Love To Hate You

Moving on

Mary

Unpacking just enough to live, I splurge for the first time in my life. My upbringing made me a minimalist. I was never much into materialistic things, but with Olivia in the driver's seat, I managed to put a major dent on my credit card. Jeremy had life insurance, and he left everything to me, which was a staggering amount. I tried to help Olivia out, but she wouldn't accept, like I thought. Us Warner's are a proud bunch. We take care of ourselves and would never take a handout.

I'm exhausted by the time I get back to my house. After dropping Olivia off, dad made me come in for a tea. I couldn't pass on his offer. He wouldn't allow it. All I want to do is sleep, but with T-Minus sixteen hours before boarding the ship, packing is inevitable.

Over a dozen new dresses, six pairs of heels, and one tiny red bikini stare back at me. I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed. Olivia has an acquired taste in clothing. I like to blend in to the crowd, and she has always stood out. A lot of what she picked has me stepping far from my comfort zone. I debate tossing them all back in their bags and packing some of my safer clothing. Stopping myself, I open the suitcase and place them inside. This trip is about change and acceptance. That means accepting me as well. I smile to myself, I can almost hear my therapist cheering me on...

DAY 1

The ship sounds its final horn for departure. I'm on the second level in search of my room. I wanted a regular bunk, but all they had left was a luxury package. When I step inside, the smell of fresh pine and sea mix creates a unique scent. I drop my bags, testing the fluffy, queen-size bed. I think this is the best idea my dad has ever had. These next two weeks are going to be amazing, I just know it.

Reading through the brochure, I come across a singles mingle at nine pm this evening. Normally, this wouldn't catch my attention. I've had no desire to date since Jeremy passed, but I'm turning over a new leaf, and this is a step in the right direction. Trying to imagine striking up a conversation has me second-guessing. I wouldn't know where to start. Aside from a few school dances, Jeremy is the only man I've ever dated. Maybe dinner on the main deck is a safer bet. Then again, the thought of dressing up and eating alone sounds kind of depressing. Here I go again, overthinking everything. We went over this in therapy. I have a tendency to talk myself out of things. With my mind made up, I take a shower and go through my selection of cocktail dresses. I pick one of the more modest ones. A red scoop neck chiffon that ends mid thigh. It's flirty but classy, at least that's how Olivia described it. I finish it off with black strappy pumps and a pair of simple diamond earrings that Jeremy bought me our first Christmas together. It's the first time a memory of him doesn't have me hyperventilating while bursting into tears. Sweet progress. I let my hair air dry while I apply a coat of mascara and my favorite red lip stain. The humidity must be higher because my hair is unusually frizzy. I rifle through my bag, hoping I brought my rosehip infused serum when I find a note. It's in my dad's chicken scratch writing. The simple message has my eyes misting;

Life is short, baby, live it to its fullest extent...

Love dad

I tuck it back in its pocket and square my shoulders.

"I'm ready to live, dad."

The place is beautifully done. The floor is open under dim lighting, and tables of food line the side. Small tables with pretty crystal roses make up the rest of the area. Classical music plays lightly in the background, and the room is alive with excited chatter. I stand near the bar, waiting for an apple martini. Friendly faces greet me as people move about the room. This isn't so bad, in fact it's freeing.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I turn around when I realize no one else is beside me, and the question was directed to me.

"Oh, sorry. I already paid."

He holds up two fingers at the bartender and carries on talking to me.

"That's okay, I'll get you another. I'm Pete."

Pete holds out his hand, and I set mine in his. He brings it to his lips and places a light kiss on the top. My cheeks heat before I remember to introduce myself.

"My name is Mary."

Pete smiles, and I notice how white his teeth look next to his tanned skin. He's tall and very lean, He looks to be around thirty-one Jeremy's age. I shut that train of thought down. Pete laughs at something he's said, and I focus back on him, smiling. His eyes crinkle at the outer corners, and I realize he may be even older.

"So then, would you like to dance?"

It's been so long I almost decline, but then I remember my dad's note and give him my hand with a quick nod. He's very smooth with his words and even smoother on the dance floor. We sway to three songs before I move away for a drink, and another woman cuts in.

"Don't go too far." He coos. I smile shyly as I take the excuse to catch my breath. I don't think I've ever had more than three drinks. Even in college, and they're beginning to go to my head. Despite my better judgment, I order one more.

"Is this what grieving looks like, or have you given up on the charade?"

That voice! My glass drops, the liquid splashing over my dress and face. I turn around to see Brandon glaring at me, with a wicked grin on his lips...