A Man, a Girl, a Deserted Island - - A Crazy Epic Love Saga

Episode 45: God Always Has a Plan

I think it's three in the morning, but I can't sleep at all. I slept during the day and messed up my schedule. It's okay, it's enough that I'm lying on the sand. I'm lying on my back, with my hands behind my head, analyzing the constellations. There are the Pleiades, there's Orion's belt. Further on is... what is it? I've forgotten what it's called.

In my past life, I didn't have much time to do this, to look at the sky. I was always on the run, always chasing after various kinds of crap, always busy. It's clear, if you really want to change your life, you have to leave home. At least sometimes. But you need courage to do it. Or you need a couple of pills stolen from a stranger's purse in a hotel room.

I wonder if I would have left if I hadn't been drunk? What would have happened if Ana hadn't crossed my path? That whole strange story that happened between her and me in the hotel room had a purpose. God doesn't do things for nothing.

Probably everything that happens to us in life has a purpose, even if, at the moment, we're too blind to see it. For example, what's the purpose of me being awake now? Isn't God watching me? All these things, the accident, the shipwreck, are part of a plan... What's your plan for me, Lord?

I listen carefully. I hear footsteps approaching on the sand and I don't need to open my eyes to know who it is. Eva stops next to me, looks at me intently, then whispers:

"You can't sleep either."

I look up at her. The girl sits cross-legged next to me.

"Can I rest my head in your lap, Eva?"

"Put it there," she replies indifferently.

It's been so long since I rested my head in a woman's lap that I'd forgotten how good it feels. The girl silently runs her fingers through my short hair. She has small, warm fingers. They tickle me. They feel like little gentle animals kissing and caressing my skin, bit by bit.

I close my eyes and feel like sighing. The pleasure is dizzying. I deeply inhale the scent from her lap and I like it so much that I stretch my lips and kiss her there.

Her fingers clench in my hair.

"I want to," she whispers.

I open my eyes. I understand, she's playing with me. In fact, she's in a joking mood. I look at her. I try to see the real Eva. I haven't forgotten the humiliation I felt a few days ago.

A woman shouldn't play like this with a man. It's cruel.

"I want to," she repeats.

"I'm happy for you."

"I said I want to," Eva repeats sharply. "Take off your swimsuit now! Don't forget it's mine, I won it fair and square, at chess."

Is this who you are, Eva? When you want something, you stomp your foot and expect it to come on a silver platter?

I reply, irritated but calm, without lifting my head from her lap:

"With that cheap attitude, you won't get anything."

She leans over and looks at me with sparkling eyes. She smiles and starts to act like a spoiled cat.

"Meow! I offer you something and you offer me something else. Maybe we can come to an understanding," she says, smiling and hiding her claws. "What do you say?"

"No."

"I'll let you close your eyes and imagine I'm a hippo-woman, like the ones you like."

"No! No way!"