TWENTY-FIVE

 

You’ll Know When You Know…and Other Horribly Stupid Advice

 

Libby

 

 

You know that feeling you get when you're on your last day of a vacation and you have to go home even though every cell in your body is screaming ‘never go back to that horrible place where responsibility is waiting,’ and it just sucks knowing there’s nothing you can do but finish packing and start the long, dull trip home where you’ll commence your usual soul-sucking routine that you used to think was pretty great until you discovered something so much better was out there?

Yeah, well, that would be about a million times better than what I'm feeling right now.

I may have shown up here thinking I was hurt, but I'm leaving here an absolute freaking mess. Whatever I felt for Harrison, I have to accept it was just a lie, even though it felt very real. I have to accept that I mean nothing to him and I never did, even though I wanted to matter to him more than I’ve ever wanted to matter to anyone.

How could someone so perfect, so amazing, turn out to be so disappointing? He’s the one who’s exactly like my mother. Not me.

The birds chirp outside my open patio doors, and it kind of feels like they’re mocking me as I sit on the edge of my bed with my engagement ring in the palm of my right hand, waiting for Richard to wake up. I’m already dressed even though the sun is barely up. I didn’t sleep at all after I found out the truth about Harrison. I just laid awake with silent tears streaming down my face until I my head was pounding.

Richard finally stirs. I watch as he sits up on the cot and stretches his back, obviously worse for wear after a night on the thin mattress. He knows my answer as soon as he looks into my eyes, because he just nods and says, “I figured as much when you called down for the cot. Is it that other guy?”

“No,” I say, and the funny thing is, it’s true. “Your gut was spot-on about us not being right for each other.”

“Huh. Chalk one up for male intuition,” he says with a small smile.

I smile back. “I wanted it so badly for so long. I always thought if I had you, I’d have it all — love, respectability, comfort. I thought it would mean I’d finally prove I’m not my mother.”

“I know,” he said. “We stopped being in love a long time ago and became more like nice companions.”

“Was it because I didn’t want to do the butt stuff?” I ask with a tiny grin.

He lets a short laugh escape his mouth. “No, but I kind of had a hint that our priorities were a bit off when you emailed me to say you found the perfect spot for our honeymoon and was sure I wouldn’t mind if it doubled up as a work trip.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Yeah, I can see how you’d take that as a sign.” Sighing, I just stare at him for a moment, knowing this is the last time I’ll see his rumpled morning hair and sleepy eyes. I feel a lump in my throat and swallow it down. “This is hard. We could’ve had a really nice, comfortable life together, and for a lot of people, that would be more than enough.”

“You’re right,” Richard says, taking my hand in his. “But it would never have been what either of us deserves.”

“Agreed,” I say, letting a few tears sneak by my defenses. “For the record, I didn’t actually go paddleboarding. I just used some camera trickery to set up a shot for my Instagram account.”

“You Photoshopped it?”

I laugh, slapping my forehead with one hand. “I wish! That would have been so much easier.”

Richard laughs, too, and it feels so good to end things like this, with neither of us hurting or angry. When he stops, he says, “I guess I should get a flight home.”

I shake my head. “I already booked you a flight for this morning. I figured once we talked, you’d want to get out of here.”

“I see. When are you coming back?”

“Tonight. I’m sticking with our original flight home. I have some loose ends to tie up here.”

He nods. “That’s probably for the best. If I’m around you too long, I might forget why we’re breaking up.”

I open my palm and hold the ring up to him, but he shakes his head and folds my palm closed again. “I want you to have it.”

“No,” I say. “You bought it. You should see if you can get some of your money back.”

“Libby, you’d actually be doing me a favour by keeping it,” he says. “I feel really guilty about letting you pay for most of the wedding that didn’t happen.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I answer.

He stands and pulls a T-shirt over his head. “You’re going to be pleasantly surprised when you find out what it’s worth.”

“Really?”

He nods and smiles. “Spend it wisely.”

“I will.”

And that’s how Richard and I came to our strangely perfect ending — with us hugging and crying as we let go of years together, because no matter how it ended or who decided to jilt whom ten minutes before the wedding, giving up someone you know inside and out and someone who cared for you for a long time is never easy. Even when it's right.

 

***

 

My face is red and puffy from crying, and even though it's hours later, I still have a few tears left in me as I toss my makeup kit onto my packed clothes. I’ve put my engagement ring back on for safe-keeping, except on the right hand instead of the left because my relationship status is no longer ‘engaged’ or even ‘it’s complicated,’ but ‘completely, utterly single.’

I move over to my desk, which I’ve saved for last. After I disconnect the printer and put it carefully in my other suitcase, I start on the papers.

Huh, that's weird. I could've sworn I printed off the fake report yesterday, but it's not here. I must not have, which just shows how completely mucked up my head has been since, oh, I don't know, I first laid eyes on Harrison. I can only hope when I get back home, I can sort out fact from fiction. Maybe I can even manage to find a job where I’ll use my analytical skills for good instead of evil. I tuck the report into a large yellow envelope and put it, along with my laptop, into my carry-on bag.

A few minutes later, I find myself standing in front of the building, waiting for a golf cart to pull up and take me to the lobby to check out. Glancing at my phone, I see I have three hours until my flight leaves, taking me back to a country where I have no home and no job.

I text Alice: Hey, you don’t happen to have a spare room I could squat in for a while, would you?

A moment later, my mobile dings. Oh, hon, I take it things didn’t work out with Mr. Perfect?

Me: Turns out he’s a much bigger prick than Richard.

Alice: He *has* a much bigger prick than Richard or he *is* one? I’m confused.

Me: Both.

Alice: Come home. The wine is chilling, and I’m all stocked up on Choco-Loco.

Me: A disgusting combination under normal circumstances, but at the moment, it sounds divine. See you sometime around lunch tomorrow.

I hear the hum of the golf cart before it turns the corner, and for a moment my heart jumps thinking it's Harrison, but when it comes around, I see Fidel's friendly face behind the wheel. I smile at him, hoping I can pretend everything's fine.

“Aww, Libby, don't tell me you're leaving already?” he says, getting out to load my bags into the back.

“Yes, I'm afraid the time has come.”

“Did you enjoy your honeymoon?” He gives me a little wink.

“Let's just say I hope I never go on another one.”

“That's too bad. That must mean we didn't take good enough care of you.” Climbing into the driver's seat, he starts up the cart.

I sit next to him, hoping to keep it together until I get on the shuttle bus. We wind around the building where Harrison played the Opossum Wrangler, and I sigh. We drive by the beach bar, and I wave to Lolita, who's looking surly as she serves something fruity to a table of four. Her mouth opens, and she looks like she’s about to call to me, but then she closes it and just waves back. We pass the pier where the catamaran is docked, and I find myself wishing with everything in me that I were standing on the top deck with him right now, heading out to sea instead of heading home. As we zip by the pool, I spot Butterfingers Girl folding towels. At least she’s happy.

When we get to the lobby, he hops out and hands my bags to a waiting porter. Turning to me, he says, “Come back any time. We'd all love to see you again, especially Harrison.”

I scoff a little. “I highly doubt that. I'm sure he'll be glad I’m gone.”

He pauses for a minute, looking completely confused, then shakes his head. “I don’t think so. It’s going to take him a long time to forget you.”

Before I can assure Fidel he’s wrong, his walkie-talkie on the golf cart pages him and he leans over to answer it. I quietly wave to him and slink my way into the lobby.

I check out, then, without thinking about it, I ask the receptionist if I can see Rosy for a minute.

She nods and points to the back. “She should be free right now.”

I knock on Rosy's door, finding her behind her desk with one pair of glasses on her nose and one on top of her head. I feel a pang, knowing I'm going to miss her.

She looks up at me and takes her glasses off, letting them dangle from the chain around her neck. “Libby, what can I do for you?”

“I just came to say goodbye.”

“I take it everything worked out with your fiancé, then?” she asks with a slightly disapproving expression.

I give her a confused look and am just about to ask how she knows Richard was here when she says, “I was behind the desk when he checked in yesterday.”

“I take it you missed it when he checked out this morning.”

Her face spreads into a wide grin. “Did you send him packing?”

“I did.”

Clapping her hands together, she says, “Good. That leaves everything wide open for you and Harrison.”

I shake my head. “No, there’s nothing open there at all. Super closed, in fact. Like the door has been padlocked and the key is at the bottom of Mariana’s Trench. That means it’s irretrievable unless you have one of those tiny subs that can withstand incredible pressure, which I don’t, so…”

Rosy gives me a strange look. “What are you talking about? For someone so good at analyzing everything she sees, you certainly are blind to what matters.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically.

“I’ve known that boy since he was eleven, and I can tell you he’s never once looked at any girl the way he looks at you.”

“Well, as it turns out, he’s an amazing actor, because he made it very clear to me last night this has been strictly business. It’s all good, though, because we’re not compatible at all, he and I,” I say, shaking my head. “Not at all.” Digging around in my briefcase, I pull out the yellow envelope. “Anyway, I have a little goodbye present for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a step-by-step guide for world domination in the resort industry.” I hand the envelope to her. “Just don't ever let anybody know I gave you that. If I ever want to get a job in mergers and acquisitions again, that report would pretty much ruin my chances. I’ve been making some wildly erratic and terrible choices lately, like sleeping with a potential client and quitting my job. Why am I rambling?” I ask with a little snort. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Come and sit down. You’re talking nonsense.” She gestures to a chair, but I shake my head.

“I really have to go, or I’ll miss my flight.”

“What happened, Libby?”

“I wish I knew.” I give her a sad smile, then say, “You take care, okay?”

With that, I walk out, blinking back tears.

 

***

 

I sit on the tiled bench in front of the lobby for about five minutes, waiting for the shuttle bus, when I hear, “Coward!”

Turning, I see Rosy rushing down the steps toward me with Emma following on her heels.

Rosy wags her finger at me. “You love him, and you’re just going to run off with your tail between your legs.”

The other people waiting shift away from me awkwardly.

“Rosy, I don’t—”

“Bullshit. I just read your report, and you know what I see on page one? Love. Page two? Love. Page three, four, five, six. Love, love, love, love. Page seven?”

“Love?” I ask sarcastically.

“No, that one was filled with a lot of boring financials, but the rest just say love all over them.”

“Rosy, the report is my very honest professional opinion of the resort, not of…” glancing around, I notice the other guests, along with Fidel and two of the porters, are now just openly staring. I lower my voice, “…anyone in particular. And even if I did have feelings for someone, he doesn’t feel the same way, so that’s that.”

Emma cuts in. “I’m pretty sure someone is totally stupid over you. He was listening to Bob Marley until three am.”

Rosy makes a tsking sound. “No Woman, No Cry?”

“Ummhmm.” Emma nods. “Over and over.”

“Poor darling,” Rosy says, shaking her head.

Emma sighs. “Then he took off this morning before I got up. He left this on the kitchen table.” She hands me a note.

 

Emma—

I’ll be gone for a few days. Just need a little time to figure out my next move.

Hold down the fort while I’m gone.

H

 

“This doesn’t prove anything,” I say, handing it back to her.

“Love doesn’t ask for proof,” Rosy says, folding her arms across her ample chest.

Rolling my eyes, I say, “What is this? A Hallmark movie? He literally told me I meant nothing to him and to leave.”

Emma looks at me, her eyes wild. “Yeah, but can you really blame him? He was just chasing you away because your idiot fiancé showed up and he thought you were getting back together with him. As soon as he shut the door on you, he said, 'Fuck love.'“

“You were there?”

She nods. “I was…napping on the couch,” she says, throwing a guilty glance in Rosy’s direction. “He was a wreck last night, so I was trying to make him feel better. He really didn’t want to talk though, he just sat there sipping bourbon and reading your report over and over.”

I freeze in place as her words smack me across the face. “What report?”

The shuttle bus pulls up, and the people around us move toward it. Fidel calls to me, “Libby, should I load your luggage?”

“Just a second,” I say, then turn to Emma. “What report?”

“The one that said Paradise Bay wasn’t a recommended purchase for GlobalLux. It was kind of harsh, actually. I had a look at it this morning, and I have to say, it was a little bit offensive.”

My mouth drops open and the breath leaves my lungs as my brain pieces together what’s happened. “Oh my God! This means I did print the report, which is kind of good because I thought I was losing my mind, but it’s also really awful because it means Harrison read it, and he was never supposed to see any of it. None of you were supposed to because it made the resort sound like a disaster so GlobalLux would back off and leave you alone. But it was all a bunch of lies and…” I slap my forehead. “…if Harrison saw it, he must think I think—”

“Libby? The bus needs to leave. On or off?” Fidel asks.

“Off,” I say firmly.