by Nia Arthurs
“It’s a resort in the Belizean peninsula. Shirts aren’t required.”
“If you say so.” Breana walked ahead, fiddling with her purse. He followed after her, perfectly content with his naked torso and completely oblivious to the stares. As was usual when he stood beside his wife, she was all he could see. The rest faded into the background.
“What should we watch?” she asked as they walked through the foyer.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. Do you think their Wi-Fi will be fast enough to stream an entire movie? I have one I’ve been wanting to see. It’s called Taming Mr. Jerkface. I heard it’s really cute and romantic.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t put on that one.”
“Why not?”
He came behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, delighting in the tiny breath that escaped her lips as he pressed himself against her.
“I think you’ll be… distracted.”
He gripped her wrist and felt her pulse fluttering against his fingertips. Breana’s heart was pounding like a jackhammer and pride snaked through his body at the thought that he was the one putting her in such a state.
It had been five long months. He’d been a good boy, and had waited on his wife to feel comfortable with him. He’d lost her trust and then earned it back. They’d been through more than their fair share of trials in the first few months, than most newlyweds did in the first few years.
It was time to throw themselves a feast, and Trenton wanted only one thing on the menu.
Breana blinked up at him and with an innocent expression asked. “Why will I be distracted?”
He looked at her, unable to decide if she was intentionally being obtuse or if he really hadn’t been clear. Bending down to answer, he kissed her neck and nuzzled his nose against her ear, whispering a thought he’d been secretly nursing since their wedding night.
Breana stiffened and for a moment, he wondered if he’d been a little too aggressive. To his surprise—and amusement—she looked up at him with a telling smirk.
“Sounds fun.”
The elevators opened at that moment, spitting out a crowd of tourists heading out to the clubs that populated the waterfront. Trenton had little interest in going anywhere this evening and quickly ushered his wife onto the lift.
The doors began to close on the two of them. Instead of wasting the grand opportunity, he took advantage of their temporary privacy and turned Breana around to plant another kiss on her.
Just before the elevator doors closed, he heard a voice call for it to stop. Trenton glanced up just as a pale hand slid between the sliver of space. The elevator doors burst open and he looked up in horror.
Breana pulled away from him and adjusted her hair. “Mr. Lorde!” she cried, bashfully pulling at the hem of his T-shirt that just reached her thighs. Bending down to retrieve her sarong from the floor, Breana bundled it together and held it in front of her waist.
“It is you!” Edward Lorde said as the elevators closed, encapsulating them for the next few moments. “I wondered.”
“What are you doing here, Dad?” Trenton groaned. Could his father have busted in at a more horrible time?
“Don’t look at me like that, boy. If you would answer my calls then I wouldn’t need to run after you in the hallways like the leading lady in a third rate romance movie.”
“We didn’t see you,” Breana said, sounding far more composed than he felt. “I would have greeted you if I did.”
“Yes, well, the way you two were necking, I didn’t expect you to notice me.”
“Wow! It was great meeting with you, Dad,” Trenton said when the elevator landed on the correct floor. “Enjoy the rest of your stay. Bree, let’s go. Walk fast,” he mumbled.
“Wait!” Edward stalked off the lift and followed them. Finally managing to catch up, he jumped ahead of the couple and held out his arm. “Look, I know you’re upset about the divorce, but you haven’t told your mother that you know, right? She’s coming down soon and I want her to get settled in before we have to deal with this mess.”
Breana glanced between him and his dad. “What do you mean divorced? Who’s getting a divorce?”
“Dad…” Trenton groaned.
“Didn’t Trenton tell you?” Edward said, slightly stunned. “Lorraine and I are finally splitting up.”
“What?” Breana’s jaw dropped and she swung to glare at him. “How long have you known this?”
“For a few weeks,” Edward supplied.
“You’re not helping, Dad.”
“Trenton,” Breana folded her arms across her chest, “when exactly were you planning to tell me about your parents getting a divorce?”
Trenton held his head in his hands, his gaze swinging from his very irate wife to his sheepishly grinning father. Looked like all the beautiful plans he’d had for the night would be lost in the Caribbean Sea.
Thanks, Dad. Thanks for nothing.
Chapter 19
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Breana sat across from Edward Lorde in the hotel’s restaurant and watched as he threw back a long swig of wine. His eyes glittered as he stared at her across the rim of the glass, and he seemed far more upbeat about the impending split than she was comfortable with.
“But… you’ve been together for almost thirty years! Why give up now?”
“Sometimes,” Edward placed his hand in the air and pinched his fingers together, “sometimes, you realize that you don’t have a reason to be together anymore.”
Breana’s mind couldn’t wrap around such a motive. Even if they hadn’t loved each other, shouldn’t loyalty and duty have been enough to keep them afloat? Heck! Edward had been there for Lorraine when she was battling cancer! Why give up on all that now?
“I just don’t understand,” she said.
“That’s the thing with you young folks,” Edward slurred, pointing a finger at Breana. “You think the sky is full of rainbows and unicorns. Marriage is hard. Making a marriage work is hard. Do you know how many people don’t work out? I cheated. Everybody does it.”
Trenton shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, that’s enough now.”
Edward pushed his son’s hand away. “It’s not like we set out to cheat. It just… it happens. And then we realize that we’ve been trying to make blood out of stone, trying to squeeze love out of loyalty, and it doesn’t work.”
“It can work,” Breana said. “It can.”
“Not all the time. Look at you two.” Edward peered at them through one eye. “At least you got the chance to marry for love. Looking at each other like you’re the most attractive people in the world. Wanting to hold hands, hug, kiss, and sleep together with every breath you take—” Edward chortled. “I want that. Even if it’s late.”
“It hasn’t always been easy for us,” Breana said. “You know that well.”
“Yes, I was there to see my son’s battle with a broken heart.”
“It wasn’t as bad as that,” Trenton said.
“You were on the cusps of death and you know it, son. I’m glad that Lorraine is getting better. She’s a strong woman, and I had a good feeling that she would beat her cancer, but we’re not getting any younger. I realize that I only have a bit of time left, and I don’t want to live my life this way.”
“But your loyalty—” Breana muttered.
“It changed.”
“It can’t.”
“But it did.”
“Breana,” Trenton put his hand on her arm, “it’s their decision.”
She snatched her hand away. “Why aren’t you more upset about this?”
“Because I lived with them,” Trenton said, his eyes darkening and his lips forming a grim line. “Divorce sucks and watching my parents break their marriage is going to kill me, but there’s nothing I can do to change their minds.”
“I can’t accept this.”
Edward laughed uproariously. “You sound like a broken record! Look, Trenton! She ke
eps saying the same thing over and over.”
Trenton groaned. “He’s a terrible drunk.”
“I can see that.”
“Dad?” Trenton bent over and lightly tapped his father’s cheek. “Dad, can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk.” Edward stomped to his feet and took a shaky step forward. His next try had him bumping into a chair. “Oh! Didn’t see that!”
“Trenton, he can’t make it to his hotel room alone.”
Trenton nodded and swung his father’s hand over his shoulder. Breana shuffled along behind them, reaching out to help Edward keep his balance when he stumbled. The drunken man reminded her of her mother and Breana found herself thinking that he didn’t look ‘free’ or ‘happy’ in the slightest.
“Dad, where’s your room?”
“I don’t have one.”
“What do you mean you don’t have one?”
“I was supposed to go back to the city today,” Edward sang. “I was going over the rainbow and down the spout.”
Breana sighed. “Let’s take him to our room for now.”
“What?” Trenton’s head whipped around so that his brown hair snapped straight up. “We’re not doing that.”
“What do you want us to do then? Leave him on the streets?”
“Yeah!”
“Trenton!”
“I can sleep on the ground,” Edward said, chewing up his words.
Trenton stood in the middle of the hotel’s foyer with a thunderous expression. She knew that he was disappointed, but it couldn’t be helped. Family came first. Always. Even when it was a little uncomfortable to accommodate them.
“Fine,” Trenton said, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll get another room for him.”
“Why spend that much money on another room? Besides, we can’t just leave him in a random hotel room while he’s drunk. He could choke on his own vomit and die.”
“Alright. Alright. We’ll take him up to our room.” Trenton sighed as if she’d asked him to gather every drop of water in the Caribbean Sea with a plastic spoon. Turning back to her, he whined. “But do we have to?”
“I’ll hold the elevator,” Breana replied.
Trenton grudgingly followed her, dragging his father behind him. Edward Lorde took a nap during their ride to the right floor and fought when it was time to walk into the room.
“You’ll have to carry him,” Breana said, smiling apologetically at the couple waiting to board the elevator.
Trenton bent his knees and hauled his father onto his back. Edward was, by no means, a small man and she saw her husband breaking a sweat by the time they’d gotten to their door.
When Breana applied the keycard and opened up, Edward flew into the room as if he owned it and jumped on the bed.
“Oh no,” Trenton said, his words firm and his face red. “You’re not sleeping up there.”
“Look at him though,” Breana cooed, her heart melting. When Edward Lorde’s mouth was closed and he wasn’t talking about how ‘everybody cheated’, he seemed like a harmless old man.
“Nope!” Trenton picked up the phone and dialed the concierge desk. “Yes, good night. Could I please have an extra cot in my room? Yes, I’ll pay any additional charge. Thank you.”
Breana hid her smile behind her hand. She’d been looking forward to their alone time as well, but Trenton reminded her of a kid whose candy had been taken just before he unwrapped it.
He sank to the bed and lay flat on his back. In his sleep, Edward reached out and cupped his son’s head. Trenton flailed and threw the arm off only to turn around and glare as his father settled into the bed with a hearty snore.
“Come here,” Breana said, beckoning him with her hand. He drew near to her and put his arm around her waist.
Resting his chin on the top of her head, he murmured. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t. I just thought… I’ve always been honest with you when it comes to my mom and all the messed up parts of my past.”
“You didn’t tell me about Denzel.”
“Don’t be petty.”
Trenton chuckled and the rumble of his chest against her fingertips was warm. She tightened her arm around him. “You don’t have to be brave in front of me. If you’re upset about your parents, if you just want to talk, I’m here for you. This isn’t a one-way street.”
“I appreciate that.”
Their quiet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“That must be the cot,” Trenton said.
They separated so that he could accept the tiny bed and place it in the corner of the room. He tipped the worker and returned to his father. The strain of Edward’s weight appeared in the veins that popped out along his forehead, but Trenton powered through it and transferred his father to the cot.
Breana bent down and sniffed the bed. She straightened with an expression of disgust. “It smells like beer.”
“I’m really sorry about my dad,” Trenton said. “Do you want me to ring housekeeping and let them change the sheets?”
“No,” she said, stripping the bed down to the sheet covering the mattress. “You know, I find it kind of funny how much we have in common.”
“What do you mean?” Trenton asked, sitting beside her.
“Nothing,” she said. “Should we get ready for bed?” Without waiting for a response, Breana led the way to the bathroom and took out her toothbrush.
Trenton followed her lead, but looked curiously at her. “Go ahead and finish what you were saying.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Breana.”
“Fine.” She spit out a wad of foam. “Even though your family has money and mine doesn’t, both our parents have messy relationships and bad habits.” She pointed to the main room. “I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve had to pick my mom out of some weed house and take her home.”
“That’s horrible. This is the first time Dad’s done something so embarrassing in public.”
“Okay.” Breana sighed, a bit of her point deflated by that statement. “I guess the severity of the scenarios aren’t the same…”
Trenton looked at her and pulled her close. “I don’t think it matters what our parents did or didn’t do. Their messy relationship doesn’t have to be our own. We can break that tradition and start a new one.”
“A new tradition?” She tasted the word on her tongue.
“Yes, one where there are no secrets, and we love each other and stay loyal to each other until death.”
“Sounds nice.”
He squeezed her near. “I think so too.”
Chapter 20
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As much as Trenton enjoyed cuddling with his wife, he was disappointed that his father had crashed their night. Again. Trenton had tolerated the infringement on his wedding day because… well, because Breana had locked her door and there was nothing he could do about it.
But today, today he was on a beautiful island, surrounded by cerulean blue waters and white sand (the most romantic setting he could think of) and Breana was sleeping soundly in his arms. Her hair tickling his nose. Her hand resting on his arm. Her body warm and soft.
She was right there. Not hiding behind a locked door. Not trying to shield her heart within a ten-foot wall. Not offering the crumbs of her trust with talks of loyalty instead of love.
Things would be perfect…
Trenton heard a deep snore and looked past the end of his bed to the man who scratched his stomach and turned on his side in the cot. Annoyed, he rolled out of bed and checked the time.
It was four in the morning. He groaned and looked at his pillow. Sleep was running away from him, and he had no desire to chase it.
Pulling out his phone, Trenton started to skim through his emails when he saw a prompt informing him that the sun would rise in an hour. An idea popped into his head and he moved on it immediately.
Trenton ran his errands quietly so he
didn’t disturb Breana, but half-an-hour later, he shook her shoulder.
“Babe.”
“Mm,” Breana moaned. She hated waking up early on the weekends, but he was too excited to worry about her sleeping habits.
“Bree.”
“What?” she said, her voice husky.
“Wake up.”
“No.”
The back and forth continued until Trenton finally got his way. Breana shot out of bed, her curly hair a disheveled mop that fell into her face and her eyes, only tiny slits, glaring into his.
“What? What do you want?”
His excitement untouched by her annoyance, Trenton tilted his head toward the bathroom. “Get dressed.”
“No.”
She leaned back as if to return to bed. Unable to deal with another argument and having no time to exchange another verbal spar with his half-awake wife, he pulled her up by her hands until she sat straight up.
“Sweetie, you’re going to love it. I promise. Now get dressed in something warm and meet me back here. You have five minutes.”
“Okay,” she grumbled and swung her legs over the bedposts, “but I’m not going to brush my teeth.”
“You brush your teeth!” Trenton called as she slammed the bathroom door behind her. Before he could barge into the bathroom and oversee her dental hygiene, a knock sounded at the door.
“Mr. Lorde,” a voice called. “I brought the package.”
“Coming.” He raced to the door and admitted a bright-eyed bellboy. The young man handed him the basket and a jangle of keys. “I’m sorry it’s not the prettiest—”
“It runs, right?”
“Well, yes…”
“Then that’s good enough for me. Thank you.”
“I should be saying that to you,” the kid said with a bob of his head. “You’re an answer to prayer, sir. I was going to drop out of school tomorrow because I couldn’t pay my school fees. I hope your wife enjoys it.”
“I hope so too.” Trenton closed the door just as Breana emerged from the bathroom.
“Who was it?”
“Someone from the hotel,” he said. Her eyes dipped to the basket at his feet. “We’re going somewhere.” He answered her unspoken question. “Are you ready?”