Page 20 of No Time Off

“Yeah, me, too.”

She was quiet and I could hear her breathing slow and deepen. I was just nodding off to sleep when I heard her murmur, “I love you, Slash. Thank you for being you.”

“Ti amo,cara,” I whispered.

In that moment, I felt a surge of gratitude so deep, it almost hurt. How could I ever repay her for bringing light into my darkness? Before I met her, I had made peace with my loneliness, my past, my emotional solitude. I had neither expected nor believed I had earned the right to live a long life given my chosen career. But she was the first person who made me look inside myself and consider I might be worthy of happiness. And for that, I owed her everything.

I slipped a hand beneath my shirt, pulling out my father’s cross, the one I always wore. I pressed my lips to it, thanking him and others in my life who seemed to be looking out for me, even if they weren’t physically here. I believed they’d led me to Lexi. Because somehow, she was the only one who could fully love and accept the real me, all the good and the bad.

And for me…that would always be enough.

THIRTEEN

Slash

The next morning, we decided to explore the island by returning to the town center of Avarua. We asked the concierge at the resort how to summon a taxi, but she advised us to take the bus instead. Apparently, the buses were quite comfortable and circled the island on a regular schedule—one clockwise and one counterclockwise.

Taking the bus seemed like an adventure, so we waited out in front of the resort on a bench in the shade until the bus arrived. We’d exchanged enough American dollars for New Zealand dollars when we were at the airport, so we’d have plenty of local cash on hand for two weeks.

We hopped on the bus and paid our fare, while Lexi snapped a photo of our resort from the window. There were just a few other people on the bus; most looked like locals, not tourists.

Fantastic.

The bus made a couple more stops when a lady with two chickens in an open crate got on and sat directly across from us. Lexi drew in a sharp breath, her body tensing.

I sat in the aisle between Lexi and the chickens. I lowered my voice. “Don’t make eye contact with the chickens.”

“Very funny,” she whispered. “If those chickens get out, I can’t be responsible for what I might do.”

I pressed my lips together so I didn’t laugh. “I will protect you with my life,” I said as solemnly as possible.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’d better. It’s in the marriage code, number…thirteen.”

“You made that up,” I said.

“How do you know?” she challenged me. “You haven’t seen the code yet.”

I crossed my arms against my chest. “Because you paused before you picked a random number. So you made it up.”

“Well, maybe,” she confessed with a smile that warranted a kiss. “But I think I may add it. It fits us.”

That made me laugh, and I gave her the kiss I’d been thinking about. Thankfully, the chickens remained safely in their crate until we exited the bus near a busy shopping area.

“That was a close call,” she said, wiping her brow, and I laughed again.

Hand in hand, we walked along the side streets observing several newer government buildings and offices.

“That’s the administrative center for the country,” Lexi said, pointing at a nearby sign. “Looks like it was just built.”

“Looks like it,” I agreed.

There were several nearby markets and a few local food trucks. Most sold seafood with various types of breads and sodas. I needed coffee and some water, so when I spotted a small café, I suggested to Lexi we sit outside, relax, and sample some of the offerings while people watching.

We stood in line, and I ordered a coffee—long, black, and in the local parlance, while Lexi got a latte. I also bought a serving of poke, a traditional Cook Islands recipe of cooked bananas, milk, arrowroot, and baked sugar, served in a thick coconut cream.

We found a seat outside, and while we shared the poke, I studied the gleaming modern structure diagonally from the café. It looked oddly out of place amid the backdrop of island architecture. To the right of the door were some Chinese characters, probably identifying the purpose of the place.

“Well, that’s an eyesore,” Lexi observed, following my gaze. “What is it?”

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