“I’ll see you Thursday?” Selena slid her shades on.
“What’s Thursday?”
“Joan, could you please earn your unnecessary paycheck?” she blew a kiss at me as the driver shut the door.
“What’s she talking about Joan?”
“Thursday is your engagement party. You told me not to mention it until the day before.”
“Exactly. What else do I have to do today?”
“Just dinner with the sweepstakes finalists at seven. Do I need to cancel?”
“No, not at all. I’ve got plenty of time,” I lay back in my seat. “Driver, could we swing by The New York Appeal?”
“Yes sir. Thirty minutes.”
“She’s not there,” Joan flipped a page in her book.
“What’s that Joan?”
“Miss Carter. She’s on vacation in St. Barts.”
“How do you—”
“I went to college with her assistant. That’s as much as I could get out of her though.”
“How much do I pay you?”
“Not enough,” she grinned.
Chapter 11
Melody
“I’m never going to finish my thesis,” Jennifer closed the door to our balcony. “This place is awesome!”
We were staying in a private villa that overlooked the ocean. Our place had two separate bathroom suites and a private pool with two tiers. There was a large lounge area on our rooftop and we had unlimited access to a five star spa. Since we were on the secluded part of the island, we had our own personal staff to attend to our every need.
“What happens if you don’t finish it?” I slipped into my bikini.
“I’ll never get my degree and I’ll try to be a food critic I guess,” she shrugged.
“You want to go for a swim?”
“Yeah, but I need to read at least twenty chapters of research while we’re here so…I’m going to read three right now.”
“Okay cool. I’ll come back for you in what, two hours?”
“Sounds great!” she pulled a book out of her bag and flopped onto the bed.
I grabbed my purse and blanket and headed down to the shore.
I was proud of myself for making use of the vacation. Even though I cried during our first tour of the island, I was happy to be close to my true love: the ocean.
The ocean always made me feel at peace, like all of my problems were insignificant. Every time I felt its waves crashing over me, I felt as if my worries were going along with them.
I still hadn’t opened the envelope from Sean, and I really wanted to toss it into the ocean fully sealed. Yet, I suddenly became curious. I lay back on my blanket and tore the flap.
Dear Melody, Please believe me when I say that I am sorry, truly and ashamedly sorry. I never had any intention of hurting you or leaving you at the altar.
You were always the woman I wanted to marry, the woman I wanted to grow old with. I know there’s no point in rehashing old memories or former intents, so I’ll just be honest.
When you moved into my condo two months ago, I was extremely excited—about our upcoming wedding, our upcoming honeymoon, and of course our upcoming life together. I’d wanted to make you mine for the past two years and I was glad we were both in positions that finally made that possible.
I thought you and I were on the same page about our future, that we shared the same ideals, but one night you mentioned children. And then you mentioned something about turning your office into a nursery. You mentioned abandoning the city life in a couple of years, exchanging it for a life of peace and serenity in the suburbs.
I must admit now that I never wanted, nor do I want now, any of those things. I pretended that I did in conversations with you, but in my mind I was confused and agitated.
I know now that I should have talked with you about these issues, but I didn’t want to start a fight, hurt your feelings, or have you leave me…
One evening in March, I was at work helping a woman find an appropriate charm for a bracelet her boyfriend gave her. For whatever reason, she opened up to me—telling me how she’d spent the past five years in a relationship that only made him happy. They were perfect together at one point, but their goals and ideas about the future were too different. She knew that she would have to end it soon because the only charm she could think to add was a trash bin, a sign of wasted time.
She cried and I offered to take her out for a drink. (I even called and invited you to join us, but you were still working on the “L-Haute” project) She and I spoke for about two hours and I paid for her cab ride home.
She came back to Belazi the next day and we went out again…and again…On some days, I didn’t go to work at all. I went straight to her place and we continued talking for two months, realizing that we were both in similar situations.
I made the mistake of sleeping with her three days before our wedding, a mistake I will always regret. I should have been honest with you. I should have called off the wedding the very next day, but I couldn’t…
You were so happy, so obliviously happy, and I still loved you (and I always will). I was going to go through with the wedding and the honeymoon and act like Emily never happened, like it was just a blip on an otherwise clean slate.
Standing there at the altar with you, I almost thought that was possible…until Emily showed up. Even though we’d only known each other for two months, I knew without a doubt that I was in love with her.