Page 77 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“Me too,” I agreed.
“It’s just nice to sit here and let the silence put things into perspective, y’know?”
I nodded. I ran my hand across Julia’s chest, slipping inside the open expanse of her robe and stroking the smooth skin along her chest bone.
“I wish this didn’t have to end.” I touched a kiss to her forehead.
“It doesn’t have too.” Julia looked up atme with hope in her eyes.
But it did. I had been living in a dreamlike state for the past forty-eight hours. I didn’t know how to return to reality, but reality was always there lurking in the background, waiting to creep up and pull the rug from underneath me. It was always going to end. The distance was impossible to endure. I hoped above all else I would find the strength to accept what I could not change. When the time came, I would be able to smile and wave as she left the resort to return to her life 3400 miles away from mine.
Life sucked.
“I think we both know it does.” I sighed. The whole situation felt like such a surreal experience. I wanted to enjoy the time we had left, but as the ticking clock of disappointment edged closer, I found myself in the early stages of fight or flight; I had to protect my heart.
I pressed my tongue to Julia’s lower lip; she opened her mouth to allow the warmth of her tongue to mix with mine. Her hand tangled with my hair; the other clawed at my waist to manoeuvre my body until I found myself straddling her. I pulled at the centre of her robe until the whole of her torso was exposed.
“God, you’re so sexy.”
She untied the knot in my robe, seductively perusing my body from top to bottom. Unlike her, I had no underwear on; Julia’s eyes lit up.
“Ditto.”
We spent the next hour having sex on the balcony with only the slow rising sun as a spectator. I failed to recognise the amber glow as the sun etched its way up. I was too caught up in our joint effort to make each other orgasm—whilst remaining quiet—the sunrise was no longer the most beautiful sight.
I remembered a recent podcast on the topic of love and beauty. It discussed how the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, instead, they must be felt. I had always assumed visiting beautiful cities, seeing world renowned landmarks, or sunbathing beside the most crystal blue sea, was the definition of beauty. Sunrises and sunsets were supposed to be amongst the prettiest things in the world to experience, but there I was blissfully ignorant to my surroundings because I’d found something more.
Suddenly, it made sense.
Beauty was laughter. Beauty was companionship. Beauty was Julia. Beauty was love. In that moment I recognised the value of what we had. Julia had already left an imprint on my soul and the awareness I would be better for it... no matter the outcome.
13
The problem with large resorts—too many pools. Was it necessary to have eight swimming pools? It didn’t bode well for anyone remotely indecisive. I spent twenty minutes that morning deciding what colour bikini to wear and fifteen more deciding what colour flip-flops best suited that bikini. Now I was expected to choose from eight pools, all with different pros and cons. I would require a notepad, highlighters, colour coordinated sticky notes, and a quiet space with a good vantage point to observe all pools in order to make such a decision.
In the end, I left the choice of pool up to Sarah.
“Oh my God! Look!” Sarah jumped backwards.
I dropped my drink, which I’d discovered wasn’t heavy on the alcohol verses soda mix—a mango mojito.
“Shit! What?” I squealed.
I watched the drink dribble down my sand covered legs, just when I thought my body couldn’t get any more disgusting. We’d chosen the pool with a man-made beach, and I regretted allowing Sarah to choose.
“Look—” Sarah edged towards the bush. In between the large green leaves—I think it was a Swiss cheese plant, but I couldn’t be sure. There was a rough spiny tail poking out from beneath its sheltered position.
“Is that a lizard?” I said excitedly. I almost forgot all about the sticky mango and sand combination forming an undesirable substance on my sunburnt skin.
“It’s a big ass lizard is what it is,” Sarah replied.
“That would be an iguana. They’re native to hot and dry areas like Mexico,” Billie chipped in.
“He’s cute.” I carefully moved the giant leaf to get a better look.
“A reptile the size of my arm is not cute,” Sarah disagreed. She took one large step back towards the sunbeds.
“I think I might call him Frank.” I proceeded to make thetut tut tutnoise I made at Lady whenever I wanted her to come inside. Yes, it was a cat noise, and the giant reptile was probably big enough to eat a cat, but I figured it was better than the number of farm animal callings I could’ve used.
