Pleasure Island - Choose Your Romance

Epilogue

4 months later

You lie on the deck of Sea Sally and stare up at the crystal blue sky. A couple of white, fluffy clouds hang like tufts of cotton punctuating the bright blue. You can't believe it's already been three months of living here. Where did the time go? When you went back home to properly sell your place and resign from your job, that month crawled by painfully slow. Then, as soon as you got off the plane and back in George's arms, it was like the clock started whirling the days and weeks and now months together in a blur.

A beautiful blur.

Can you believe you almost chickened out? When you went back, your friends were not very enthusiastic about your decision. A couple of them tried to make George sound like some kind of scammer, tricking you into moving so he could steal your money. Others made his intentions sound much worse. All that negativity was getting to you. Wearing you down. Stealing the color from your life.

When you had your meeting with your boss to let her know you intended to quit, you didn't mean to break down into confused tears. She must have wondered what was going on with you. It's just so hard when your reckless heart is telling you one thing but your cautious brain is telling you another. After handing you some tissues and getting the whole story out of you, Chelsea smiled at you. And not one of those pitying "Oh my God, how can she be so stupid" type smiles you'd been getting from your friends when you spilled your plans to them. No. She looked genuinely happy for you.

"So, you're giving me your two weeks notice then?" She asked.

"I, um, I'm not sure," you stammered.

"What's the problem?" She seemed confused.

"I guess I might be getting cold feet," you sighed. "It's a big risk to take, isn't it? I mean, am I crazy to give up everything like this and live there?"

"How about this?" She sat on the edge of her desk and looked you in the eyes, "Don't give up everything. You're not burning any bridges here. Rent out your house, get a property manager to do all the work for you and send you the money. Then you'll always have some income. Then, if it doesn't work out between you and..." she paused waiting for me to fill in the blank name for her.

"George."

"Right. George. If it doesn't work out with George, come back. You'll still have your house and, if you want it, you'll always have this job too."

"Really?" Your eyes welled up, but this time it was tears of joy.

"Really," she gently clasped your hand. "If you think about it, you have much more to lose by not going than by giving it a shot."

That convinced you. Taking Chelsea's advice to heart, you found a property manager and a storage place for your things. The two weeks went by slowly at the office, but your boss let you slide out early most days, so that really helped. Next thing you knew, you were back on a plane, with a solid plan and a smile that you couldn't shake from your lips.

George brought you back to the hotel, to his hotel, and the two of you dined on steak and shrimp with too many cocktails and shut the restaurant down. Then you spent the rest of the night making sweet and passionate love, until your body was utterly exhausted and you fell asleep in his arms.

As you drifted off, he pulled you in close and whispered in your ear, "You have no idea how happy you make me."

That was three months ago, almost to the day. And the two of you have been smiling like fools and fucking like jackrabbits ever since. Not that you're complaining. Not in the least.