Spring Fling

by Claudia Burgoa

  He steps away, returning to the coffee maker. “Want some?” he offers, holding up a white mug.

  I shake my head, slipping back into my clothes from the night before. “I’m good. I figured we could find a cute little cafe for breakfast.”

  He smiles, and it’s the type that makes me want to do very bad things with him. “Sounds good.” He pours his coffee and takes a sip.

  “Meet you downstairs in an hour?”

  “Perfect,” he answers.

  After a lingering kiss goodbye, I leave him and rush to my room to get showered and dressed.

  An hour later, we exit the hotel and grab croissant sandwiches at a quaint bistro already filled with spring breakers near the beach. We finally find a quiet spot to eat, and people watch, before setting off hand-in-hand down the coast.

  “I love walking,” I say to him, enjoying the feel of my feet sinking into the warm sand as the breeze sweeps across us. “I notice all kinds of things I’d miss if I were driving.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Me too. It clears your mind.”

  “Yeah. I need a lot of that.” I let out a small laugh, but there’s nothing funny about it. I do need to clear my head, a lot.

  “Maybe I can help?”

  I smile up at him, trying to lighten the moment. “Oh, you did last night.”

  It doesn’t work. “Talk to me,” he urges.

  I sigh, wondering if I should give him a chance to hear the calamity in my head. “My life is a mess,” I state.

  “I’m sure most people’s are. They just hide it better.”

  “I can’t do this.” Talking to anyone is hard to do, but him, I can’t seem to find the words to dish out my inner most thoughts.

  “Yes, you can.”

  He’s a stranger, I tell myself, and then continue, “My husband and I lost ourselves somewhere along the way.”

  “How so?”

  “Are you really interested in this?” I stop and pick up a seashell, abandoned by its owner, to inspect.

  “Of course, I am.”

  I toss the shell into the ocean. “I was really happy when I first got married. Not like a few of my friends who only married because they wanted to settle. I was really happy. I loved Colin.”

  “Loved?” He tilts his head. “As in past tense?”

  I gaze into his sea-blue eyes and don’t answer.

  He stops, sitting down on the beach, and I follow suit and watch the waves crash.

  “See this sand?” I grab a fistful. “This is what it feels like,” I tell him, releasing it and watching it slip through my fingers. “I feel so alone.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Avoiding his eyes, I trace designs into the sand. A heart. A circle. Another heart.

  “It’s fine,” I give my go-to answer whenever anyone asks me about anything too personal.

  “Have you tried talking to him?”

  I stop tracing. “Not lately.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  I laugh a quiet little laugh. “Maybe. What about you? Are you happy with your life?”

  He leans back, placing his hands in the sand to prop himself up and says with conviction, “I am.”

  “I want to be happy,” I whisper.

  “Do you think getting a divorce will make you happy?”

  I want this inquisition to end already. He’s supposed to be a stranger I have wild sex with, not this man who digs and digs, peeling back every layer of my psyche, and understanding me on a whole other level. My face heats. I narrow my eyes and stand in a rush, my temper on full alert. If I could breathe fire, I would. “What happened to this being a fling? You’re not supposed to be asking me anything personal.”

  He stands, wiping the sand from his hands onto his khaki shorts. “I’m sorry. Let’s start over. We can go shopping?”

  I cross my arms, no longer wanting to be pretend. “No, I’m just going to head back to the room.”

  “Don’t be that way. Come on.”

  “This was a mistake,” I say to him, wanting more than anything to just be alone. Ha. The irony. The lonely girl wants to be alone. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Before he can object, I’m already walking away.

  I came here to clear my head. To be in a calm climate to weather my own storm that’s brewing back home.

  I wanted an escape. I wanted to be another person. Someone without any worries or cares in the world. But, I guess no one is carefree.

  No one can breeze through life not making a single ripple. Everyone leaves their mark. Whether they want to or not.

  * * *

  Mason

  * * *

  Well, fuck. I blew that. When I return to the hotel, after clearing my head from our fight, Kyla is gone. Checked out. Gone.

  Once it’s certain she isn’t coming back, the emptiness that consumes me is powerful. Like a silence that deafens you to the point of insanity.

  But…

  I know where she lives.

  I know where she sleeps.

  And I’m not letting her go.

  I come from a long line of deserters. My father left my mother, my grandfather left my grandmother, so it’s in my DNA. I was destined to be a deserter. But I’m not. I won’t ever be.

  I decide it’s time to head home and pack my things. I’ll be back in Miami in less than two hours.

  Back to my own reality.

  I board the plane like a zombie, taking my seat in first class, not noticing my surroundings, just going with the flow.

  The plane takes off, and the engines roar, but I no longer hear them, trapped in my own little world. Once we’ve leveled off, I hook up my micro printer to my laptop and print out the pictures from the ruins.

  Kyla was so full of life. Full of this unforeseen energy I couldn’t escape from. It mesmerized me. And I. Can’t. Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

  The feel of my fingers wrapped around her fragile neck. The feel of her pussy coating my tongue with her essence. The feel of my cock deep inside her.

  I just can’t get her out of my head.

  And I don’t want to.

  When the plane lands, I walk to my BMW in the long-term parking and throw my bag in the back. This feels like it’s been the longest trip of my life, and it’s only been about twenty-four hours.

  I hop on I-95, merging with the traffic, and head home to my place in Miramar. No one’s here when I pull into the driveway. But, of course I wasn’t expecting her to be here.

  When I step inside, the low hum of the air conditioning, cools my heated body.

  Everything is the exact same as when I left, except, the note on the fridge. I cross the kitchen tile.

  ‘It didn’t work, Colin. I’ll be staying with my sister until after the divorce. -Ava,’ the note reads.

  I close my eyes, letting the stillness of the house calm me. Letting the fact she’s really gone consume me. I know I can’t fix things in her head for her. God, do I want to. It eats me up inside the way she’s closed herself off. That she feels she’s failed me. Never.

  I thought I could give her space, let her work it out, but I know she still loves me. In Cozumel, the therapist said to forget everything, and I did.

  Well, fuck it. I’ll fight the biggest battle of my life for her. I’ll wage war, and storm the trenches if it means keeping her in my life. I’ll slay every dragon to keep her as my wife. Because I can’t lose her.

  * * *

  Ava

  * * *

  “How was Cozumel, Ava?” my sister, Tina, asks as I step onto her front porch.

  I shake my head. “Amazing and horrible all at the same time,” I tell her as the tears start streaming down my face.

  “Oh, no, don’t cry.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder, ushering me into her house. “Come inside and have some tea.”

  “Thanks.”

  I’ve been crying since I left ‘Mason’ standing on the beach in Cozumel. I had to get away from him. I had to breathe.

  I love him
too much to pretend any longer.

  When our therapist suggested the idea Colin and I have a fling, we couldn’t believe our ears. Cheat? Um, no way.

  I’ve never been with any other man but my husband. And I wanted to fix our marriage not add more problems to it. But, then Noel explained her idea: Colin and I were to pretend we didn’t know each other and have a fling—with each other.

  ‘Go to a resort, meet, and have a torrid affair,’ she said.

  Make up fake names, we were instructed, and don’t tell each other what name we chose until we introduced ourselves to one another. He picked Mason, and I picked Kyla on a whim. And then we were supposed to only call each other by the names we gave.

  Pretend to be someone new. Remember what it felt like to be with each other before this burden started weighing us down.

  I thought the idea was crazy, but I was desperate to save what we once had. I was willing to try anything.

  Colin was all in. “‘What could it hurt?’ he had said.

  So, I went with it. I trusted my husband.

  When he sat down with me at the bar, I almost couldn’t do it, but it felt right. Being there with him felt different. Like him and I were two different people. It was exciting.

  And I almost started to believe it. I think at one point in the night I did believe it.

  “We’ll get you unpacked after the tea,” my sister says to me, pouring me a mug and adding a cube of sugar.

  “How do you make your marriage work?” I ask her, sitting on a stool at her kitchen island and blowing onto the liquid in my cup.

  She smiles, stirring her spoon into her own mug of tea. “It isn’t easy. But, when you love each other I think you can work through anything.”

  I wonder if that’s true. Because I do love Colin. Toddler toys scattered about her living room and backpacks discarded in a rush, remind me that one day he might want this life.

  “I just need some time,” I tell her.

  “Take all the time you want, but you can’t escape from it. You will have to face him.”

  I hug my sister. “You’re right.” The thought depresses me, but she is one hundred percent correct— I do need to face him again.

  Our trip was amazing.

  The way he listened. The way he cared. He really does love me. And he deserves the same effort from me.

  “No other man would have probably went along with the crazy idea, huh?” I ask my sister.

  She laughs. “I know Finn definitely wouldn’t.” Then my sister stares me directly in the eyes. “Colin loves you.”

  I know what she’s saying is true. “I love him too.”

  “Then what are you still doing here? Do you know how hard it is to find someone? And you’ve found your one. Like that’s a miracle.”

  I need to see him. This overwhelming pain erupts all over, making the mere thought of losing Colin forever frightening. I have to see him.

  I grab my cell, putting a call in to his. No answer.

  “He’s probably in the air,” Tina says.

  “You’re right. If I leave now, I can make it home before he gets there.”

  “Hurry.”

  I all but peel out of her driveway, trying my best to get to I-95 before rush hour. I need to see Colin.

  Tears flood my eyes as I race home. Home. What was I thinking leaving there? I have a man who loves me, and I’ve been pushing him away.

  I turn into the neighborhood, and drive toward my house. His car isn’t in the driveway when I park, but he should be here soon, so I hustle inside.

  The house is still and quiet when I step into the entryway. And that’s when I see his discarded luggage by the front door.

  “Colin?” I call out.

  No answer. I cross the hardwoods into the kitchen, and see pictures scattered on the island. I walk closer to inspect. Different shots of me at the Mayan ruins stare back at me. Pictures Colin took of me there. Always a photographer.

  I run my fingers over each one. It was tempting to throw myself on that shrine and beg Ixchel to grant me what I’ve always wanted. But, I’m not that naive. I’ve always loved his pictures, the way he can capture each emotion. As much as I tried to hide it, he was able to capture how lost I truly was.

  But not anymore. Where is he?

  He was here and now he left.

  My heart plummets.

  My high crashes.

  One after another, tears fall as I move into the living room and plop down on the leather sofa.

  A car door slams, and I stand, moving to the window to peek through the blinds. Colin.

  “Ava,” he says, entering the house. Two seconds later he’s in the room with me.

  “Where did you go?” I ask.

  “I went to Tina’s to find you.” He flips the light switch on. “What are you doing in the dark?” He folds his arms, leaning against the arched entry to our living room.

  No more hiding in the dark. “I want to talk.”

  “I’m listening.” He doesn’t move, his ocean-colored eyes spearing me.

  I take a deep breath, letting it out ever so slowly before beginning, “I’ve been pushing you away for so long, hoping more than anything it would help with the pain I’ve been feeling.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I felt like a failure with you. That there was something wrong with me. And how could you possibly love a woman who couldn’t give you what you want?” The tears start falling.

  He pushes off the wall and stalks over to me. “You’re all I want, Ava. I’m happy with the life we have.”

  “I want a baby. And the past few years have been a nightmare for us.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “I’m so sorry. You’re not a failure, though.”

  Tears fall down my face. “I just have this vision of us. Of how our life should be…”

  He cuts in, “You need to let go of how you think it’s supposed to be. We need to make our own future.”

  I step back. “Am I even enough for you? Is this…” I hold out my hands, glancing around at our home. “...enough?”

  “Yes,” he says, firmly. “Ava, you’ve always been enough for me. There’s always other ways to have a family. And if we can’t…”

  I gaze up into his eyes. “If we can’t?”

  He shakes his head, pulling me into him. “Doesn’t matter. I’m with you and I’ll be happy with you for the rest of my life. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I wrap my arms around him. “I just wanted a baby so badly that I pushed you away.”

  “You didn’t have to push very hard. I threw myself into work because I was grieving too,” he says. “But, we have to talk to each other. We have to work on it, together.”

  Another tear trickles down my cheek, and then another. “I can do that.”

  He squeezes my arms gently, staring directly into my eyes. “I missed you so damn much.”

  “I miss you too.”

  And then he kisses me, unlike anything else in this world. Like he’s the sun and I’m the moon, perfect counterparts. And nothing will ever come between us.

  I kiss him back, letting him know I’m not going anywhere. That I’ll never leave him. We may have lost our way for a while there, but we found each other in Cozumel.

  * * *

  Ava

  * * *

  “So, how was your trip?” Noel, Dr. Childs, asks us in her office at our first appointment since we’ve returned. “I honestly didn’t know if I would see the two of you back here ever again.”

  I smile, holding onto Colin’s hand. “We had a great time.” I blush a little, thinking about the things Mason did to me in that dark hallway in Mexico.

  “You were able to pretend you didn’t know each other?”

  “Yes,” Colin says, his eyes turning to me as he says the next part, “some of us a little more than others.”

  I blush harder. “I found my husband there.”

  He kisses me.

  I focus my attention on N
oel. “I know we still have a lot to work through, but we’re finally for the first time in a long time on the right path to getting back to the way we once were.”

  “That’s the beauty of growing up. You never get back, you simply adjust to the way you are now. Don’t chase the past, instead, plan for your future. Love the person you’re becoming. And love the person your partner is becoming as well,” she says.

  Colin places his hand over my knee. “I like that. I guess it’s the beauty of growing old with one another.”

  A tear escapes my eyes. “I’m ready.” And I kiss my husband.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you so much for reading this short story Flingology. I hope you enjoyed it. As always thank you to my editor, assistant, and best friend, Paula for helping make my vision of this story come to life. When I came to her with this idea, she was so excited and said I had to tell this story. Thank you for encouraging me to do so.

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  Thank you to the readers and bloggers for sharing my work with others. I truly appreciate all the love and support.

  Thank you to the other authors in this anthology for allowing me to include my story with theirs. Thank you.

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  For other insights into my writing, join my mailing list, and learn all about Logan Chance. Get a free sexy romantic comedy just for signing up: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/8kgpghupve

  About the Author

  Logan Chance is a Best Selling and Goodreads Choice Award nominated author with a quick wit and penchant for the simple things in life: Star Wars, music, and smart girls who love to read. His works can be classified as Dramedies (Drama+Comedies), featuring a ton of laughs and many swoonworthy, heartfelt moments.

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