Page 83 of Ex Marks the Spot

I owe Court a genuine, face-to-face apology.

My heart is going to take a harder hit next week than I originally thought.

There is a hundred percent chance I’m in love with him again. Or maybe I always was.

I see Court rub his chin out of the corner of my eye. I don’t dare look his way out of fear he’d be able to read my mind. Instead, I squeeze my backpack straps and brace for the answer we both know is coming.

Instead, he shocks me by saying, “That’s an interesting question. Unfortunately, I didn’t pack my crystal ball, but I guess it goes back to what Hartley said—anything’s possible on Xtreme Quest.”

When the front desk agent told us about the amenities in our deluxe corner suite (specifically, the rainfall shower, Jacuzzi on the wraparound balcony, and view of the Acropolis), we negotiated a deal with her to swap our complimentary spa service for laundry service. She looked at us like we were nuts, but that’s because she doesn’t understand that fabric softener is a far greater luxury than a massage.

Besides, the room itself is so gorgeous that there’s no need to leave. I’m talking high-end wood flooring, wood accents on the walls, the sleekest bathroom I’ve ever seen, and fabrics that likely cost more than my car payment per yard. There’s also one king-sized bed instead of two queens.

I suspect that was Wendell’s doing, but I’m not complaining.

After taking full advantage of the shower (very spacious), deluxe toiletries (very bougie), and complimentary bathrobes (very plush), we send our clothes away with a nice young woman named Elena who says she’ll have them back to us in about six hours.

I’m sitting at the foot of the bed flipping through TV channels when Court comes back from locking the door. “Anything good?”

“Lots of soccer, a cooking show, a newscast, and”—I study the screen, where a man and woman are having an impassioned discussion on a couch—“a Greek soap opera.”

Clapping his hands in mock excitement, he says, “I’ve beendyingto watch a Greek soap opera,” and plops onto the mattress beside me. “What do we think this one is about?”

“Some sort of lovers’ disagreement.”

“Hmm.” He watches for a moment, then says, “I’m leaning toward an inter-office affair. He’s her boss and he’s trying to break it off. She’s begging him not to.”

“I think you’re right about begging, but that’s a worried face. See?” I mimic the woman’s position and shift to face Court, gripping the lapels of his robe. “Don’t go, Acropolis! It’s far too dangerous.”

Without missing a beat, he clutches my wrists and holds me in place. “I have to, Tzatziki. It’s the only way to break the curse and restore philosophy to the village.”

“We’ll learn to live without philosophy. It doesn’t make sense anyway.”

“Uncle Socrates says a life without philosophy is a life half-lived, and Tzatziki”—Court takes my face in his hands and peers into my eyes—“everyone in the village deserves to live a thousand full lives together.”

I rise along with the woman on the TV and open the imaginary door. “Thengo with Jason and the Argonauts and defeat the jackalpottamus so you can return to me.”

He hops off the mattress and kisses me before stepping through the threshold. “My heart has always been yours, Tzatziki. There is no mountain I wouldn’t cross, no fire I wouldn’t forge to be with you again.” He pauses in thought, then says, “Except for maybe the bladesmith in Nepal, but I’m sure you understand. Farewell, my little green olive.”

“Goodbye, Acropolis. I will see you in seven to ten business days.”

Court snort laughs as the show cuts to commercial. “Seven to ten business days?”

I tilt my head and shrug. “It seemed like a reasonable amount of time to defeat a jackalpottamus.”

He’s still laughing when he pulls me to his chest, but we fall silent soon after. I let myself get lost in the moment. To pretend Court’s improvised words were meant for me. That we could be the ones living a thousand full lives together. We wouldn’t even need that many.

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