by Amanda Aksel
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Kyle says gently. He jumps from his chair over to mine, facing me as I cover my eyes. I shouldn’t have had those last two beers. Kyle rubs the edge of my shoulder. “It’s not always going to be like this.”
“Thank god, because I’m not sure how much more of it I can take.”
“Jake will be home next week. And in the meantime, I can bring dinner again tomorrow. We can play one of those board games you like. Invite Sloan too if you want.”
I will my trembling chin to steady and look up at him with tears puddling in my eyes. “Why are you being so nice?”
“Because I care about you—you guys.”
I stare into his kind, blue eyes, and for a split second wonder if I chose the wrong guy. But I shake it off, and the thought is gone as quickly as it arrived. I need to get my shit together. Jake’s the love of my life. We’re just going through a rough patch. I’m lonely, horny, and drunk. Of course Kyle’s gonna look like a million-dollar property on the water to me.
***
Kyle keeps his promise and shows up with Sloan at seven on the dot. This time with cartons of Chinese and a tattered Monopoly box. An hour later, I’ve got more property than the two of them combined. No surprise. But they don’t seem to care about more than their glasses of pinot grigio. And for the first time since Jake’s been gone, I actually feel okay.
My phone buzzes against the table. It’s Jake. Even better. “Excuse me guys.” I grab the phone and answer, “Hello?”
“Hey.” It’s good to hear his voice. I just wish he were here with us now.
I turn back to the table. “Don’t even think about cheating. I know exactly where everything is.” Kyle and Sloan share a look before I return to the call. “Sorry, baby.”
“What’s going on?” he asks against another noisy background. Maybe I should cut him some slack. It can’t be easy for him working so hard over there while we’re here having a blast.
“Sloan and Kyle are over here playing Monopoly.”
“I assume you’re winning,” he says. Jake is the only one who really gives me a run for my money. Always keeping me on my toes.
“You know it!”
“That’s my girl. I’m glad they’re keeping you company.”
“Yeah, but I’m looking forward to your company next week.”
“Yeah, about that . . .” Uh-oh. I don’t like the way that sounds. “I’m not going to be able to make it.”
I swear my heart just stopped. “What?! Why not?”
“We ran into a huge snag at one of the builds that may be an issue with the other ones.”
“Wait, what kind of snag?”
“Nothing devastating as long as we catch it now,” he says.
“Isn’t there someone who can cover for you this weekend?” Anyone?
“I wish there were, but this is something I have to handle. I’m so sorry, Quinn. I really wanted to see you. But I’ll be home as soon as it’s resolved. I promise.”
I shake my head. “I had a feeling something like this was going to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
I step into the laundry room and shut the door behind me. “That you’d get stuck out there, and I wouldn’t see you for months.”
Jake scoffs. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re having a great fucking time in Sin City while the old ball and chain’s at home taking care of everything else!” Why did I let him go?
“This isn’t a vacation. I’m trying to do something good for our family.”
“What family?” I throw my hands in the air, wishing I could pitch my phone too.
“Don’t go there with me, Natalie. You’re the one who gave up trying. Not me.”
Natalie? Did he just call me Natalie?
“I gave up trying? What do you call running away to the other side of the country when your marriage is in trouble?” The door may be closed, but I’m sure Sloan and Kyle have a front row seat to the Natalie and Jake smack down.
“You told me to go!” he yells.
I ball my fists, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. “Well, I was wrong. It’s not okay.” Please say it will be okay. Say you’ll come home and make this all go away.
“It’s too late now. We have to see this through.”
I just hope there’s something left when we get to the other side.
EPISODE TEN
O h my God, it is!
It’s him!
I swallow hard, and my stomach twists into a reef knot as I watch Jake drink his seltzer and ice fifteen feet away from us. Ugh, this piña colada is spoiling in my stomach as we speak. My ex leans over and kisses the woman in the Barbie-pink bikini. I blink my eyes dumbfounded and shake my head again. Am I really seeing this?
Kyle peels his back off the lounge. “What is it?”
I don’t want to tell him for obvious reasons.
This is supposed to be our cruise. Our chance to get away. Hmm, maybe we still can. The boat hasn’t started sailing yet. Maybe we’ve got time to get off the boat before—
“Is that Jake?” Kyle lifts his dark shades. “Holy shit, it is.”
“What is he doing here?” I mumble under my breath, climbing off the chair and slipping into my rubber flip-flops.
“Who’s he with?”
Who cares! He’s with us on this boat.
I turn to Kyle, nostrils flaring, teeth clenched, blood pumping over eighty knots a minute. “Did you tell him we were going on this cruise?” He followed us here. I know it. I can feel it as I dig my nails into my palm.
“No, I didn’t tell him anything.” Kyle stumbles to his feet.
Honk, Honk!
Kyle and I look up at the cloudless sky, and the ship begins to glide forward. Dammit! It’s too late. Would it be crazy to make a jump for it?
No, Natalie, that would be going overboard.
“Hey, Jake!” Kyle calls across the pool.
My ex-husband turns slowly until his gaze lands on us. His dark brows flick up in surprise.
Really, Jake?
Are you really surprised?
He smiles and waves us over. Kyle proceeds ahead, slowly but inevitably. I snatch my towel from the lounge and trek across the wet, paved poolside to the mosaic, sea glass colored tile. Jake’s girlfriend, or whatever, swivels her chair around. Wait a second. I know those cheekbones. Is he seriously with—?
“Emily?” Kyle blurts out just a few feet from his almost-fiancée.
Emily flashes a stark, whitening-strip smile at my husband. Geez, could this get any worse? With irritation boiling my blood, I stomp my foot against the slick tile. My traction-free sandal slides beneath me and takes me with it.
Oh no.
I’m going down.
I slip sideways. My plastic piña colada glass flies out of my hand and crashes against the tile just like me.
Ouch! My hip!
The sounds of horrified gasps from the pool crowd rival the steel pan calypso music playing overhead.
Oh. No. I. Didn’t!
Heat spikes up my face, and I squint my eyes in pain. What a beautiful bruise I’ve just given myself. Don’t cry, Natalie. Don’t you dare shed a tear!
“Honey, are you okay?” Kyle drags me upright by my arms like a heavy rope.
No, I’m not okay!
“I’m fine,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Did you hurt yourself?” Jake asks, hovering over me the same as Kyle.
Yeah, want a list of all the ways I’ve hurt myself? Marrying Jake would be at the top.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I shove them off and wrap the towel around my body. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs like we just ran into each other at our neighborhood grocery store. “I told you I was going out of town this weekend.”
That’s true. But he didn’t say he was also going to the Bahamas. I look to Emily, my husband’s ex—the one who never liked me. She ar
ches her back just enough to ensure we all know she’s a D cup. Something my ex-husband used to refer to as the Daaaammn cup, to which I would cross my arms over my small C’s and say, “Very mature, Jake.”
“What are you doing here?” Kyle asks his ex.
She inches closer to Jake, and he puts his arm around her tiny, tight waist. “Jake and I are together now.” I forgot just how charming her southern accent is.
Kyle has the same reaction I did just a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, we ran into each other at the Pelican Bar about a month ago, and things just kinda took off from there,” Jake offers.
My husband glares at him with a hint of betrayal in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We haven’t exactly been talking much since I left.”
Touché, but still. Dating your best friend’s ex. That’s like . . . exactly what Kyle did to him. Hmm. This is either the most carefully executed revenge prank or my life’s a soap opera.
“Kinda funny, us all ending up on the same boat like this, isn’t it?” Emily says.
That’s one way to put it.
Kyle and I both mutter some affirmative answer as we quietly put the pieces together in our minds.
Jake motions to the bar. “Hey, why don’t I buy you guys a drink?”
Kyle opens his mouth, and I know my keep-it-together husband is about to say yes.
“No, thanks,” I interject. “We were actually going to head back to our stateroom,” I narrow my stare at Jake, “see if we can unload our clothes . . . from our luggage.” Why am I feeling the need to have angry sex with my husband who I’m not even angry with? And why do I want Jake to know about it? I’ve spent the last year keeping things under wraps, trying to protect his feelings. Well, he’s over me now, apparently, and I am so over him. I look to my handsome, good man. “Right, honey?”
Kyle grabs me by the waist, putting pressure on my sore hip, and I bite my tongue as he pulls me closer. “Yeah, we gotta go.”
“Have fun, ya’ll,” Emily says. “I know we will.”
I wait until Kyle and I turn away to roll my eyes. We walk along the deck toward the doors, and I swear everyone is staring at us. Do they know there’s some seriously, stranded drama on this love boat? I lock eyes with a woman who gives me a long, pity filled look. Then my foot slides again, this time going forward.
Oh no.
Not again!
“She’s falling!” someone calls out.
I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for another collision, this time on my ass.
Kyle grabs my arms, saving me from more humiliation and bruising. “I got you.”
My heart races, and I’m not sure if it’s from the close encounter with the floor or with him. I gaze into his sky-blue eyes as the corners of his mouth turn up. I know he’s got me. He always has. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go buy you a better pair of sandals.”
“Good idea.”
***
We take the elevator down to our deck, and I’m grateful for the dry carpet beneath my bare feet. The ship moves, and I feel my stomach swirl again. Ugh. I never get seasickness this early. Maybe it’s see-sickness from seeing Jake with Emily on our cruise. Turning the corner, we pass other guests sporting swimsuits and Hawaiian shirts along the narrow hallway toward our stateroom. Our suitcases are waiting, tucked near the door. Kyle grabs the bags, and we shut ourselves inside.
“So, that just happened,” I say, sitting on the bed, sheets still wrinkled from before. It’s like we’re miles away from the happy, sex-crazed couple that boarded this ship.
Kyle shakes his head, baffled. “I don’t even . . .”
“Jake and Emily together, like how did that happen?”
“They met at a bar, I guess.”
I cross my arms. “Ugh. So cliché.”
He wrinkles his brow. “You met me at a bar, remember?”
Oops. I feel my cheeks flush along with unrelenting nausea. I met Jake at the bar too. “Yeah, but we were in our early twenties. It’s different.”
“I suppose.” He sits next to me. The smell of chlorine and coconut sunscreen lingers on his skin.
I sit quietly for a minute thinking about the whole scene. How I fell like a clumsy dumbass in front of my husband, my ex, and my husband’s ex! Not to mention a crowd of strangers I’m stuck with for three days. My stomach churns again and I wish desperately to erase it from my mind. So embarrassing. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Emily didn’t resemble a long-legged super model. With all the tanning she did back then, I did not think she’d age that well. Maybe Sloan was right, and both our exes got revenge bodies. Too bad there’s no way to tell her. No signal out here on the ocean.
I look over at Kyle who seems just as deeply lost in confused contemplation. Is he thinking what I’m thinking? “It must’ve been weird seeing Emily again.”
“Seeing her with Jake, yeah. But I run into her from time to time at the taco shop by my office. I saw her just a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know why she didn’t mention it.”
“You see your ex sometimes?”
“Yeah, she works over in that area too. I thought I told you that.”
My gaze traces the low ceiling. Has he mentioned that before? I don’t think I would have paid much attention to it. Especially since I found out that the reason they broke up wasn’t because she said no to his marriage proposal, but because she knew he’d been harboring feelings for me. That’s why she didn’t like me very much. I have a feeling that’s not going to change anytime soon.
“So,” I say, giving Kyle a suggestive gaze. “You wanna order room service and hide out in here for the next three days?”
***
Yeah, right. We’re mature adults. We don’t hide from our exes. Historically, we just move them into our house. With thousands of people on the boat, you think it’d be easy to avoid them. But I’ve caught glimpses of Jake and Emily every which way. It’s difficult to relax when I know our next run-in is just around the corner. But what can I do about it?
After the evening show, we decide to burn off our decadent four-course dinner by dancing the night away at Rhumba, the ship’s nightclub. Music fills the dark hallway leading the dimly lit bar divided by decorative pillars. The dance floor is packed with passengers that are barely legal, bumping and grinding to a popular new Latin-beat, hip-hop song. Bright neon orange and pink spotlights swirl around their vibrant, half-drunk faces.
Kyle and I make our way to the bar on the far wall, and the ship teeters back and forth. I take in a deep breath. Usually a glass of red wine at dinner will knock any queasiness away, but for some reason even that second glass isn’t doing anything for it.
“You want another drink?” my husband asks over the music.
“I’ll take a shot. Still feeling a little blah.” I’m hoping that a shot of liquor and moving my body around on the dance floor will keep this queasiness at bay.
I shoot back the cold liquor and close my eyes, feeling myself settle as the liquid singes my insides. Yeah, that’s better. I open them again. Jake and Emily are here, and they’re heading our way. So much for settling my stomach. I glance up at Kyle, who’s staring straight ahead with a friendly, carefree smile. Either he’s a champ or he’s really good a faking it.
“Hey guys,” he says.
I blink my eyes wide and stand up tall. After that epic fall earlier, I try to compensate by busting out my skin-tight, aqua blue, body-con dress and glimmering silver stilettos. Not to mention, if I’m going to compare myself to Emily, I might as well level the playing field.
“Didn’t think we’d see you here,” Jake says. Has he been avoiding us too?
“Well, the night is young,” Kyle offers. “Can I buy you two a shot?”
I shoot Kyle a look, and Jake mirrors it.
“Sorry, club soda for you and a cosmopolitan for you?” Kyle asks.
Emily grins, shooting my husband an appreciative look. “You remembered!”
&nb
sp; Oh god. Now I’m really going to be sick. I shake it off. Forget it, Natalie.
Jake squares his jaw. “Sure.”
And just like that we’re standing around in a little circle talking about who knows what. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to make small talk in a situation like this? I hope not, because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Soon after, the alcohol kicks in, and my seasickness fades away. Somehow our little circle has shifted—Kyle and Emily are having one conversation while Jake and I have another. Don’t worry. My husband and I still have our fingers intertwined. He’s staking his claim, and I’m staking mine.
“Well, this is weird,” I say.
Jake nods. “Tell me about it. When you said you were going to the Bahamas, I thought you were gonna fly there.”
“Yeah right. The last time I rode that dinky little plane to the island, I thought I was going to die.”
“Oh, I guess I missed that.” Yeah, because it was on my honeymoon with Kyle. And despite what you might think, Jake was not there.
The crowd around the bar grows thicker, and the four of us seem to have been herded to a corner. I breathe in the warm, humid air, smelling hints of orange and pineapple from spilled cocktails and, of course, Jake’s signature scent. It’s the one thing of his that I can’t get over. It pulls me in every time. I’ve learned to resist it, but for some reason, tonight it’s more difficult than usual.
The song changes to one of my favorites, and it jolts me out of the cologne haze.
“Oh, this is my jam!” I call out and yank at Kyle’s hand. “Let’s go dance!”
I pull my husband deep into the packed dance floor, hoping to lose Jake and Emily. I’m almost successful. Almost. I can still catch glimpses of Jake and Kyle’s ex dancing close on the other side. He sways his hips with hers and twirls her around. It’s so weird seeing him dance like that with someone the way he used to dance with me. I’m not a fan. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want him, but I don’t know if I want anyone else to have him either. Geez, what a sick, twisted thought.