Charlie is patient, watching me and listening to my concerns. “If you really feel that way, I can cancel the hotel and get us one here.”
I look at his face and know he would do it in a heartbeat, even if there were some sort of penalty for canceling the same day. I can taste the acidity of fear in my mouth, or maybe that’s just breakfast clawing its way back up my throat. My will to fight this is giving way to reluctance. I know that this is what Charlie wants to do. He’s asked so little of me that I can’t deprive him of this. I pull my shoulders back, shaking off my fear as best I can.
“Fine, let’s do this.” I clench my teeth, marching up the stairs before I change my mind.
“It will be worth it,” Charlie says. “I promise.”
I keep my eyes squeezed shut the entire time, holding Charlie’s hand. I don’t care if it gives the impression of clinginess. He doesn’t seem to mind, rubbing his thumb over my hand with the limited access he has under my crushing grip.
A car whisks us from the airport directly to our oceanfront villa. I’m unable to tear my eyes from the window, watching the car bypass the homes of the locals, shops, and so much more. The transition from homes to the resorts is abrupt when we get closer to the water.
Calling our hotel oceanfront is an injustice; it’s so much more than that. From the lobby, I can see the branches of the villas extending over water. It’s the sort of place that only exists on Pictogram influencer pages, available to the elite and wealthy.
The entrance is wide open with travelers coming and going from the resort to various excursions. Those that are milling around the lobby look relaxed, a mixture of sunburned and tanned with drinks in their hands.
The hostess is delighted to welcome us as she checks for Charlie’s reservation. “Thank you so much for joining us. You are so young, is this your honeymoon?” she asks as she leads us to a golf cart.
Charlie wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close against his body and giving me a cheeky wink. I inhale the scent of him deeply, but I’m still tense against him, not used to being so close to him or feeling the side of his hard body pressed to my breast. Even after days of travel, he smells like clean laundry and mint, like sunlight and a cooling breeze wrapped into one.
“You bet, but this was a surprise for my bride. Any chance you can have the local stores send up some simple attire for her? Swimsuits, cover-ups, and dresses.” He glances down at me. “Anything else, dove?” he asks, smirking.
He is enjoying this immensely, watching me squirm under the discomfort of his generosity.
I smile and look at the woman driving the cart. “No, please don’t have anything sent. It's really unnecessary,” I plead, but if I’m being honest, I need it. I may have overpacked, but it’s mostly leggings, sweaters, and long-sleeved t-shirts. I’m ill prepared for a beach vacation. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought this was where we were headed.
He glances down to my feet, which are shoved into a ragged pair of Uggs. “Add some sandals too. You can have this all charged to my card after she decides what to keep.”
I grit my teeth, vowing to challenge him when we don’t have someone right there. If he wants to be flashy in front of others, then I’ll let him do it.
She stops the golf cart at the entrance to the row of villas. The hostess leads us down a dock, which has villas on all sides, about twenty in total. Our villa is the farthest one from the shore. She’s talking about the island and all the activities available to us, but I don’t internalize a word she says. The water here is crystal clear and I can see fish swimming below. Every six feet, there is a pane of plexiglass, which leads us to look down at the fish beneath our feet. I pause at the first one to watch a school of fish swim by.
He was right; that last flight was worth it.
“As requested, the two villas on either side of you are vacant, and this is where you will be staying. I have noted that you would like breakfast served in the villa.”
She unlocks the door, letting Charlie and I walk in. Inside there is a rowing machine in the living room, and honestly I think we have an entire house, not a hotel room. The main living space is open concept with a dining area, couch, and small kitchenette. On either side of the living space are doors that lead to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The doors to a patio are open so that the wind is blowing the sheer curtains inside.
“Your rowing machine per your request, Mr. Breckenridge,” she says as she waves her hand towards the exercise equipment. “We also have the fridge stocked with water. Through this doorway is the first bedroom with a queen bed, but this is the master.”
She leads us into the larger of the rooms, completely ignoring the first room. I have to remind myself to breathe when I look at the space. It’s large, nearly larger than my entire apartment. A four poster king bed sits against the far wall with a mosquito net around it that’s pulled back for the time being. Through a doorway I glimpse which I imagine is the bathroom. I can’t be positive of that because on the water side of the room, there is a large soaker tub, certainly big enough for two, that looks out a set of French doors that lead to an outdoor patio. The tub in the bedroom says it all. This room is for fucking. Out on the patio, there are chairs and umbrellas spread out, wrapping around back to the living room. There is also a hammock that sits over the water and a plunge pool.
Charlie is just as in awe, taking in the sights of the villa. Neither of us can believe this place is real.
“Thanks. That will be all,” he says, slipping the hostess money. “Can you have some breakfast sent to us now?”
“Of course, sir. Right away,” she says before slipping out.
“Charles.” I turn to him, his body so close to mine. I have to use his proper name because of how lavish the space is.
He cuts me off, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t. The doctor suggested a change of scenery might help your brain relax a little. So I figured this would be relaxing,” he says earnestly.
“Yeah, a change of scenery. Like, maybe a cabin in the Catskills away from the city. Not fifteen hours away on an island in Bora fucking Bora!” I say looking around. I throw myself on the couch, dramatically. I don’t let him answer before barreling on.
“And the clothes? Really?” I ask, not even sure where to start. I let my arm drape over my face.
“Look, I’ve been a Scrooge with money. My biggest extravagance was buying my apartment. I am otherwise a workaholic. You see how bad I can get. I needed this break just as much as you and I needed a good reason to spend my money. This makes me happy. Seeing your face when you watched the fish made me happy. If you told me that you wanted to stay another two weeks, I would say to hell with my father and we would stay another two weeks.”
I glower at him for using how hard he works against me. He sits beside me on the couch, lifting my feet so they settle on this lap. His finger digs into the sore muscles around the scar on my knee, massaging it. He doesn’t let me object.