| |
KAYLA
Everything was happening too fast.
Ever since Dylan had talked me into clicking I do it was like my life was a whirlwind of preparation. I was due to leave the day after Dylan left for his big vacation. Since we had to close the amusement park for the next few weeks anyway for renovations, we figured now would be the best time for me to take my honeymoon, too.
My honeymoon.
If my mom found out, she would kill me. At least I could tell her I wasn’t married, which kind of made me feel dirty. I was going on this honeymoon with a man I hadn’t met and I wasn’t technically married to him either. If we agreed to pursue the relationship afterwards, then we were agreeing to be married. On the honeymoon, though, what would he expect from me? All of the connotations attached to the word honeymoon were more physical and intimate than I was ready to commit to at the point.
I didn’t know the guy! What was I doing? I constantly had to regulate my breathing, just stop what I was doing and breathe. Taking a shower? I had to lean my hands on the wall and hang my head while I caught my breath. Packing? Yeah, I sat on the bed and leaned forward, breathing with my elbows braced on my knees.
Dylan left the night before on a redeye and I already missed him. I locked up both of our houses and headed towards the airport.
Parking my car in long term parking, I grimaced at the weight of my bags pulling at me as I trudged to the covered waiting area. I needed to catch a shuttle to the terminals. Why hadn’t I done what Dylan did and caught a cab?
I got through security and decided I needed to stop in for a coffee. My plane would leave in about an hour and thankfully I got there early with some cushion time. Standing in line, I couldn’t help overhearing the conversations between the woman in front of me and the cashier. With a hand thrust through her tussled hair, the woman barely held her tears in check. “Please, just a black cup of coffee. I haven’t eaten since I left London. Someone stole my cashier’s checks and I have no money. I have my wallet but nothing else.”
I angled my head to see her face. She obviously had been through a lot. Red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks were not signs that were easily faked. If they were, it was a tell-tale sign that the person doing the faking needed more help than what they were professing. I felt bad for anyone in need and I hated that she was being relegated to begging a man in an over-priced café in the world’s tiniest international airport.
Leaning over, I tapped the counter in front of the cashier who was adamantly shaking his head. I smiled when I caught his eye. “Can you combine our orders, please? I would like a double-shot granita with chocolate and banana flavoring. I also want one of your scones and I’m thinking that cream cheese mess over there looks delicious. I don’t know what it is. I just want you to put it on the pile.” I nudged the woman and whispered, “Get whatever you want. Even get a little extra so you have some to take with you on the rest of your trip.”
“Are you sure?” She looked at me, desperation pushing the pride I knew was there down. At my gentle nod she looked at the cashier. “Can I get one of those sandwiches, please? And some cream with my black coffee?” She looked down, as if she was embarrassed to accept help.
“Add a few more scones, maybe two, and also two orange juices and a bottled water.” When the cashier rang everything up, I slid my card through the swiper and put in my pin. After the man handed us our food in our own bags, I smiled and before walking away said, “I hope you have a safe trip.”
She stood there and stared at me with her mouth half-open. “Thank you so much. You, too.” I ignored the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes.
Biting into my blueberry scone, I jolted at the soft buzz in my pocket. Dylan better be texting me finally. I couldn’t wait to hear how his trip had started.
Dylan: Have you left yet?
I glanced at the TV monitor with the flight information on it. We were running a few minutes behind. I sighed and texted with one thumb while I claimed another bite. Not yet. Just grabbed a scone. Heading to plane now. Have fun in New York.
Dylan: I never said New York. Where are you going?
I narrowed my eyes. Hadn’t he said New York? Why was I thinking the Big Apple? Hawaii, the island of Kauai. I sent you my itinerary. Did you get it?
Dylan: Good luck, keep an open mind. I got a match. We’ll both be married when we get back. *fingers crossed!*
His last text sobered me. I reached my gate and stared at the screen. My boarding pass was just behind it but I didn’t care.
Wait. He was matched already? Was he meeting her on his trip? Had he turned his trip into his honeymoon? What did he mean he never said New York? I thought that’s what we agreed to. He was supposed to be going on a business trip and inspecting some equipment we were thinking of ordering for a new ride, but we’d never actually specified that’s what he was going to be doing.
I always pushed him away when we started to get romantic, which made sense for me but that was because I didn’t want to have anything happen to us.
Dylan always dated. I was never worried though, because they never ended up being anyone serious. The few times I dated, they’d always crashed so spectacularly I went to him for consolation. But a wife... Or husband... Nothing was serious or possible to me until he’d been matched. I knew nothing was serious for me, but Dylan...
Without overanalyzing anything, I was selfishly jealous. I didn’t want to text him anymore. I needed a break from the onslaught of information, and the no electronics rule on the plane would be a nice excuse for not texting him back.
I would get on the plane and just read. As I boarded and took my seat, I knew there would be no way I’d be able to focus on any of the books I brought. I could already see I was going to over-analyze Dylan’s new wife and what she would look like, what would she be like, would she and I get along?
Knowing she was kissing Dylan and sleeping with Dylan and being with Dylan all the time, I knew I wouldn’t like her. How dare she? Who did she think she was? His wife?
Wait. She could be. She would get all the great parts of him. She would replace me and I would be alone. He would eventually leave me and I would be all alone.
Had I taken him for granted? Of course I had. Was that one of the things I did wrong? That’s how I did it. I always assumed he would just be there for me.
What had I done?
~~~
MY LAYOVER WAS ON OAHU and I still didn’t want to answer his text message. I did have to check in on the app as I was traveling. The notifications dinged at me repeatedly when I sat in the Waikiki airport. On the little island hop flight, I looked excitedly at the crystal clear water and the beautiful green islands beneath me. I could do this.
Dylan was doing it. I could do it.
I would just be clear about my expectations and tell him we didn’t have anything in common and that we weren’t going to go any further. I would have to express I wasn’t interested in anything physical until I knew if we were going to be together for a while. I wasn’t in it for a quick lay.
After landing on Kauai, I stood at the baggage claim and scrolled through the app. I checked in using my GPS. Then it gave me a checklist of tasks my partner and I had to accomplish in the next two weeks. I wrinkled my nose and glared at the list.
Take a selfie upon check-in within the first twenty-four hours
Do something neither of you have done yet - together
Eat local fare
Try something adventurous together
I rolled my eyes at the list and didn’t bother reading more. Creating a fist, I shoved my hand into my stomach and pressed just below my navel. A wave of nausea left me feeling weak and I hoped my nerves weren’t getting the best of me. Maybe the climate change was affecting me more than I’d thought possible. The dry cool spring of North Idaho compared to the humid heat of Hawaii was enough to leave me feeling disoriented.
Plus, all the stress from not texting Dylan back combined with being in Hawaii with someone I didn’t know was getting to me. I needed to sit down. What if Dylan forgot me? What if he wanted to move away because of his new wife? He was so easy to get along with, how could anyone not want to be married to him?
Soon as I claimed my luggage, I hailed a taxi to the Kauai Shores hotel in Kapa’a on the South East part of the island. A headache was forming, but I allowed the gorgeous scenery to sway me into relaxing. I looked for animals, blinking at the roosters and hens running along the roadside. I couldn’t even muster up excitement at their presence.
It would only be a matter of time and I would be walking up to the hotel room door and meeting my “husband.” Did I have the nerves for this?