“I’m sure you and Jared will find something entertaining to do. There’s snorkeling, fishing, and so on. Take care not to burn,” she said, returning to her book.
I took that as my cue to let her be. I strolled back to my cabin and decided to continue my walk, following a trail that led me to the beach in minutes. I gasped at the sight of it. The fishing boats on the horizon, the clear water and the Technicolor clouds were beginning to glow blues and yellows from the descending sun; it all would have been the perfect shot for a postcard.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” Jared said from behind me, folding his arms around my waist.
I leaned my head against his chest and stared out onto the ocean. “I think it’s the company more than anything,” I said, relaxing into his arms.
He pressed his lips against the bare skin of my shoulder and I smiled at the warmth left behind. “You are absolutely beautiful.”
I turned around and slipped my arms under his and tightened them around his middle. He was still in his crisp white shirt and jeans, but his sleeves were rolled up and he had changed into a pair of casual sandals.
“Why didn’t you correct the driver when he called me your wife?”
He grinned. “I guess I just liked the sound of it so much I couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Did it offend you?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. I’ve always liked to pretend on vacation.”
Jared raised one eyebrow, amused. “Are you royalty this time or an award winning actress?”
“Neither,” I laughed. “Apparently this trip I’m Mrs. Jared Ryel.” The words rolled off my tongue like I had spoken a beautiful foreign language. It felt strange to say the words together, yet it was familiar somehow.
Jared’s eyes brightened. “Well…pretend if you like. There’s only so much longer you can do that.”
I frowned. “Don’t remind me. Only five days left and we haven’t even started, yet.”
“I didn’t mean for the remainder of our trip, sweetheart. You can’t pretend to be Mrs. Jared Ryel when you are Mrs. Jared Ryel.”
“Oh,” I said, processing his last sentence.
He looked down at me with the softness in his eyes that he reserved only for our sweetest moments. I took in a deep breath and let a broad grin spread across my face. As talented as I had become over the years at false impersonation during vacations, I couldn’t pretend not to be overwhelmingly besotted by his sentiment.
“What do you say we walk down to the village?” Jared suggested. Sliding his hands down my arms, he took a few steps backward and pulled me along with him.
“I say yes,” I chirped, still high from the euphoria I had felt just moments before.
At a leisurely pace, Jared and I walked hand in hand down a dirt road—it wasn’t even a road, really, more like a double path that had been worn by bicycles, scooters, and the occasional vehicle.
We approached a fork in the path that bore a sign directing us to the nearby village.
It wasn’t long before the small huts and aluminum buildings of the village came into view. There were clusters of locals at each one conversing and watching us walk past. Some were smiling at us and some were eyeing us indifferently before returning to their various conversations.
I didn’t see a single tourist shop, although there were craftsmen selling various items.
We entered a hut that appeared to be a combined blacksmith and jewelry stand. Jared watched me look over the rings, necklaces and ear rings, some with shells, some with gems, although roughly cut and not one of them held with prongs or soldered. One ring in particular caught my eye. The band was silver, and at first glance there seemed to be tiny shells fastened to it in decoration, but when I looked more closely, I could see the two dozen or so miniscule gems appeared to be rough, uncut diamonds fastened to the ring with a tiny wire.
“You like that one?” Jared asked.
“It’s very unique,” I said, still staring at the indentations of the band.
The man held it closer for me to see. “This is real silver,” he boasted proudly. “We hammer it…see here?” He pointed to the indentions in the band. “Polished by hand and hardened in the tumbler. The diamonds are hand-fastened with the wire. Ten gauge wire, see…?” He made a show of rotating the ring to show how secure the diamonds were. “Made right here,” he beamed. “Very beautiful. You try on?”
Jared smiled patiently to the vendor and held out his hand. The man placed the ring into Jared’s palm and he lifted my hand, sliding it on my left ring finger.
“It’s a little big, but it fits,” he approved, looking up at me from under his brow.