Page 46 of Date and Switch

“Hey.” I ran my fingers through that scruff, loving how is scraped against my nails. “My grandma used to say that the only thing looking back does is give you whiplash. Maybe it’s time to make peace with it. Be grateful the break happened before you got married and it became much messier.”

He nodded, though I could still see the storm in his eyes.

“Find the lesson, and let it go with gratitude. You don’t have to hate her, you don’t have to feel pity, or any other emotion. But you have to forgive yourself for being weighed down by the guilt of your breakup.”

twenty-nine

I’d checked every source I had, no one was reporting anything on what was happening in the Far East and eastern pacific. There was so much gossip on the ship it was impossible to tell what was truth, and what was supposition. People suggested everything from widespread illness to potential terrorism. Regardless the crew acted as if nothing was out of sorts.

Sera and Felicity talked every day at seven in the morning, New York Time. Since the cruise line set a rapid course to Europe we had no idea how quickly we crossed time zones, so she brought her iPad with her everywhere we went. Her brother, Rex, stepped up and protected Felicity as best he could, including moving her into his condo. He, according to Sera, mediated all conversations between her and her ex-boyfriend.

Our days had fallen into a pretty predictable pattern of sex, breakfast, some pool time, sex again, playing silly games on the main-stage, reading, an afternoon nap sometimes followed by more sex, and generally spending time with all of the new friends Sera made during our three months on the ship. A group which grew exponentially over our at sea days.

A week later we finally docked in Venice. The truncated itinerary meant we lost a lot of places Sera and I had been really excited to see. We had an overnight before moving on to Rome, and I had surprises planned for her in both locations. The lack of information was frustrating. Each night our itinerary shifted and changed, based on the non-committal information coming from the cruise ships corporate offices. There wasn’t much information coming from the states either. We’d connected with Penn, Bear and Raven, and Sera’s sister asking if there’d been any news about cruise ships like ours. It was hard to try to get information without raising any kinds of flags to cause suspicions.

“A couple of weeks of nearly perfect sexual bliss and now you’re picking out my panties for me?”

Sera waltzed into the bedroom from her shower, her hair held up in a towel, and her body wrapped in her robe.

“First,” I pulled her into a kiss, loving the way her body lost its fight the moment she came in contact with mine, “these are some of my favorite pieces that Naomi acquired. I think Fleur du Mal has skyrocketed to the top of my one-click list. The delicate flower details hide just enough of your cock stiffening rack to make me desperate to unwrap you but is similarly too beautiful to not stop and enjoy the tantalizing picture you make while wearing it.”

“You sure do know how to romance a girl.” Sera smiled into my kiss, before collecting the panties and sashaying towards her closet to survey her dresses.

“Oh, that is picked out for you as well and is hanging in the living room.”

The lingerie in her hand had a delicate rainbow of embroidered flowers against nude satin, which would work perfectly beneath the bronze, floor length gown. The bronze color I knew would highlight her hair and make it look as if it were on fire—like a roman goddess—while we sat in a private box at the opera.

thirty

“It was between La Traviatta and Don Carlos.”

My exceedingly debonair date extended his hand to me in assistance up the very steep steps of the Teatro La Fenice. It was one of the oldest opera houses in the world. Named after the Phoenix because it had burned to the ground on two separate occasions and was restored to its original glory. For a performance opera major, visiting La Fenice was the equivalent of a missionary arriving at Mecca. I wanted to stop and look everywhere, at everything. Despite the throngs of well-heeled theater goers crushing between one another to get to their various seats, I needed to take it all in –every minute detail as I knew it may be the only time I’d ever have to see it.

“I figured La Traviatta better suited –well me—because as much as I love you, I don’t love the opera enough to be stranded for five hours in a box. Especially since these boxes don’t allow for enough privacy to fulfill what I’d hoped to be able to do once the lights went down.”

He waggled his eyebrows at me with a wink, apparently totally oblivious to the words he’d just spoken to me. He loved me. I told my stupid stuttering pulse and the giddy celebration in my blood stream to slow their damn roll because more than likely he meant it in the same way I loved ice cream, unicorns, and glitter.

“You could have told me that the Venice High School band would be showcasing the talents of their French horn section and I would have been out of my skin giddy.”

He had yet to let go of my hand, not protesting once as we traipsed from one end of the theater to the other to inspect every speck of wallpaper, sconce, and fabric in the space.

“We should probably get to our seats. They’re on the main floor and from what I saw online the view of the ceilings is probably something you want to spend some time looking at before the lights go down.”

I don’t think I took a breath from curtain up to curtain down. The immense talent of the company notwithstanding, I felt reinvigorated at a nuclear level to the sweeping expanse of that production. Even Bryce, for all his griping about the length of operas, kept his arm around my waist, and his hand tucked between my thighs through the entirety of the show. True to his word, he remained PG-13, given we shared the box with four other couples, and in clear view of most of the actors on stage.

“I don’t think I even know the right words to thank you for something this fantastic.” I smiled up at him while we waited for the theater to begin clearing. “Have we even done a single thing that was just for you?”

We’d hiked—like a thousand miles—sure but the whole trip I’d yet to hear him say anything like “Sera, I literally can’t wait to visit insert city because I’m totally nerding out about random interest I know nothing about.”

“You froze your ass off with me in Antarctica.” He smiled, guiding me out of the box with his hand on my back, smiling his goodbyes to those we’d shared the space with. “We hiked Machu Pichu, checked out Easter Island, we visited every mountain top available to us in Chile, I promise I have had the time of my life on this trip. With the exception of going golfing with Penn—but you already know my stance on golf.”

“But, enjoying things that are part of the vacation, and going out of our way to do something you want to do are two completely separate things. Isn’t there anything that you’re like “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Unfortunately, some of that we bypassed. I’d really wanted to walk the Great Wall of China, and I couldn’t wait to check out the Seikan Undersea Tunnel in Japan.”

“Undersea as in built under the ocean?”

“That is typically what undersea implies.” He laughed handing me a glass of champagne we’d ordered at the bar across from the theater. “To this most amazing adventure.”

---