn up though, and to phone ahead and tell them to expect him.

  I watch as his attention switches from the group to the sex toy on the coffee table. I need to throw that thing in the sea. He just sort of shrugs it off, as though he’s seen some things before. He isn’t about to be fazed by your run-of-the-mill dildo.

  ‘As a goodwill gesture, we would like to show our new guests into a new room. We only want love, here at San Valentino.’

  ‘Oh, super,’ Eva says.

  ‘I booked a suite,’ Daniel insists, redirecting his anger to the hotel employee. ‘I booked a suite, so I want a suite.’

  ‘I booked a suite,’ I point out.

  ‘We do have one more next door,’ the man replies. ‘But it would need to be paid for…’

  ‘Money is no object,’ Daniel replies.

  Eva beams. I’ll bet she thinks she’s landed on her feet.

  ‘Don’t you dare touch our joint bank account,’ I warn him. ‘Not so you can have a holiday with your mistress.’

  The poor hotel employee looks as if he wishes he could be anywhere else.

  ‘Actually my parents gave us money as a wedding gift,’ Daniel replies. ‘I’ll use that.’

  I seethe. What an unbelievable bastard. I don’t know if this is the real him or just a knee-jerk reaction to the Freddie situation, which he seems to be taking surprisingly badly.

  ‘Please, come this way,’ he tells them. ‘And you are all invited to dine in Ristorante Sabatini. Perhaps tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Awesome,’ Freddie says.

  As Daniel and Eva are shown the door, he looks back at me, eyeballing us with a real resentment.

  As soon as they’re gone, Freddie quickly lets go of me. The show is officially over.

  ‘I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep the mark,’ he says hurriedly. ‘I could hear him, from outside, and… I don’t know, I thought maybe if I pretended we were together…’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, wiping the tear that has escaped my eye. It hasn’t escaped Freddie’s attention though.

  ‘Hey, do you want me to go?’ he says. ‘I can give you some privacy, check in with you later?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  Freddie gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading back outside.

  Initially, seeing Daniel just made me angry. Then, when Freddie stepped in, I started to feel smug. But it wasn’t a genuine smugness. I don’t actually have a movie-star lover. Still, it felt great, having them both see me here with a genuine Hollywood movie star, and not crying my eyes out over a bottle of champagne and a jar of Nutella.

  Now that they’re being checked into the suite next to mine… I just feel sick. The thought of sharing a wall with them makes me feel sick, knowing they’re together behind, hearing them on the other side…

  I feel as if I have one foot in paradise, and the other in hell, and now all I want to do is go home.

  14

  Day 6

  You can always rely on your best friend for good advice, and Ali’s advice regarding Daniel turning up was: ‘Fuck him. Fuck him and fuck his dumb little bimbo too.’

  I don’t imagine she meant literally, but you never know with Ali.

  She told me that under no circumstances am I allowed to abandon this holiday, just because they have shown up. She says that I was here first and that I should stand my ground.

  I decided not to tell her about Freddie, because I imagine her advice would be exactly the same: ‘Fuck him’ – and this time she would mean it literally. Ali is a firm believer that the best way to get over a man is to get under another one, but I can’t do that. Even if I thought it was a good idea, I don’t think I’d be brave enough to try. I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders, self-confidence-wise, at the moment.

  I text her back and tell her not to worry about me, and to enjoy her date tonight. There’s no sense in both of us having no love life, is there?

  Someone who isn’t without a love life is Daniel, my ex – do I call him my ex now? I suppose it feels weird because we never formally broke up, but we absolutely have and, if there was any doubt in my mind, the fact that I can hear Eva squealing through the wall is all the confirmation I would need.

  A knock on the front door jerks me from my thoughts.

  I’ve been holed up here since yesterday, opening the door just once, to let in my room service last night, and even then I only opened the door for a few seconds, and only wide enough to yank the poor guy delivering it through the door before closing it quickly behind him. I figured that might seem a little weird, so I had the foresight to hide (not) my dildo, but only thirty seconds before I answered the door, so it’s currently living under the sofa.

  I haven’t ordered anything this morning though (not yet), and obviously I’m not expecting any visitors. I’m tempted to pretend I’m not in, but this isn’t actually my house.

  As I open the door, the bright sunlight burns my eyes, causing me to squint. I’ve had the various curtains and blinds closed since yesterday, because I hated the idea of Daniel and Eva frolicking around out by the pool, looking inside and seeing me by myself or, worse, not even thinking to look in my direction because they’re way too wrapped up in themselves.

  ‘I didn’t realise you were a vampire,’ I hear Freddie say.

  As I force my eyes open, I see him standing there in front of me, the sunlight causing a sort of angelic glow around his body.

  ‘I didn’t realise you were a movie star,’ I answer. ‘So we’ll call it a draw.’

  ‘I wasn’t keeping it from you,’ he tells me. ‘At first, I thought you knew, and then, when I realised you actually didn’t know who I was, it was kind of nice.’

  I guess I can appreciate that, and I don’t feel as if he was trying to deceive me, I just feel embarrassed for not realising it was him.

  ‘Thanks for yesterday,’ I tell him. ‘You did me a huge favour. I had no idea they were going to show up. It was so embarrassing.’

  ‘I feel like there’s a conversation in that,’ he says.’

  ‘There is,’ I reply. I don’t suppose he wants to hear it. ‘Well, thanks. It’s no fun being single on this island, but it’s even less fun when your ex turns up.’

  ‘That’s why I’m here, actually,’ he says.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry,’ I say, stepping aside. ‘Come in.’

  ‘I did try the terrace door first,’ he says as he passes me.

  ‘Yeah, I’m hiding,’ I confess. ‘And, after yesterday, having it open feels like I'm inviting trouble.’

  Freddie takes a seat at the dining table, so I sit opposite him.

  ‘Well, how would you feel about coming out of hiding?’ he asks.

  ‘Not warmly.’

  ‘You know how I did you that big favour yesterday,’ he starts.

  ‘Yes…’

  ‘Well – and this isn’t why I did it – but I’ve been thinking: we can help each other.’

  ‘You got any exes turning up, who you want me to make jealous? Because you’re not going to do that with me.’

  I laugh awkwardly at my self-deprecating jokes. Ali always tells me off for making fun of myself. She says that women have enough to contend with, and enough people making fun of them, so we shouldn’t be doing it with each other. I think she’s onto something. Ali is unapologetically herself, and she’s one of the happiest people I know. She doesn’t care what people think of her, and she definitely
doesn’t need the validation of any man. If any man dared to dump her, it’s not even like they’d need to be scared (even though she can be pretty scary) because she just wouldn’t care. Ali doesn’t want to be around people who don’t want to be around her. I’ve always wished I were more like Ali, but I just don’t have the balls. Perhaps now that I’m single again, and I’m going to have to thicken up my skin, I should try a little harder to be more like her – at the very least with matters of the heart.

  ‘Nothing like that.’ Freddie laughs. ‘I really, really want a massage, but as you know I can’t get one, because they’re only for couples.’

  ‘You want me to massage you?’

  Freddie laughs even harder.

  ‘No, Lila, I want you to come for a massage with me. Think about it – we can do all the couple stuff together. And the added bonus for you is that it will piss off your ex.’

  Oh, God, he probably thinks I want to massage him now. I push the embarrassment from my mind and consider his proposal.

  ‘He didn’t like seeing us together, did he?’ I say.

  ‘When I hugged you, and your robe fell open – damn, I thought he was going to explode with anger.’

  He really did. I’ve never seen such a fire under him.

  ‘That was a nice touch, by the way. It’s none of my business why you were wearing it in the first place, but…’ I think he sees me wincing. ‘No matter what you want to do, I think you’ll enjoy screwing with him.’

  ‘So, we’re just going to pretend to be together, so we can do the couples’ stuff?’ I ask, to clarify, because I’m worried I’ve got the wrong end of the stick here.

  ‘Exactly,’ he replies with enthusiasm. ‘Why should we suffer because we’re single?’

  I can’t believe a movie star is lumping us together in the same sad, single slump. He really could have any girl he wanted. I suppose being here, surrounded by couples, there are no single girls for him to bag, other than me by some weird coincidence and, come on, he wouldn’t look twice at me, and I'm not even getting into what leagues we’re in as far as attractiveness goes (spoiler: we are not in the same league) but so far all he has seen is me being a nightmare, turning up with more baggage than Mariah Carey, bickering with my ex – who has already moved on. I am not at my most attractive right now and definitely only being invited to hang around with Freddie by default, but that’s okay. I want to do all the fun stuff the island has to offer, and of course I want to rub Daniel’s face in it a little. Well, that’s what he’s doing with me, staying here with Eva. If he were any kind of man, when he turned up and found out I was here, he would have turned around and gone home. Although I suppose if he were any kind of man, he wouldn’t have cheated on me in the first place.

  I have this weird reflex to try and steal him back. Not because I want him, but because I begrudge him being happy with his bit on the side. I can’t believe he was going to go through with marrying me; that’s what I can’t get my head around. I think perhaps he wanted to have his wedding cake and eat it too, and Eva was going to let him. I wonder, if I hadn’t rumbled him, how long he would’ve continued two-timing me. We’d be sitting here right now, living it up in paradise, without a care in the world. I’d be blissfully ignorant while he’d be sneaking off to call her.

  Oh, the anger is rumbling inside me, just looking for a way to come out. You know what, a massage is exactly what I need.

  ‘A showmance sounds like fun,’ I tell him.

  ‘Showmance? I like that,’ he replies. ‘Want to go for one now?’

  I hesitate.

  ‘You need to hold your head high,’ he tells me. ‘You deserve much better than him, and she’s got nothing on you.’

  ‘All right, fine, let’s go,’ I say with an awkward smile. ‘You don’t need to bombard me with flattery. I’ll go get ready.’

  ‘OK, cool,’ he replies. ‘Shall I open the curtains?’

  ‘Sure,’ I say. I’m ready to face the world now.

  Freddie opens the curtain to reveal Daniel and Eva in the pool outside. His movements catch their eye, causing them to peer inside. Freddie gives them a big smile and a wave, which Daniel ignores, but Eva reciprocates so eagerly she falls off her lilo.

  I can’t help but smile – at all of it.

  Freddie turns around and gives me a wink.

  ‘See,’ he starts. ‘This is going to drive him mad.’

  15

  Usually I’m pretty good at thinking things through. I might not be the most organised, or have the best ideas, but I do think about things and try to do my best.

  Take my wedding – well, my attempted wedding – for example. I did absolutely everything I could to make sure that the day went well. From the seating plans to the food, to the location. I thought it through.

  The same goes for my house. I could’ve insisted that the first room we decorated was my office – that’s what Daniel said we could do, when he convinced me we should put in an offer. But then, when we actually moved in and realised we had to live there, I put my office on the backburner in favour of having a decent kitchen and bathroom – because I can write on my laptop anywhere, but I can only use the bathroom as a bathroom, right?

  I feel as if these examples were decisions and plans I made with a clear head and a positive mindset. They were all for the bigger picture, to make the rest of my life better.

  Today, I don’t think I thought things through, but today I wasn’t thinking about the bigger picture.

  Blinded by a need for revenge and a desire to enjoy the finer things of the island, I decided to couple-up with Freddie. In theory, this is a win–win situation, because I get to make Daniel jealous, and enjoy a massage.

  In practice, I cannot believe how little I have thought this through. I’ve been after a massage in the hotel spa for days now, and with Freddie by my side I can actually get a couple’s massage… but therein lies the problem. Freddie is by my side, right by my side.

  All I thought about, regarding the couple’s massage, was that I could have to be in a couple to get one. What I didn’t consider was that a couple’s massage involves us both being massaged at the same time and, so that we can be massaged at the same time, we are lying side by side, absolutely starkers.

  We are lying face down on the massage tables, only small white towels covering our backsides. It was kind of awkward, when they told us to take our clothes off, because the two people who would be doing the massages gave us some privacy, but we didn’t have any privacy from each other. We spent so long trying to work out exactly how we both got naked, without exposing anything to anyone, that the massagers assumed we were already in place and walked in on us awkwardly trying to lie down, without actually getting properly naked.

  We were so awkward, in fact, that when they placed the little armrest between our tables, designed so that loved-up couples can hold hands while they have their massage, we had no choice but to do it, otherwise we would’ve looked even weirder.

  So here we are, me and Freddie, a man I met only a few days ago, in this candlelit room, with romantic music pumping into the air and the sweet smell of cocoa butter filling our nostrils, holding hands as we’re massaged.

  The massage itself feels glorious, but the awkward situation with Freddie leaves me feeling stressed. I feel sorry for the masseuse working on me, because as fast as she is massaging my stress away, my brain is creating fresh stuff.

  We have pillows positioned perfectly so that we can look into each other’s eyes. I’ve mostly been keeping mine closed, but when I open them for a second, Freddie either smiles at me or cringes playfully. I suppose this could have been much weirder, with a different stranger. Thankfully we both know exactly where we stand in this fake relationship – awkwardly close together, but completely platonically.

  Thankfully, we were told beforehand that this would be a silent massage. We were encouraged to hold one another’s hand and stare deep into each other’s eyes, but to try not to speak, instead focusing on t
he relaxing ambience and the love in the room.

  I know I’m only here with Freddie because needs must, but if things had gone to plan I would be here with Daniel and, if I’m being completely honest, I can’t imagine being here with Daniel.

  I met Daniel four years ago, at a time when I was not expecting to meet anyone. It was just before I signed my first book deal, when I was struggling to get published. After you write your first book and begin the demoralising process of trying to find an agent or a publisher or both, you realise that writing the book might have been the easy part.

  I’ve never been the type to think that everything will work out fine, just because I want it to. So I didn’t exactly send my book out into the world thinking that I’d absolutely get a book deal, but I wouldn’t have sent it if I didn’t think it was good – great, even.

  I sent it out and the waiting was agony… and then the rejection letters started coming through, and that felt much worse.

  The first thing people tell you is that J. K. Rowling received a whole bunch of rejection letters before the first Harry Potter book was published, and now she’s the first female billionaire author. I suppose, technically, that should have been comforting, but I know that for every J. K. Rowling there are a lot more authors who never make it, and I was worried about becoming one of those.

  I think I had these fantasies about giving up the job I hated to become a bestselling novelist. I know now that it doesn’t work like that, that it takes years and years of hard work and multiple books before you can do this gig comfortably.

  Little did I know, just as I decided I was about to give up, I was just days away from signing my first book deal. Before I got the good news, I decided that I needed to get another job, so I made an appointment to see a recruiter.

  With my degree in English and a few years working a social media job under my belt, I decided to try and find a copywriting gig. It might not be what I wanted to write, but it was writing that involved more than 140 characters.