“Chloe?”

Who was that talking to me? I tried to open my eyes but they were so heavy. “Mmm,” was all I could manage.

“Chloe? Honey, how are you feeling?”

The word honey got my attention and my eyelids popped up to find Eduardo staring down at me, concern written across his face.

Eduardo, my husband. It all started coming back to me . . . I’d come home. Correction: We’d come home the night before after our wedding, and I promptly fell asleep. Not exactly the wedding night I anticipated, and probably not the one Eduardo had planned either.

“I’m sorry. About last night . . .”

“That’s all right. You had a fever.” He placed his hand on my forehead, and his cool skin felt good.

“You feel hot still,” he said. “I don’t have a thermometer around here but I’m not sure you’re in any condition to be going to Hawaii right now.”

“Oh, you silly, I’m going to be fine. I just need some acetaminophen or something. Then I’ll be good to go.”

Actually, I felt like warmed over dog crap, but I was not about to ruin our honeymoon. I already felt like I owed him so much, the last thing I wanted to do was screw everything else up for him.

No, I needed to go suck it up and get with the program. We were going to have a great time. I’d never been to Hawaii, but I’d always wanted to go so when Eduardo mentioned the islands as a possible destination, I jumped at the chance.

Eduardo went to the bathroom and came back with a glass of water and two red and blue pills. I swallowed them down.

“Hey, I really am sorry about last night.”

He stroked my hair. “Don’t give it another thought. Let’s just focus on helping you feel better and getting out of here on time to make our flight. How do you feel about eggs?”

I only had the energy to give them a thumbs up, but it worked because he went into the kitchen and made us a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast with some sliced banana on the side.

I showered under cool water hoping it would take some of the heat out of my skin and cool me off a little. As I dressed, the main thing I kept thinking was sleeping during the nine or ten-hour flight.

We got to the airport and boarded the plane without incident. Eduardo and I were seated next to each other in business class. According to the flight attendant, we’d made it to cruising altitude, and just when I thought things were getting better, I was forced to reach for the motion sickness bag in the seat pocket in front of me, and promptly vomited my breakfast into it.

Normally I would have been mortified, but I felt too bad to care.

Eduardo rubbed my back when I needed it and let me collapse on his shoulder for most of the interminable flight.

A couple of times I opened my eyes to see him watching a movie but I didn’t have any earbuds so I couldn’t hear it. Something with Will Smith.

When we finally landed, I sat shaking on a bench while Eduardo gathered our luggage. I thought we were never going to get our bags, but he finally showed up with a cart and our bags. Instead of waiting for a shuttle to the hotel, he hired a car so I wouldn’t have to stand and wait any more.

I don’t even remember checking in at the hotel. The only thing I recall was collapsing on the cool, white bed linens and sleeping the sleep of the dead.

When I finally woke up, I wasn’t sure if it was the next day or if I’d slept longer than that. It sure felt like I had.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Eduardo said.

I squinted, trying to focus on him across the room. He sat at a table, flipping through a magazine, and I wondered how long he’d been fending for himself.

“The hotel gave us this nice fruit basket as a welcome gift. Are you hungry? I can get you some pineapple or papaya, grapes, oranges—whatever you want, and if you’re hungry, we can order room service but in the meantime just to keep your blood sugar up . . .”

As if on cue my stomach growled and I felt the corners of my mouth curl up. “Some pineapple sounds good.”

While I scarfed down the pineapple, Eduardo filled me in on what I had missed.

Apparently, we had been there for a day and a half already, and I had basically slept the whole time.

“Have you been here with me the whole time?”

“Most of the time, but I did go explore the hotel after a while. I got a little stir crazy after the first day, and I wanted to check everything out so that when you’re feeling better, I’d know the lay of the land.”

I shook my head. “I am so sorry Eduardo. This has to be the worst honeymoon in history. I’m the worst wife so far.”

“Well, you are a pretty important part of this honeymoon. I can’t really do it by myself, but I don’t mind waiting for you to feel better. In fact, how are you feeling right now? Do you need any medicine?”

I shook my head. But he kept going.

“I checked and they have a doctor on staff. You can either go to his office if it’s more serious or we can just call and consult with him over the phone if that would work.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I’m going to need a doctor. I’m feeling much better. In fact, I’m kind of starving. Even after that fruit.”

I watched the relief wash over his face, and it struck me that this man who was now my husband had been really worried about me. It had been so long since I had somebody to care about me, much less to take care of me when I was sick the way he had. He was actually very sweet, and it touched me in a place deep inside that I’d forgotten was there.

That afternoon we began to explore the resort. We ate a big lunch in the outdoor restaurant and took a walk on the beach.

“The beaches are nicer than I imagined,” Eduardo said, threading his fingers through mine as we walked along the shore, the waves crashing lapping gently at the water’s edge.

I giggled. “I love feeling the sand between my toes. Don’t tell the Californians, but I like this beach better.”

That night we went to a luau and ate another big meal. This time we had a rum cocktail to go with it. On our way back to the room he asked me, “Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Never better.” It was true. Whatever illness I’d had, it must have been one of those twenty-four hour viruses or maybe forty-eight-hours in my case, but I could barely tell that I’d been sick.

I had a feeling I knew why he was asking. We couldn’t put off “the wedding night” forever. Soon it would be time to consummate our marriage.

Originally, I had prepared myself for the wedding night. I reminded myself that my new husband was a terribly attractive man, that he desired me, I desired him, and my body would take care of the rest.

I even recalled that when I gave him that lap dance that time at Lulu’s, I’d gotten a little turned on myself. This sex thing ought to be a snap, so why was I so nervous now?

Putting it off had only made it loom larger and had probably increased his anticipation. If I was honest, I was little afraid I might disappoint him.

His lust for me was the main reason we were here, the main reason he married me. He’d pretty much admitted that.

He inserted the key into the door to our room then pulled it out and suddenly that seemed like the most sexually suggestive move he could’ve made. Pushing the key in and out. In and out.

What was wrong with me? The poor man was simply opening the door. He wasn’t being rape-y or anything.

Always the gentlemen, he held the door open for me. We stepped inside, the door closed behind him and he asked, “Would you like a drink?”

I didn’t trust myself to speak so I just shook my head.

Unable to stand the tension in the air between us a moment longer I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew his mouth to mine. And I opened up for him, letting him explore me with his tongue. His kiss was so intense that I felt dizzy and stumbled, but he caught me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, studying me, his arm around my waist.

“More than okay.” Then I turned, giving him my back and placing his hand on the top of my zipper. “Go ahead. Unzip me.”

As he unzipped me, the cool air from the air conditioning hit my skin and I felt a shiver that was more than just the breeze. Shrugging my shoulders I let my dress slide down my body to the floor, and I stepped out of my sandals. Still wearing my skimpy panties, I took a few steps towards the bed.

“Take off those too.” His voice was husky. In one quick movement I wriggled my panties down to my ankles and stepped out of them. I stared at the floor, feeling uncharacteristically modest.

“Look at me,” he said firmly.

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry, and I wished I’d said yes to that drink, but I raised my eyes to his.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You are too,” I said, meaning it. “You’ve been so patient with me. I just hope I’m worth all this.”

He had already started to unbutton his shirt, opening the neck to reveal bulging pectoral muscles and beneath that an abdomen with as many ripples as I’d ever seen.

“Oh, you’re worth it, Chloe. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”