Page 6 of Submit

Waking up Saturday morning, it only takes me a second to realize his side of the bed is empty. I slip a tank top over my head and make my way toward the kitchen where I smell the blessed coffee. I’m quickly settling into a morning routine that includes a few quiet moments on our porch with a cup of steaming black coffee in hand, taking in the ocean below me. I haven’t had much time to actually spend at the beach or in the ocean just yet and I’m bursting at the seams with excitement to get in the water today during our lesson.

For a native New Englander, I spent a shockingly small amount of time on the coast growing up. My parents were big skiers and I was skiing on my own by the time I was four so we often opted to hit the slopes in the winter and spent summers at the lake. Over the few years I had with my parents, we took a couple of beach vacations but never anywhere exotic and my parents always warned against the harsh rays of the sun so we rarely ventured south.

That all changed when I went to Stanford. Only twenty-five minutes from the beach, I spent as much time out there as possible. I liked the deeper tan in my skin that the sun brought out and I felt healthier overall, both physically and mentally.

Aruba makes me feel the same way.

It’s strange how this place makes me feel like both a foreigner to myself, like I haven’t ever fully known myself as an adult, and yet also like I’m coming home, as if I’ve known this place forever.

I hear Will before I see him and he’s in a heated conversation with someone on the phone. I decide not to interrupt and proceed to pour my coffee and head to the porch without saying hello.

I hear him hiss something in Dutch through the screen door once I’m seated outside and it catches me off guard because he doesn’t usually speak Dutch at home. He once said that he didn’t want me to feel like he was keeping secrets so he chooses to speak only in English around me which I’ve always appreciated even though I’ve always had a thing for accents. Hearing a foreign language come so naturally out of my own fiancé’s mouth just now turns me on with an unexpected ferocity.

Based on his tone, it seems he could use a way to blow off steam and I’m excited that I have the desire to help. Our kitesurfing lessons don’t start until ten so we have two and a half hours to kill. I set my coffee down on the whicker end table next to my chaise lounge chair and make my way back to Will’s office.

I peek around the corner and notice that he’s off the call. Slipping inside, I park myself on the edge of his desk - in just my thong and transparent yellow tank top.

He barely spares me a glance despite my hardened nipples or my toned thighs, both of which are on full display. “Morning, Lib. How’d you sleep?”

Refusing to let him derail my mission, I respond, “I slept great but I woke up wanting you and you were already gone.”

“Sorry about that. I had an 8am call with someone in headquarters,” he explains, still not looking at me.

“Headquarters? LikeHolland?”

“That’s the one.”

“Will, they’re five hours ahead of us! They scheduled a call with you atthree o’clock in the morning?On aSaturday?”

“It’s a big job, Lib,” he deadpans and if I never hear those words again it’ll be too soon.

It’s evident that I’m not going to get the reaction I’d hoped for, so I slide off his desk trying not to let my disappointment in his rejection show. I’m still determined to put on a brave face until he gets this project in swing and we have a chance to settle. “Okay, well, I’ll be on the porch. I signed up for that Dutch class and I have a pretest to complete online. Don’t forget we need to leave by nine thirty to make sure we have enough time to fill out the waivers and stuff.”

“Waivers?” he asks when I’m at the door and my heart sinks. He’s already forgotten.

“Yeah, we’re going kitesurfing at ten, remember?”

“Lib, I’m really sorry, there’s no way I’m going to be able to do that today. I’m supposed to meet with a few of the locals who are leading the protest of the windmills and hear their concerns. I can’t brush that off.”

“But you can brush me off?” I sigh, defeated. I’m not whining, just pointing out that once again, Will’s chosen work over me. Overus.That damn nagging in my head comes back loud and clear. “You act like I’m inconveniencing you by asking you to spend time with me.”

“Lib, you knew this was going to be a big deal. Ahugedeal, in fact. I’m trying to support us and give us a nice life. I’m sorry if living oceanfront in the Caribbean wasn’t all you’d dreamed it would be,” he snaps sarcastically, hurting my feelings more than I care to admit.

The worst part of his sentence isn’t even the words, it’s the tone of indifference in which he says it. At least if he were yelling at me, I’d know he cared. Now, I’m not sure what to think as his mood swings grow larger and more frequent.

I’ve had a bad habit in the past of assuming that Will was more valuable because he made the money and he proverbially picked me up and gave me direction as I floundered about after college graduation, but over the last several months, Harper helped me see that that’s not true. I’m just as valuable, I just need to recognize that and take more control in voicing my dreams and acting on them even if they inconvenience Will sometimes.

“That’s not fair, Will,” I say, calling him out on his sarcasm.

“Well, neither is giving me a guilt trip when I’mbusting my ballsfor us.” I regret the day I taught him that phrase as his words lash out at me. He runs a hand through his blond hair. I drop my eyes realizing that he’s already in a suit and tie. I guess his meeting was a videoconference?

It would do no good to tell him that he’s busting his balls forhimself. He’s missing the point. I wanted to be withhim.I’d have moved to bumfuck nowhere if it meant he and I could recapture that first year and a half we were together. I know the butterflies fade, but at this point, we don’t even have caterpillars that could potentially turnintobutterflies and the distance is only growing despite the move to paradise.

I resign myself to spending another day alone and decide I’ll try to make some friends at my lesson. Even as big of an introvert as I am, I know I’ll need someone to talk to soon because right now, I’m starting to feel like that prisoner Harper said I’d become.

I don’t acknowledge Will’s last statement and simply say, “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Four

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