I woke up around five in the morning severely dehydrated with a pink sticky note stuck to my forehead. I peeled it off gently and read it:
Two of the girls got arrested in Miami (fucking idiots), I have to head back and deal with these bitches. I'll call you later.
P.S. Shane deserves a medal for sleeping with you, because you snore. Loudly.
"Oh, damnit."
"What's wrong?"
I startled, searching around before I remembered Shane was still on the other line. "Um, nothing. Sydney had to go back to school."
"I see. You gonna head back too?"
I wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't know. Are you still mad at me?"
"...you think I'm
mad
at you?"
"You haven't talked to me in almost two weeks, Shane. I mean, you just up and left me and I have no idea why. What am I supposed to think?"
"Jesus Tess, I -" There was a loud muffled voice in the background, like someone was talking through a loudspeaker. "Shit. I gotta go, I'll talk to you later." And that was that.
I pulled the sheets over my head, planning to spend the rest of the day asleep before I shot out of bed and ripped them off. "Enough!" I shouted to no one.
Enough. You're in an expensive hotel in a beautiful city, you are NOT going to spend all day feeling sorry for yourself. Get your butt in gear and get the hell out of this room.
With a firm nod I grabbed my bathing suit and my book and got ready to go to the beach.
***
After lounging at the beach with
Awkward Black Girl
and an upbeat playlist I decided to take full advantage of the hotel's spa services. In six hours I had been wrapped, massaged, exfoliated, steam, plucked and waxed into submission. My curly black hair which had hung halfway down my shoulder blades had been cut right above my shoulders, the dark strands gradually lightening to a reddish-brown in an ombre dye job. It looked great, it just didn't look like me, which I guess is why I chose it. The stylist also wanted to give me heavy, dark makeup to go with the new hairdo but I heartily convinced her to leave my little brown face alone.
I unlocked the door to the suite, trying to decide between having dinner at a restaurant alone or ordering room service and watching bad TV. Shutting the heavy marble door behind me I stepped into the open living space and stopped in my tracks. Shane was sitting on the arm of the cream-colored couch with his arms crossed, staring down at his shoes and seemingly deep in thought. When he heard me shuffle in he looked up; a mixture of surprise and longing in his eyes as he took me in. "...wow. You look beautiful, Tess."
I stood in my spot, not knowing whether to yell or cry or run to him. Instead I walked to the eight-person glass dining table and grabbed the room service menu off it, tossing it to him. He caught it easily while raising an eyebrow at me in silent question. "Order food. I'm going to go take a shower," I stated flatly before turning and walking out of the room.
After stalling in the shower until my fingers and toes shriveled I finally got out, figuring I'd have to face him sooner or later even if I had no idea what to say to him. I slathered on some lotion and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a Yale tank top, not really concerning myself with appearances. I made my way back to the dining room where Shane was pouring out two glasses of red wine next to our covered dinner plates. I took my place two chairs down from him and we began eating in silence. About halfway through our meal he put his fork down next to his skirt steak and finally began talking to me.
"There was a four alarm fire at this colonial in Wallingford and their department brought some of our guys up to help contain it - the house was completely engulfed in flames but it wasn't anything we hadn't seen before. When we put it out is what we were told what happened. This mother," Shane scoffed harshly, "this
woman
who was pretty notorious in town for being batshit crazy had locked her four kids in their rooms, soaked the entire downstairs in kerosene and..." he shut his eyes to collect himself. I reached over and placed my hand in his and he grabbed it immediately, holding on to me tightly.
"I watched their remains get rolled away in body bags. I get that she wasn't in her right mind but I just can't...I've seen some shit on the job but that...if I can't save innocent lil' kids then what the fuck is the point of doin' it at all? So, I quit." I raised my eyebrows at his admission and he took a deep breath. "I can't do it anymore. I can't see shit like that and just go in the next shift like nothing happened."
"Okay." I squeezed his hand. "I mean, I get it. I'm so,
so
sorry you had to see that, and you have to do what's best for yourself. Besides, we've got a safety net - we've barely touched my trust fund. I'll accept Dad's offer when I get back and you can take as much time as you need to figure out your next path. Of course, you'd make an awesome stay at home dad too," I said, trying to lighten his mood. He ran his free hand down his face before dropping it into his lap with a melancholic look. "Unless you don't...you don't want to have a baby anymore?"
"...no. I...don't know."
"Is that why you picked that fight with me in the kitchen that morning? Were you just using my job offer as a way to back out?" He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. I snatched my hand away from him and felt a wave of nausea hit my stomach. "I can't believe you did that."
"I didn't know how to tell you after convincin' you to get pregnant that I wasn't ready anymore and it was easier to use that as an excuse."
"You just
tell