How to Honeymoon Alone

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Aren’t all writers?” she asks, and the line goes dead. I’m still smiling when I trudge up the white sand to the pool area. Our fishing guide digs out a frayed towel. The fabric is rough but dry, and I wrap it around myself. I’ll set you free in this hedge here…” The words are barely audible, speaking to himself as he is, but I catch them all the same.

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He’s quiet for another long beat, and judging by the faint surprise on his face, I’ve caught him off guard. I put an arm on the railing. The ocean is shrouded in darkness, and I can just barely make out the softly lapping waves. He puts the menu down, and it looks like it pains him. “I’m sorry about crashing your evening. Is it okay with you? Say no and I’ll leave, no questions asked.” I dig my toes deeper into the sand and catch sight of two women standing by the shoreline. They look like they’re arguing. One woman’s hands move in a swan dance as she makes her point, while her companion’s expression is set in hard lines.I was playing along,” Phillip says. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten your seven years of karate. Or your can of pepper spray. How did you get that through customs?” I grin. “Noted. Well, I hope you have a good holiday, then. Don’t forget to schedule some non-work, too. It’s a beautiful island, you know.” I grab a table by the boardwalk and spend my morning doing exactly four things: eating, watching the turquoise waves, reading my book, and keeping an eye out for Phillip Meyer. The bungalow labeled The Hawksbill catches my attention. That’s the name of one of the turtle species mentioned when I booked my snorkeling tour set for later this afternoon. This bungalow looks no different from any of the others. Dark wood stairs up to a large door and the perfectly landscaped plants in pots on either side.

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Maybe two of these people are having an affair. Maybe that’s the case with the people next to me. I glance at them from the corner of my eye. She’s married, and she’s here with her lover, the dyed-haired man. Maybe she bumps into someone she knows at the resort… someone who discovers her secret.My mind conjures up an immediate image of high-rises and conference tables, and endless nights in front of the lit-up computer screen. “Wow,” I say, drawing out the vowel. The rest of my life, essentially, or at the very least the upcoming two decades. Caleb and I were saving for a bigger house together. In two or three years we’d start trying for a baby. House, kids, jobs, two cars, and maybe a dog. Predictable, stable, and safe. The heroine has almost no personality (besides researching her vacation thoroughly) and the hero is a human cardboard cutout. No personality. No quirks. No nothing.