My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

I decide a shower is in order as a way to refresh my body and mind, not to mention wash off the smells of sweat and food, before Abigail returns. The hot water is heaven, relaxing muscles I didn’t even know were tense.

By the time I get out, I feel like scotta pasta, overcooked and mushy. Nude, I lay out on the bed with the lamp on to wait for Abigail. I can’t wait to hear about her day.Sometime in the early morning hours, I startle awake. I don’t know what I heard or why my eyes pop open, and I settle slightly. Then I remember . . . I’m waiting for Abigail.

In the corner of my vision, I see a dark shape in the bed with me. My heart leaps automatically, and then I smile at my own ridiculousness. It’s her.

My bleary eyes focus, tracing the outline of her black clothes against the white of the bed sheets in the dim light. Poor thing must’ve fallen into bed straight from finishing for the night.

I get up, carefully pulling her sensible flats off her cute little feet, noting how red her toes look. I consider removing her clothes so she is more comfortable, but don’t want to risk waking her if she’s as exhausted as I am.

At least we have tomorrow morning to enjoy the island before our flights out.

I pick up my phone, pulling up the resort’s website to see if there might be a particular way to make the most of our last morning in Aruba.

Reservation made, I set my alarm so we don’t sleep too late. We need rest, obviously. But we need something else even more.

I turn the lamp off and curl up behind Abigail, making her the little spoon to my big, and cover us over with a blanket.

Sleep overtakes me quickly once again, more restful with Abigail in my arms.“Where are you taking me?” Abigail asks as I lead her down the hallway. She was a little suspicious when I asked her to put on a blindfold in the elevator, accusing me of having a few Fifty Shades fantasies, but she’s been a good sport so far. Especially considering the blindfold is less silken luxury and more linen napkin from the suite.

I’m working with what I’ve got here.

“Don’t worry, just a few more seconds,” I assure her, guiding her around the final curve.

There are two women there to meet us, but I raise a finger to my lips to tell them to be quiet and they smile as they nod. One of them holds open the door and silently mimes what they want me and Abigail to do.

They close the door behind them to give us a few moments of privacy, and I stand behind Abigail with my hands on her shoulders. I can feel the tension there, from the week’s stress I’m sure, but is there something else too? Maybe she’s sad to see this fake honeymoon end the way I am?

“Abigail, you give so much to so many, making nature’s beauty into something even more magical. So I want to give something to you.” A shiver works its way down her spine at my heated words delivered directly into the delicate shell of her ear. “You deserve the sun and moon and stars. And more. Unfortunately, though I wish I could, I could not capture them for you, so instead, I offer you something less, but hopefully, it will be enough.”

I untie the knot of the napkin, letting it fall away from her eyes. I watch as she blinks before looking around. The light is dim in the room, though there is one full wall of tinted glass. In the middle of the small space sit two white sheet-covered tables.

“You got us massages?” she asks on a gasp.

“I did. You worked so hard yesterday. We both did. We need this.”

We need many things, but this will have to be enough for now. I’m too uncertain to begin the dangerous conversation burning in my throat. Unsure of myself and even more of Abigail.

But I won’t let that mar this one last pristine, beautiful day in paradise.

“The massage therapists will be in momentarily. They said to strip and lie under the sheet.”

Abigail nods but looks carefully at the window. It’s wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling gray glass. “The beach looks awesome out there, but I’m not sure naked beach time massages are on my bucket list,” she says shyly.

I laugh, feeling the same way. I’m a risk taker, but that might be a bit much. “It’s one-way glass. We get all the beauty of the sand, sea, and sky, but no one can see in. I confirmed it with Esmar, and if anyone would know, it’s him.”

Abigail takes Esmar’s word, though she doesn’t even know him, and starts to undress.