Page 51 of The All-Inclusive

But it wasn’t. That’s evident now. Maybe I’ve always known on some level.

The thought sends me spinning, reeling back toward the door. I push through his living room, toppling a tall pile of papers on a table. I don’t even stop to pick them up.

Throwing open the door, I sprint down the stairs, racing toward God knows where. I don’t stop running until I hit the beach.

When my feet hit the sand, I drop to my ass and cover my face with my hands.

Now what?

What the fuck do I do?

Somebody tell me, for God’s sake.

A nightbird squawks from a palm tree nearby, a sound that’s a whole lot like laughter.

“Fuck off,” I mutter, annoyed with the bird, with the breeze that keeps whipping my t-shirt around.

With my own stupid heart most of all.

CHAPTER 11

SARA

“Oh my God.”

Camille crowds Eve in the frame of my iPad, her jaw hinging open in shock.

It takes a lot to stun my sex therapist friend and our equally adventurous pal who’s banging said friend’s older brother. I’ve been bringing them both up to speed on my last several days of adventure.

“You go, girl.” Eve’s shaking her head but beaming like a proud mama bear whose cub just discovered a honey pot. “So Trent’s staying there?”

“For now.” I take a sip of my piña colada. The virgin variety, since it’s not even noon as I bask in a quiet corner of the pool deck. “Trent felt guilty for crashing the resort, so he told Ash he’d teach S.C.U.B.A. lessons for free.”

Camille quirks an eyebrow. “You mean the ‘Suck on my Snorkel’ S.C.U.B.A. enchantment or whatever they call it in the app?”

Eve snickers beside her. “They don’t call it that anymore. We rebranded it to something else in the menu.”

“Trent isn’t sleeping with anyone.” A wave of heat rushes my cheeks. “No one but me, I mean.”

“Wow, wow,wow.” Eve pretends to applaud. “I still can’t believe it. Our little Sara’s all grown up.”

Pride blooms in my chest, along with a smidgeon of guilt. My mother called this morning, urging me to consider a simple church ceremony with Trent. Shame sloshed in my belly as I held the phone tight to my ear.

“I’ve been talking with his mother,” my mom informed me. “We agree it’s understandable Trent got cold feet. His father’s hasn’t been the best role model as a husband so naturally?—”

“Mom.” I didn’t want to discuss it with her.

But Mom kept on talking. “The important thing isn’t the wedding itself. It’s that you get married so you can properly be husband and wife. Building a home and a family together is the only thing that truly matters.”

I tried not to give her false hope, but the truth?

I’m clinging to hope of my own.

“I think we both need some time,” I told my mom carefully. “We’re taking a step back right now and?—”

“Oh, Sara.” My mother sighed. “You know you can’t move to San Diego unless you’re married. Obviously, you wouldn’t live together outside wedlock, but even moving to the town where Trent is when you’re not man and wife—well, it’s just not right.”

It’s just not right.

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