Page 11 of The Holiday Honeymoon Switch
The thing was, Hollyhadimagined how it was going to feel. And she knew he wasn’t wrong—she just thought this was what marriage was. You found someone you either loved or liked enough to marry, someone who ticked all the boxes and made your family happy—which was important, wasn’t it, a route to less conflict, more harmony, an easier, happier life?—and you married that person. You braided your lives together. Maybe it wasn’t as dramatic as they made it look in the movies or as sexy and exciting as it was in romance novels, but that wasn’t real life. Desperately passionate, kissing in the rain, needing the person as much as youneeded oxygen…that wasn’t real, and if it was, it wasn’t sustainable.
And no, Holly had never felt that way with anyone. Not even Matt. But standing in front of Matt the night before as he broke things off, while festive flakes of snow fell between them, all those thoughts had simply piled themselves up on top of one another in her head and she had been unable to articulate any of them.
“Do you really want to go your entire life never feeling passion? I don’t. We can’t do this, Holly. We have to call off the wedding.” He held out his empty hands, as if this proved something to her. “Can you say something? Please?”
“Okay,” she’d said, morphing into the emotionless automaton she was when she woke up this morning.
“Holly? Are you still there?”
“Mom, he said he doesn’t want to marry me. He said there’s someone else he’s in love with.”
“What?! His parents are going to be livid. They are not going to stand for this—”
“He’s not a toddler who’s been bad. We’re not kids. We’re adults.”
“You’re not acting like adults! You can’t just cancel a wedding on a whim, without even making an attempt at reconciliation!”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to attempt to reconcile with a person who said he’s having an emotionalaffair with someone he met at work, he thinks he loves her, and he doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Oh, please. Workplace romances are a fact of life. At least he’s being honest. And it’s not just the wedding, it’s the honeymoon! That beautiful trip to Kauai your dad and I bought you two as your wedding gift—I never imagined you’d be canceling, so I didn’t get insurance.” This was very typical Barbara, to spend tens of thousands of dollars on a trip but then balk at the cancellation insurance.
“I’m sorry that money got wasted. I’m sorry it’sallsuch a waste. Ivy is making calls, and she said you would, too. People need to be notified. That’s all we can do right now. I have to go.”
Despite her mother’s protests, Holly hangs up. She turns her phone off again and walks back into the living room. Ivy is standing by the window now, still talking to her own mom. She hasn’t heard Holly come in.
“She seems okay. But…she hasn’t cried yet. I’m worried. It’s like shecan’t. Like it’s all bottled up inside. She’s flat out refusing to come with me to the Hudson Valley, but she doesn’t want me to stay here with her, either. No matter what she says, there’s no way I’m going anywhere. I’ll tell her. I know. You love her, too.”
Ivy is standing in front of one of Holly’s favorites of all the art pieces Ivy has made. She sketched it their senior year, during a spring break trip to Aruba. It’s of Eagle Beach andis the perfect depiction of the calm, clear water, in varying shades of turquoise and blue, and the shell-pale sand Holly remembers well. The beach is dotted with palapas and sunbathing tourists on towels; the water is studded with windsurfers, paddleboards, Jet Skis. It has the vibe of a Gray Malin photograph. Holly has one from the same trip, a gift from Ivy that hangs in pride of place over her couch. Guests always ask about the artist who created it, and Holly proudly tells them it’s her best friend, who is so talented she can blend her pastels into the exact color of the ocean. It’s her best work. Ocean- and beachscapes always have been.
“I can still get a refund, yes, tell Dad not to worry. Maybe I’ll rebook for later in the winter—honestly, it’s the least of my concerns, though. Yes, Hudson Valley. You’re right, spring could be better. More color in the water.”
Holly has an idea. As she continues to listen to her friend talk, it takes shape in her mind. A tiny town in the Hudson Valley, a remote cabin beside a frozen river…suddenly, Holly can think of nowhere that would better reflect her current mood. She’s grateful for everything Ivy wants to do for her, but right now, all she feels is numb. She needs to thaw, by herself. She needs to be alone. She can pack cozy clothes and extra blankets, books, fill her laptop with downloads of all the shows she’s missed out on binge-watching during this busy year of wedding planning. She can make a list of movies that are sure to make her bawl her eyes out,and she can do so in private. Perhaps it’s not healthy to want to nurse a broken heart in solitude, but it’s what she feels she needs—and she should follow her instincts, shouldn’t she? Ivy always tells her this. Holly will go to the eco-cabin in the Hudson Valley—and Ivy can go on her honeymoon and spend two weeks getting the color of the Hawaiian ocean just right.
Ivy ends her phone call and turns. “Hey! My mom says hi and sends the biggest hug.”
“Your mom gives the best hugs. Listen, I just had an idea.”
They face each other on the couch, and Holly does her very best to explain her logic about the trip swap, but Ivy is still resistant. “Having me enjoying what was supposed to be your honeymoon will just make everything worse, Iknowit.”
“I don’t agree. Knowing something good is coming out of this, that you’re there in Hawaii, making your beautiful oceanscapes—which you’re amazing at—would help me feel a little better, I think.”
“But I can’t leave you.”
“What if I want you to? What if Ineedyou to? Getting away for two weeks to just hide and process and figure out what’s next, it’s what I feel I need. We’ve been best friends for years—and we always trust each other, right? Soyouneed to trustmeto know what I need.”
“Wow. Sometimes I forget what a great lawyer you are.”
Holly shrugs. “It’s easy to argue something you believein.” She’s getting somewhere, she can tell. Ivy still looks hesitant, but her expression is softening.
“I just can’t help but think you need a friend with you right now.”
“You’re not going to disappear on me. If I need you, I’ll text, or I’ll call. I promise.”
“The trip isn’t transferable, though. How can I go in your place?”
Holly has thought of this, too. “We look so much alike. You can use my ID.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a felony.”
