Page 94 of It Should Have Been Me

24. Catalina

“So, who’s meeting meat the airport?” I ask Gerald.

He is the operations manager of the Golden Sands Hotel Group, and I have been working very closely with him during my stay here in London. We’ve been mapping out all the details and designs of the pieces they want at each hotel. It’s been a grueling process. Long hours at the company’s head office with many different people to finalize a full itinerary, costs, budgets, and all those fun things before I officially start at the first hotel. I didn’t mind the endless meetings. They were welcomed distractions, a way to keep my thoughts from straying too far away.

JP was right about this stupid heart of mine. It aches all the time. Even when the excitement built inside me discussing my ideas for the poolside sculptures, the pain was there, ripping me apart behind my smile. Even when I was in awe while they turned my designs into holograms so I could have a visual of how they would look in 3D, the pain was hiding in the tears I refused to let fall.

I fly out to Dubai today, and I’m almost bursting with anticipation. Almost. While there is a genuine joy that my life is going exactly how I want it to, that joy is empty somehow. Nothing feels like it used to. I switch on the radio every morning, fully expecting to hear Isa and Tommy and I’m left disappointed with the prim and proper hosts who are incapable of filling my day with that level of laughter. I go for a run and there’s...no one running beside me. It just seems like there are so many things missing from my life. It’s been turned upside down and I can’t seem to find anything. My future was meticulously mapped out, yet I feel so lost. I keep thinking it will get better, but three weeks have passed, and it just keeps getting worse. I miss him so much.

Phi. The golden ratio depicted by the perfect spiral. Scott compared it to the beauty found in nature. Roses. Nautilus shells. And he saw the same beauty in me. But phi can also be seen in the destruction caused by nature. The spiral of a tornado. The eye of a hurricane. And I see the same destruction in him. My life was perfect, and just like a hurricane, he barreled through it with high-speed winds and destroyed everything, stripping me of all I hold dear.

The initial gust took away my boyfriend, damaging my relationship beyond repair. Then came a howling gale that dampened my need for adventure. The bright lights of the cities I’m going to be living in seem a little dull now, their appeal not as extravagant as they used to be. I’ve been wracking my brain these last few weeks trying to figure out why I’m so depressed. I’ve been living without Scott just fine for years now. I did it once. I can do it again.

Only this time is a million times harder. The first time I left, I had every intention of going back. The fact that I knew there was a time limit on how long I’d be away from him made the pain bearable. I could tell myself:just a few months and then we’ll be together again. But I can’t do that now. There’s no time limit, so nothing is making this pain bearable. I just have to live through this wreckage left behind after the hurricane.

Phi. The golden ratio. The spiral that symbolizes perfection. That was Scott Carter. My perfect storm. The storm that upended my entire life and now I’m left with nothing...not even him.

“The lady’s name is Fathima,” Gerald replies as the cab driver and I try to stuff my suitcases into the trunk. “She’ll pick you up and take you to your apartment. You’re going to love it! It’s right on Jumeirah Beach. I went there when we opened the hotel last year. It’s beautiful.” I hear some shuffling of papers before his voice comes through the phone again. “So, tomorrow, Fathima will pick you up at eight and take you to Golden Sands Hotel. You’re going to meet Shafiq, and he’ll show you around and take you to the area where you’ll be working. Anything you need, you just ask him, and he’ll sort it out for you, okay?”

“Great. I can’t wait to get started.”

“Are you already on your way to the airport?”

“Getting into the cab right now,” I reply, sliding into the backseat.

“Alright. Call me when you settle in there.”

“Will do. Thanks for all the assistance, Gerald. Chat soon.”

I hang up and slip my phone into my purse.

“Where to, Ma’am?” the driver asks, tilting his head so he can look at me in the rear-view mirror.

“The airport.”

“Where are you going?”

I smile, but the pain is still there beneath it. I suppose I have to get used to it sometime. “Dubai.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’m sure you’re going to have a great holiday.”

“It’s not a holiday. It’s the beginning of the new chapter of my life.”

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