I stay quiet. I’m grateful that he’s telling me. It’s hard to hear, but I’m glad he’s letting me in.
“I’m not going to say that I’m sorry, because I can’t really empathize with something I haven’t ever experienced—something I can’t even imagine happening to the people I love the most. So I’m not going to say that it will get better, because you already know it will. I’m just going to say that it’s okay to be sad, because your grief matters. You taught me that. I don’t want you to berate yourself forever for something that was completely and totally out of your control.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “I’m learning. Slowly, I’m learning.”
“Good,” I say quietly. He squeezes my hand and looks away. He doesn’t let go; instead he adjusts himself so that his hand is lying in my lap comfortably. I take a deep breath, and I’m suddenly overcome with courage. “I liked your costume, by the way,” I whisper, and I see him smile slyly as he looks out the window.
“I thought you would.”
We remain quiet for the rest of the flight, though his answer shocks me because now there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows I was at the Halloween party. And that means he must know I kissed him.
And that means… he kissed me back. Knowingly.
I know that fact shouldn’t make me feel this happy, but it does. It makes me feel exuberant. Joyful. Optimistic.
I realize now what my mother meant, how it might be easy to fall for Nick, given our predicament. Because falling for someone isn’t all about the fireworks, the explosion, and the chemistry. Sometimes it happens softly, slowly, and it’s the last thing you expected.
Neither of us say anything else the rest of the flight, but we continue to hold hands the whole time. I manage to fall asleep eventually.
I wake up to the landing announcement, and Bria bounces in her seat as we land in Cancun.
The sky is pink—the sunrise has begun, and I can’t help but think that this will be the trip of a lifetime.
“Welcome to Mexico,” the pilot says. “We hope you enjoy your stay.”
I look at Nick, and he just smiles sleepily.
Oh, I think I’ll enjoy it just fine.
Thirtytwo.
Evianna
We’re all pretty tired after landing, so we don’t say much as the shuttle takes us from Cancun to our resort in Tulum, about a two-hour drive away. I throw on my sunglasses and cuddle up with Bria in the backseat as Nick dozes up front. I want to soak it all up, but right now I’m exhausted and extremely hot. The air-conditioning is on, but the whole Riviera Maya in Mexico is experiencing what the locals like to call “hurricane weather”—meaning it’s hot and awfully muggy. Coming from Seattle, where the weather is damp and cool, the warm weather here automatically lulls us into a light sleep as we drive along the coastline.
Once we arrive, though, I have to pinch myself, because it feels like paradise. It is paradise. The shuttle drops us at a small building on the water, and there’s nothing else around. Nick mentioned that he booked this resort because it’s away from all the other resorts, and he wasn’t kidding. The small, wooden building is the only thing visible in all directions. As the driver helps us with our luggage, I carry Bria into the lobby while Nick checks us in.
We take a small golf cart through the forest, making our way through on a small dirt pathway. Nick says we get to keep the golf cart in case we don’t want to walk back to the lobby and restaurant—a whole two miles away. Bria continues to sleep as I take everything in. This may be the prettiest place I’ve ever visited.