...But in that moment, my stomach turned, my head was spinning, and the words were caught in my throat...
"Let's go to the beach!" she exclaims excitedly, flashing me a bright smile. I return her smile and nod, following her along the uneven cobblestones. The sun shines brilliantly overhead, illuminating the bright blue sky. The warmth feels invigorating, making the moment all the more blissful. She walks a few paces ahead of me, bouncing eagerly with each step. Her short black hair — tied back in a short ponytail — bounces with her, and her gym bag, filled with her essentials for the weekend, follows suit. I smile to myself, enjoying the happiness her company brings me.
We arrive at the beaches' sandy shore. "I'll change first. Hold this for me?" I grab the cup of coffee from her hand.
"Okay, I'll wait out here." She smiles at me again and walks into the bathroom. I take in the scenery around me. The sand is white and looks soft, and the water is so crystal clear the rocks and sea life underneath is easily visible. The shore line is filled with a few small families and passersby out for a late morning walk, but is relatively empty. The island wraps around itself in crescent shape in the distance. Beyond the beach are rocky shorelines with lush green trees filling the inner parts of the island.
"I'm back!" She walks out of the bathroom in her beach attire: a new pair of black nike shorts and a white top of the same brand. She smiles at me and her beauty is more captivating to me than any of the natural wonders of this tropical island.
"My turn." I hand her the coffee back and walk into the men's bathroom to change.
...
We walk down the shore together to find a spot to settle down. We choose a small strip of sand devoid of seashells and rocks a few feet from the water line under the shade of the palm trees. "Ready to get in the water?"
"Yes!" She replies immediately, taking off her shirt to reveal a black sports bra underneath as she starts towards the sparkling ocean. I take my shirt off and follow. We slowly wade into the water, trying to acclimate to the colder temperature. We both stop at about waist deep. "Okay, I'm gonna wait here to get used to the water before I go any deeper."
"I can help with that," I say as I slap the water's surface and splash her.
"Hey!" she yelps in surprise. "What are you doing?!" she laughs, splashing me back. I laugh and guard my face from her sudden onslaught.
"Well, no point in holding back now." I dive under the water, and when I resurface I see her doing the same. We play in the water, tossing a foam football to each other and making theatrical dives to catch it, laughing at our pitiful attempts at athleticism. After an hour, we retire to our beach towels on the shore.
We lay next to each other atop the warm sands, enjoying the tranquility of the quiet beach. I lay with my eyes closed as she calls her wife. As she talks, I imagine how things would be different between us under different circumstances. I wonder if we would hold hands, or share the same towel as we cuddle underneath the shade of the palm trees like a shameless couple on a romantic retreat, and how blissfully sweet that would be. But that fantasy is not mine to own, and I chastise myself for betraying our friendship with my selfish desires. After all, I enjoy how things are now. She hangs up the phone after a few minutes.
"How's she doing?" I ask
"She's good. I told her I'd call her after we check into the hotel."
"Good." Just then, she receives a notification.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." She groans in frustration.
"What's wrong?"
"She just texted me saying she's hurt that I didn't call sooner. I even told her everything we did so far today just to get here. When was I supposed to call her?"
"I'm sorry," I say sympathetically.
I hate seeing her treated so unfairly. I know how much effort she puts into her marriage, and how difficult that has proven for her in the past, but her devotion continues to overcome all obstacles, and my admiration for her loyalty to another ironically makes her all the more desirable. But this admiration is a double-edged sword, for with it grows my resentment for her spouse, and the guilt that follows exponentially so. She sighs in exasperation. "She said she's looking forward to my call later."
"All handled then?"
"Yeah," she responds flatly.
"Well it's almost time to check into the hotel. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, let's go. I'll just wear this."
