by Mason, Dana
“It must have ended badly if it’s been years and you’re still this affected by it.”
I nod because there isn’t really anything I can say to that.
He stands and paces the room. Is he angry? He finally stops in front of me and squats down so that we’re eye to eye.
“Emily, were you hurt? Did someone do something to hurt you?”
I’m confused at first but after seeing the fire in his eyes, I understand. “No, not like that. Nobody has ever physically hurt me.” I see the instant relief in him, but he’s still watching me, and I feel like he’s reading me. Like I’m an open book, which I am not. I know that about myself. That’s the one thing my friends and family complain about. I don’t talk about myself… or my feelings, or anything personal at all.
Suddenly his eyes change, and I’m not sure how to describe his new expression. “Was it divorce… no.” He shakes his head, examining me like I’m a puzzle that needs to be solved.
I brush him aside and stand to get some space between us. “You know, Drew, maybe you should go.”
“What?” He’s standing now too and approaches me. “No, don’t do that, Emily.” He draws my name out in a plea, and I feel bad, but I don’t think I can do this. It’s too much, too soon.
“No, I don’t think this was a good idea. We should’ve stuck to the rule.”
He reaches out for me, but I can’t help pulling away, the emotion building in me.
“Why?” he asks, and his tone has changed. I think he’s mad now, but I’m not sure.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it, but you keep pushing.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Don’t make me go. We have three more days. If you don’t want to continue with this after we leave, at least spend the next three days with me... or let’s take it one day at a time. Okay?”
I drop my head and nod, but I know I won’t be able to go through with it if I’m constantly trying to dodge questions about Tucker. Questions that make me doubt what I’m doing. Questions that remind me of my loss. When I feel his hands touch my face, I lift my head to look at him.
His eyes don’t hold pity. They hold hope. I’m not sure that’s much better.
When he kisses me, I lift up and into his embrace. I miss being held like this. I miss the feeling of being wanted and desired. I realize I’ll never be able to repay Drew for giving me that again. But this conversation is a perfect example of why this won’t work long term. I want this. I fucking want to feel these things again but I also hate myself for it, even though I know it’s not wrong.
Moving on is hard. Fighting to keep from drowning in my guilt and emotions over the next few weeks is going to be tough. No man wants to deal with that in a new relationship. Add God knows how much distance to that relationship and you have a recipe for disaster.
No, that’s just not in the cards for me, which makes this deal we’ve made perfect. I need this… fling.
“Emily, spend the next three days with me. I promise you won’t regret it.” His golden eyes are so sincere, and looking into them, I have no doubt I’m going to have some regrets when this is over.
* * *
I’ve only known Drew a few days… well, technically four days if you count my first day here, but I feel like I’ve known him much longer. He’s so easy-going and so much fun to hang out with. I’m not sure what this trip would have been like without him.
On Thursday, we agree to spend the rest of the day on the beach after our morning helicopter tour of the island. It’s a perfect day, with the sun shining brightly and the sky is completely cloudless for the first time since I arrived. We rent a cabana and to be honest, I didn’t want to visit the beach, but once I’m settled in and enjoying the sounds of the ocean lapping the sand, I’m glad to be here.
I used to love the beach. Beach trips were a regular thing for Tucker and me. We actually met on a group surfing trip in Southern California. We had mutual friends, and after a weekend with each other and our friends in Huntington Beach, we were inseparable.
After we were married, surfing in the Pacific and rafting in the river were our favorite pastimes. We both loved the water, and even when I couldn’t find the time to go with him, Tucker would spend his free time outdoors, and usually in the water.
I should have been with him for every trip, savoring every single moment. I worked too much when I should have focused on my family, focused on him. Instead, I spent most of my time working on my career.
Since his death I’ve completely avoided the beach. This week, I would have been perfectly happy admiring the ocean from my lanai. I had a lot of reasons for not wanting to come to Hawaii for my vacation, but thanks to Drew, I’m actually enjoying myself.
I lay my head back and close my eyes. It’s really a perfect day… if only I could keep the memories away. When I hear Drew approach the cabana, I open my eyes. He has a huge grin on his face.
“What are you smiling about?”
He points to his chest. “Me? I’m smiling at my awesome luck.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My luck. You know, because I get to spend the rest of the day on the beach with the hottest babe here.”
I have to laugh at this. “It’s been ages since someone has called me a hot babe.”
“Oh, I’m sure someone has. They just didn’t do it when you could hear them.” He holds up a net bag full of some kind of equipment. “How about some snorkeling?”
The smile drops from my face. I stare at him, praying he’s joking.
“Snorkeling,” he says again, and I sense he’s hoping for a different reaction.
I shake my head. “Great. Have fun.”
“No, you’re going with me. We can do it here, that’s why I picked this beach for us.”
“Drew, I can’t snorkel. I don’t like the water.”
I swallow hard, trying to tamper down my reaction. Everything in my body is rejecting the idea of getting in that water, but I’m fighting pretty damn hard to keep from showing it.
He looks perplexed. “Seriously? You’re in Hawaii. Why did you come here if you don’t like water?”
I lift from my resting position to lean in closer. “My brother planned this trip. I told you that.”
He sits down and turns to face me. “You don’t like the water…” He shakes his head and asks, “Are you afraid? Did something happen to make you fear the water?”
Pulling my sunglasses from my face, I meet his confused eyes. I stare at him, wishing he understood without actually having to tell him. I don’t know if I can bear to form the words. I can see from his expression that he wants to understand, but he doesn’t.
“I’ll be right next to you the entire time. I’m a great swimmer… I promise you’ll be safe, Emily. I wouldn’t put you in danger.”
Yeah, Tucker was a great swimmer too. So great a swimmer he thought he could risk his life without consequences… until he lost his life.
The weight of this is heavy. Too heavy to bear right now. I drop my head and give myself a little pep talk, trying to shift this awful, all-too-familiar feeling. I can’t spend my life going through this over and over. I need to move forward, I need to move on. It’s what I want. It’s what Tucker would want… but the idea of getting in that ocean has me shaking.
I lift my eyes and look at Drew again. He’s trying so hard to understand, I can see that. He grips my jittery hands. “Emily, this should be part of moving forward for you. Even though I don’t know why, I feel like I need to push you to do this. My instinct is telling me.” He waves at the equipment. “Maybe not snorkeling, but I feel like you need to get in that water. You need to beat whatever this is.”
I know he’s right. I don’t get how he knew or what outside force is at work, but he’s absolutely right. I blink away the emotions that are fighting to show and mumble, “You’re right. I do need to do this and… purge this”—I motion outward with my hands—“Purge this awful shit from my system… or at least I nee
d to try.”
He takes my elbow and pulls me from the lounger.
“Come on.”
When we reach the edge of the water, I stop. My entire body is vibrating from the stress and my heart is heavy. I feel the weight of what I’ve been through for the last four years. Every second of every minute of every day I’ve spent without Tucker in my life. There must be some sort of a spiritual exercise involving the ocean and grief that applies to moments like these, but I’ll be damned if I can think of one.
I glance up at Drew, and he’s patiently waiting for me. I must look like a serious idiot. I turn to look around, but he’s the only person watching me. I meet his eyes and say, “I’m sorry for being so ridiculous.”
“Stop it. You don’t need to be sorry about anything. You be whatever you need to be, and if that’s ridiculous, so be it.”
This makes me laugh. I love how he didn’t deny my ridiculousness but embraced it instead. “You’re incredible. Do you know that?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’m just trying to be here for you.”
“Thank you.”
He reaches over and takes my hand.
“Ready?”
I chuckle, and it sounds funny because I’m feeling emotional again. We step into the ocean together, my heart thumping, and I breathe in, then out.
The farther into the water I go, the lighter I feel, as if I’m shedding something. I go as far as waist-deep, and as the waves roll over and past me, I feel better. I keep going, and I can feel Drew’s presence next to me the entire time. He still has my hand gripped in his and I turn toward him.
“It feels good,” I say, and I feel a sense of relief flow through me. I never thought this could be possible.
His smile is full of pride and again, I’m reminded of just how wonderful he is. The poor man has no idea why this is hard for me, but here he is, right next to me, my rock nonetheless. I reach out for him and pull him against me.
“I’m so lucky.”
“Why are you lucky?”
“Because I’m with the hottest babe on the beach.”
Drew drags his lips to mine in a deep, slow kiss, and as I sink into him, I wish so much that I could keep him.
Twelve
Drew
I’m not sure what wakes me. Maybe it’s the loss of Emily’s heat next to me or the sound of crashing waves streaming in from the open windows but I’m surprised to find myself alone in her rumpled bed and still naked from making love with her.
I lift my head and glance around. That’s when I see her, sitting alone outside in the dark, wrapped in a robe with her chin resting on her knees as she stares out at the dark sea.
I slowly creep out of bed and dress in the matching robe. When I peek my head out, she turns to look at me. It’s dark, but I can still see her sad expression. She quickly wipes the tears from her face.
“Everything okay?”
She nods but doesn’t speak.
“May I join you?”
She nods again, but then says, “Of course.”
I sit in the chair next to hers and stare out. There’s not much to see, except the lighted beach path several floors below and a hint of the surf hitting the sand. It’s barely illuminated from the path lights, but just enough to highlight the whitecaps.
I lift my face to the breeze and inhale the sea air. It’s an odd mix of salt water and the natural flora of Maui… and even the distinct scent of Emily lingering on my skin from earlier. After giving her a few minutes, I tilt my head over and say, “Are you upset about today at the beach?”
She takes a deep, steadying breath then blows it out slowly. “Yeah, but probably not for the reason you think.”
“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
She reaches over and links her fingers with mine. “I believe that about you.”
I lift our joined hands up and kiss the backs of hers. “I’m here and you can say anything to me.”
She blows a strand of hair off her face and looks back out to the ocean. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Well, the beginning is usually a great place. But I can take a guess if you want.” I have a feeling I understand more than she could possibly imagine––I know because I’ve been where she is.
She glances over and lifts a doubtful eyebrow so I accept the challenge.
“Did you lose someone, Emily… are you a widow?”
Her eyes widen in surprise and she shifts slightly in her chair. “How could you possibly have guessed that?” Her voice is heavy, but I think she’s too surprised to care about hiding her emotions.
I shrug, not really surprised my guess was spot on. “The bellman called you Mrs. Thomas, you didn’t correct him.” When she gives me an incredulous look, I say, “That and you’re out here, alone and crying, after a couple of rounds of really great sex. I certainly don’t want to believe you’re crying because you didn’t enjoy it, so I can only assume it’s guilt.”
She drops her chin, letting her gaze fall to the sea once more. “Well, you’re right.” She’s quiet now so I give her time to get her bearings. “He drowned almost four years ago.”
Hearing this feels like a punch to the gut––I wasn’t expecting it. Now the entire day comes into focus and I get it. Jesus Christ. I shift in my seat so that I’m facing her.
“I’m so sorry, honey. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have pushed you at the beach today.”
“No, you were right, I needed to get in the water. I used to love the beach. Still do, but I’ve stayed away since losing him.”
“So, you really were crying the other night when I picked you up for dinner.”
“Yeah, and you’re ever so perceptive.”
“Is he the reason you’re sticking hard and fast to this rule of not sharing personal information?”
She nods and I see another tear slip down her face. “I have many, many reasons. I could sit here and list a dozen reasons why this is a bad idea.” She looks pointedly at me. “I realize four years is a long time to still feel like this; the stuff I’m dealing with didn’t die when he died. For one, this entire vacation is hard for me. I was so wrapped up in my career, I never took the time to travel with him. And now I’m doing it alone. I took him for granted while he was here and now he’s gone and it’s too late. That’s something I have to live with every day.”
“It’s not too late for you to have a life.”
“I know that. My head knows that, but my heart is still trying to cope. My real point here, Drew, is that I don’t think the next few weeks are going to be easy for me and I’m not willing to put you through my mood swings or force you to put up with my emotional baggage.”
“What if I told you I don’t mind?”
“I’m sorry, but it just won’t work, Drew. I like you, I’m loving the time we’re spending together. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it was to swim in the ocean today, and you gave me that. I’ve had fun and I’ve really tried to come out of my shell of grief. But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’m ready for something more permanent. I don’t want to ruin this. I want to go home with my good memories of you, and of this trip, intact.”
“Or, just maybe, I’m exactly what you need when you get home?” I squeeze her hand and say, “How do you know if we don’t try?”
“And what if we live on opposite sides of the country? How is that going to help me?”
“What if we don’t?”
“What if we do?” Her voice raises and her tone is heavy again. “I can’t take on a long-distance relationship. It would be like going in reverse when I’m trying so hard to move forward.”
I can’t argue with that. I understand too well what it’s like to lose someone. I think of Kayla and I want to tell Emily about her, but I can’t, not here and not now. I wouldn’t dare try to throw my grief in her face when she’s clearly trying so hard to cope with hers. I also can’t argue with her reasoning. She’s right about a long-distance relationsh
ip, that would be incredibly hard for me too, but at least I’m willing to try.
I blow out a breath, knowing exactly what that means: I get to be her vacation fling. The one who helps her move on from her marriage and her grief. I did the same thing two years after losing my wife. I came to Maui and screwed everything and anything in a skirt. Several nameless women who were all interested in having a good time and nothing else.
It helped… for a while. Months after returning home, I realized I needed something more steady, but if it hadn’t have been for those weeks of sowing my oats, I don’t know if I could have had a real relationship. Of course, none of those real relationships have worked out. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I thought I’d eventually find someone who was interested in having a relationship with my kids as well. Apparently, Emily isn’t that person either.
Emily pulls our entwined hands to her lap. “Are you terribly disappointed?”
I try not to frown when I say, “I am disappointed, but I can’t pretend I don’t understand. I just want to make sure you understand that I’m not looking to escape the difficult time you’re having. I’m willing to put in the time and help you work through it. I’m not afraid of that. So, don’t pretend you’re doing this for my benefit.”
“I appreciate that, more than you know, and I recognize that this is something I’ve decided. I own that decision. I promise I won’t blame you later if I have any regrets.”
If.
I guess I’d better step up my game to ensure she has some regrets about losing me. I refuse to go down without a fight. I don’t want to be some fleeting memory of a past vacation. I want to be someone she can’t live without.
With my eyes locked on hers, I lower myself to the ground in front of her and pull her feet off the chair, then I push open the robe and spread her knees. I move in between her legs and grip her hips, pulling her rear closer to the edge of the chair. Then I drape her legs over my shoulders and lean forward, licking inside her. I feel the tension ease and her body relax in the chair. A moan escapes and I devour her, using my tongue and grazing my teeth gently over her clit.
