Page 3 of Submit

“I know, Lib, but amarriageproposal?” Harper’s shrill voice on the other end of the line brings me back to the present. We’re still dissecting the situation. “Seems a little aggressive just because you’re moving, doesn’t it?”

She means well, but I was hoping at least one of the girls would lie and tell me it’s a great idea.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harper. Will isn’t trying to lock me away somewhere. He’s working hard to give us a fresh start.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more with that statement: me or her.

“Lib, he’s moving you to an entirely different country, one wherehehas full citizenship and speaks the language, and you don’t, I might add. I’m just saying, proceed with caution.”

Her words make tears form in my eyes as I realize she may very well be the only person in my life who would voice this concern. I really should work on fixing that.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I will, Harper, I promise.”

Why spend the last two and a half years in this relationship if I don’t want to make a future with Willem? Now that the opportunity is here, I want to thrive with him. Maybe he was right and this is the push we needed to stoke the fires of our relationship.

My heart swells with the revelation.

A small flicker of hope ignites in my chest as another encouraging thought crosses my mind: Perhaps, I can use my skill set to help small business owners in Aruba and finally launch my marketing firm - once my paperwork comes back of course. People in America go totally crazy over authentic, quality, handmade items from places like that. A small smile crosses my face as I realize I have something to throw myself into once we arrive.

I send Willem a text telling him about my epiphany, although I’m not shocked when two hours later, he has yet to respond to my new found enthusiasm and I find myself deflating a little, yet again.

~

WHEN WE TOUCH DOWN in Aruba, my heart is racing a mile a minute and I can’t stop looking out the small window. I have no idea what to expect. I’ve never been to the Caribbean before. As a citizen of Holland, Willem has travelled here once or twice with his parents growing up, but even for him, it’s been a while.

He doesn’t talk about his childhood often; sometimes I think it’s because he knows mine was no walk in the park and he gets uncomfortable if I get emotional.

As I descend the movable staircase of the plane, lost in my thoughts, the first thing I notice about Aruba is that it’s hot. Likereallyhot even though it’s only April. The sun feels exquisite as it starts to thaw my frozen, New England skin. I smile into the warmth of the rays as I inhale the scent of the ocean and can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. A weightlessness for a brief moment as something inside me clicks into place.

Welcome home.

We claim our bags and step outside the airport, immediately seeing a man flash a white sign that has our names on it and I feel myself smile. This isfancy.

The man’s eyes very obviously trail down the length of my body and widen just a fraction when we make eye contact. I get it, sometimes my eyes even startlemewhen I look in the mirror. An icy blue that is almost translucent, I’ve never met anyone else whose eyes come close to mine in clarity or color.

Willem pulls me in to his side before squeezing my hand and smiling down at me. For a second I think he’s being possessive and claiming me until he causally says, “This is good, right?” It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about the move in general and not the man eye-fucking me. In fact, he hasn’t even noticed the man’s hungry gaze or that he just licked his lips and winked.

I bite back a smart remark and smile. “Yes, Will, this is good.” No need to ruffle his feathers thirty-six seconds after landing.

Our driver pulls up to what is supposedly our new home only twenty minutes later.

No freaking way.

A very modern, three-story, gray painted concrete house with black accents is in front of me. Beyond it, through the little gate to the garage, I can see the cerulean blue of the Caribbean Sea.And I thought the view from the plane was gorgeous.

I hear the trunk pop and car doors open. Will’s speaking in Dutch to the driver so I can’t tell what he’s saying, but his tone is clipped. He’s clearly unhappynowfor some reason and I hope the mood doesn’t linger. Maybe hewaspaying attention earlier and just didn’t want to make a scene.

Willem’s company told us to ship everything we couldn’t live without and leave the rest behind so the day after Willem told me the news, the majority of our clothes, along with our photo albums, and a few other precious items were shipped. It was all small enough to be shipped via FedEx so everything Iabsolutelyneed is already here, thank God. The house itself comes fully furnished and I marvel again at how easy it was to uproot our entire lives.

I make it as far as the terrace out back and stop in my tracks, unable to move my feet anywhere that would cause me to leave this view. On the main floor of the house - technically the second of the three levels - is an incredible, open porch that overlooks the water as it crashes right into the cliff at the edge of the property. There’s a set of stairs that leads down to a small dock on the water and an infinity pool is built into the back deck. The rock has been cut out and replaced with a sheet of glass so it looks like the water is being magically held back on our deck by some invisible force.

In this moment, I don’t care how many orgasms I have to fake, I know that I want to stay here forever. My soul feels lighter as the sun beats down on me in this new paradise I get to call home. Being here feels like that thing that was missing…only I didn’t know it was missing until I found it.

I have no idea how long I stand out here breathing the scent of saltwater deep into my lungs before I feel two arms wrap around me.

Willem leans down to nuzzle my neck even as the light Caribbean breeze whips my obsidian hair around my face. “Do you like it, Lib? Think we can be happy here?” he asks, the same note of anxiety from earlier breaking into his voice. His moments of vulnerability really soften my heart toward him.

I lean back, settling into the familiar body of the man behind me and for the first time in a long time, I actually think that perhaps we can find happiness with each other again.

“I do, Will. What an amazing opportunity. Why don’t we scope out some local spots this week before you have to go into the office?” I suggest, needing to find some territory that feels like “ours” in such a foreign land, despite the fact that it already feels like home.

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