At one end of the crowded market were a small group of people, giving a show of live music and dancing. This, of course, captured my attention and I found myself captivated, studying their techniques and counts. I sat there for a while, very entertained and reprieved with peace.
I rested my feet, admired the energy, and let my mind run free with random thoughts, and those not so indiscriminate. I thought of Michelle and how much she’d enjoy this, even more than I am. She’d enjoy the carefree atmosphere this place provided. That was Michelle, a natural free spirit. I think I was the only thing in her life that keep her attached to a reality that wasn’t agreeable to her free-styling nature. Guilt swept over me and once I again I was hit with the unpleasant revelation of being a burden to her. “I’m improving, Shelly. I’m going to make it worth your investment in me,” I whispered to myself, hoping that she’d catch the power in my decree wherever her free-flowing spirit rested. Suddenly, I regret not inviting Azmir. I would so love for him to share this explorative moment with me.
As I am taking in all the retailers and merchandise, I get a ping, alerting me of a text message. I look to find Azmir informing me of dinner reservations in an hour. I wasn’t aware of dinner plans so I scurried along in the tent before heading back to the bungalow.
When I arrive, I see Azmir swimming in the waters below the house. He really looks like quite the athlete. His arms extend out like fins, motioning the water for movement. His back stays perfectly aligned as it flows over and into the water. It makes me wonder if that’s what he looks like when he’s over me, making love. Wait! Does he make love to me? He did say we’re two people who are living together, fucking monogamously. A pain struck my heart at the thought. Is that how he really termed it? Perhaps Harrison was right. Out of nowhere, I feel tears prickling down my face. I jump at the realization and fly upstairs to the bathroom, not wanting to be seen by Azmir in this state. I felt then that I had to tell him how I felt.
As I’m in the shower I ask myself, What exactly can I tell him? That I want to breakup? I mean, breaking up is for people who are in bona fide relationships, not those who are just “fucking.” More tears. What would my life be like without Azmir? Exactly as it was before him: dull and uneventful. I could not care less about his money. His attention, thoughtfulness, and artful lovemaking was far more valued by my heart. He made me feel kept far beyond what his money can do. As I wept, I said a silent prayer, asking God for strength and to cease my wrestled mind. I knew in my heart that whatever the outcome of this thing with Azmir was, I’d survive it.
I heard Azmir outside in the bedroom, fumbling around and decided to finish up in the shower and fight to suppress my tears.
We had dinner that night on the beach, underneath the setting sun. The view was breathtaking as Azmir held my hand, walking me down to our secluded gazebo on the sand. We walked to a private table under a tent made with white sheer curtains tied to every spoke. There were about twelve in all. It was very exclusive. I noticed the other patrons were yards away with just umbrellas covering their tables. Under our hut, the table was set for two with a white linen table cloth and chair covers.
Azmir walks me over to my seat then takes his next to me. I’m taken and don’t try to hide it as I look over to him. He gives nothing away as he observes me as well. Two men come over to us almost immediately. One is dressed in wait-staff attire and the other in a suit.
“Mr. Jacobs, I’m glad to see you and Ms. Brimm have finally arrived. I am Aata, your host for tonight. And your waiter will be Ihu, here,” he points to the waiter who nods politely. “We’re going to start you off with drinks and your hors’ d’oeuvres will be out momentarily,” Aata informs before turning on his heels as Ihu remains and pours champagne in our flutes.
When the waiter leaves Azmir turns to me, “So, how was your massage, Rayna.”