Maybe if I can still surprise him, we’ve got a shot.
When the flight attendants open the door, a wave of heat and humidity sweeps into the plane.
Welcome to Belize.
It seems like as good a place as any for starting over. All of the important milestones of our relationship have happened in tropical locations, so I’ll take it as a good omen.
*
Two and a half years ago
Benjie was in love. Apparently the bartender he’d met for drinks was the one, and they’d spent every free moment together.
If it were any other trip, I’d be ready to strangle him, but secretly, I was thankful for the excuse to spend more time with Dane.
Dane.
He was so unlike any of the guys I’d met for drinks or a quick dinner since graduating from business school, and definitely not like any of the guys I dated in college.
He was all man. It wasn’t just the tattoos and muscles, it was the way he didn’t fill every lapse in the conversation with stories about himself and things that should impress me. For some reason, that impressed me even more.
Wind whipped off the water and flung my hair into my face as we walked down a chair-lined aisle out to a covered pier. You might think it would be awkward to walk down an aisle next to your vacation fling, but not so much with him.
The companionable silence between us broke when Dane turned away from the water to face me. “I have to leave in the morning.”
I heard the reluctance, but also the finality of it.
“What?” I searched his brown eyes like they were going to give me an explanation. “I thought you said—”
He shook his head. “I know what I said. But plans changed. I got called in to work.”
“That sucks.”
Dane lifted a hand to cup my cheek, and we faced each other in the same spot where a bride and groom would probably stand tonight and say their vows as the sun sank into the ocean. “I want to see you again, Kat. Tell me you want to see me too.”
I swallowed, surprised he wanted to take what I’d convinced myself was a fling beyond the confines of the vacation.
“Say yes,” he said. “Don’t make me kidnap you the next time I want to see you.”
Thoughts and ideas streaked through my brain like pinballs going wild in an arcade game. This was the worst time in the world for me to start a new relationship . . .
Dane noticed my hesitation. “You’re driven. Ambitious. I am too. We only get one ride, Kat, and I think you’re meant to be part of mine. Say yes, and I promise you won’t regret it.”
We only get one ride. Those words could have been tattooed on my heart for how much I agreed with the concept.
Life is short. Take risks. There are no guarantees. You might not get another chance.
Those lessons were hammered home hard with my mom. One day you think everything is fine and the next, you’re handed a horrible death sentence.
All it took was a tremor through my hand for me to give an answer. I squeezed my fingers into a fist and released them.
“Yes.”
When he led me back down the aisle, wedding guests were beginning to filter in.
Maybe, just maybe, someday we’ll be walking down an aisle like this for a completely different reason.
Nah, that’s just crazy. Right?
*
Present day
Dane strides alongside me, his duffel bag on his shoulder. I pull my carry-on behind me as we follow a yellow-painted line on the sidewalk into the airport that will undoubtedly lead to Immigration and Customs.
When I met him on weekends in romantic tropical locations while we were dating, I’d be giddy with excitement at this point. But today is completely different. He still hasn’t spoken to me, and the silence has reached a level beyond painful.
I want to say something. Anything.
I’ve always loved Dane because he let me be me, concentrating on his own business, and then we found our common ground in the middle when we were both able to steal time.
That lasted for a year after we said I do.
How did I let it get so bad? Why didn’t I do something to stop it?
When the couples ahead of us stop in view of the immigration-officer booths, I find the voice I seemed to have lost on the flight.
“I didn’t know what destination address to put on the immigration form.”
He glances down at me, his dark eyes searching my face. “You could’ve asked.”
“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to bother you,” I say, but what I really mean is I didn’t want to poke the sleeping bear.
“Give me your form.”
I fish it out of my purse and hand it over with a pen.
He says nothing, just scribbles an address in the spaces I left blank, and hands it back to me. The line inches forward, and I can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversations happening all around us.
“So, first snorkeling, and then cave-tubing, and then we’re going to do the zip-line. Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned.” This comes from the perfectly pink lips of a perky young brunette with Bride printed on her shirt in gold script.
Honeymooners. How sweet.
Her new husband smiles at her indulgently, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “What makes you think I’m going to let you out of our room?”
She giggles, and something that might be cute any other day sounds like nails on a chalkboard today.
Because I don’t have that anymore.
“You coming?”
Dane tosses the question over his shoulder as he waits for me at the front of the line. I close the gap between us and follow him to the next available immigration booth.
I hand him my passport and arrival document, and he slides them through the hole in the Plexiglas window. The immigration officer picks mine up first, glances from the picture to me, and then back at the passport.
“You stole my name.” The man’s accented English, the noise from the excited travelers in line, and the barrier between us all work together to make it hard to hear him.
Dane stiffens.
“Excuse me?” I ask.