9. Becca
Becca
T he evening air feels cool against my skin as I slip into my red strapless maxi dress. It flows around my ankles like water, the semi-sheer fabric catching the golden light from the bedside lamp. I twist my hair into a loose knot, letting a few tendrils frame my face. Tonight needs to be perfect. Jack has been dropping hints about something special happening on this trip, and after five years together, I can only hope it means what I think it means.
I give myself one last look in the mirror. The dress is perhaps a bit much for a casual dinner at the villa, but Kay had texted earlier saying we should “dress for the occasion.” Whatever that means.
“Jack?” I call out, hearing the shower still running. “I’m heading out to the pool. Meet me there when you’re ready?”
No response, of course. I sigh and grab my small clutch, slipping my feet into strappy sandals before making my way through the sprawling Cozumel villa. The marble floors feel cool beneath my feet, and the smell of salt water and tropical flowers hangs in the air.
As I approach the pool area, I hear voices—low and tense. I slow my steps, not wanting to interrupt what sounds like an argument.
“This is ridiculous, Kay. You can’t orchestrate people’s lives like they’re pawns in your social chess game.” Clive’s voice carries across the night air, deeper than usual, slightly slurred.
I pause behind a large potted palm, feeling suddenly awkward. Eavesdropping isn’t my style, but neither is walking into the middle of an ex-spousal dispute.
“Don’t be dramatic, Clive. Jack loves her, and her family connections would be invaluable for his future. It’s a perfect match.” Kay’s voice is sharp and defensive.
“A perfect match?” Clive laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “He treats her like she’s an accessory. Have you ever seen him look at her the way—” He stops abruptly.
“The way what?” Kay presses.
“Nothing. Just—Rebecca deserves better.”
I should leave. I really should. But my feet seem rooted to the spot.
“I’m going to find Jack,” Kay announces after a moment of tense silence. “Try not to ruin everything with your sentimental nonsense.”
I hear the click of her heels retreating and quickly compose myself, pretending to have just arrived as I round the corner to the pool area. Clive stands at the edge, a tumbler of whiskey in hand, staring at the darkening horizon.
He turns when he hears me approach, and something flashes across his face—something that makes my chest tighten in an unfamiliar and thrilling way.
“Rebecca,” he says, his eyes traveling from my face down the length of my dress and back up again. “You look... stunning.”
My cheeks warm instantly. I’m used to compliments—polite, expected ones—but something in the way Clive says it makes it feel different. Real.
“Thank you,” I manage, smoothing down the front of my dress nervously. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard...”
“Just Kay being Kay,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He takes another sip of his whiskey, and I notice his knuckles are white around the glass. “She has a particular vision for how this evening should go.”
I approach the pool’s edge, watching how the water catches the torchlight. “And what vision is that?”
Clive hesitates, then moves to stand beside me. He’s close enough that I can smell his cologne—something woodsy and expensive—mingled with the whiskey on his breath.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” he says quietly, “but I think you deserve to know what you’re walking into.”
My heart rate picks up. “What do you mean?”
He turns to face me fully, and even in the dim light, I can see the intensity in his blue eyes. “Kay has orchestrated this entire weekend. She’s convinced Jack will propose and determined to make it happen on her timeline.”
“Oh,” I whisper, unsure whether to feel excited or manipulated. “I see.”
“Do you want that? Marriage to Jack?”
The directness of his question catches me off guard. No one has ever actually asked me what I want. They just assume.
“I...” I start, then falter. “We’ve been together five years. It’s the next logical step.”
Clive’s eyebrow raises slightly. “That wasn’t my question.”
Before I can respond, he steps closer, close enough that I’m forced to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “Rebecca, you deserve someone who looks at you like you’re the center of their universe. Someone who appreciates your intelligence, kindness, and...” he gestures vaguely at me, “everything.”
My breath catches. “Clive, you’re drunk.”
“Slightly,” he admits with a small smile. “But that doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true.”
I don’t know what to say. No one has ever spoken to me like this, with such conviction, such certainty about my worth.
“Good luck tonight,” he says finally, stepping back and finishing his drink in one swallow. “Whatever happens, just remember—you don’t have to settle for someone who makes you feel small.”
As he walks away, I’m left standing by the pool, my reflection wavering in the rippling water, feeling as though something fundamental has shifted beneath my feet.
“Becca! There you are.”
I see Kay striding toward me, her silk jumpsuit rustling with each determined step. Her smile is wide but doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she takes in my appearance.
“You look lovely, dear. That dress is... bold.” She reaches out to adjust one of my straps unnecessarily. “Jack is just finishing up. He’s been so nervous all day.”
My mind is still reeling from Clive’s words. I force a smile. “Nervous? That doesn’t sound like Jack.”
Kay laughs, a practiced tinkle. “Well, some occasions call for a little nerves, don’t they?” She links her arm through mine, steering me toward the outdoor dining area where candles flicker in hurricane lamps. “I’ve had the chef prepare Jack’s favorite tonight. And champagne, of course.”
Of course. Everything is orchestrated, just as Clive said. I glance back toward the villa, seeing him through a window, pouring another drink. Our eyes meet briefly before he turns away.
“You know,” Kay continues, oblivious to my distraction, “I always hoped Jack would find someone from a good family. Your parents’ annual charity gala is still the social event of the season. Will they be joining us for the wedding? I was thinking spring at the Plaza would be divine.”
“We’re not even engaged yet,” I remind her, the words coming out sharper than intended.
Kay pats my hand. “Details, darling. Details.”
Jack appears then, freshly showered and wearing a crisp linen shirt I ironed for him thirty minutes ago. He looks handsome, I suppose, in the objective way I’ve always acknowledged. But for the first time, I notice he doesn’t look at me as he approaches—he’s checking his phone, his brow furrowed.
“Finally,” Kay says. “We were about to send a search party.”
Jack slips his phone into his pocket and gives his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to me. His eyes flick over my dress, and he frowns slightly.
“Isn’t that a bit much for dinner at home?” he asks.
I feel my face flush. “Your mother said to dress up.”
“You look beautiful,” comes Clive’s voice from behind me. He’s emerged from the villa, another drink in hand, though he seems perfectly steady. “The color suits you.”
Jack’s expression darkens. “Thanks for the fashion commentary, Clive. Mom, didn’t you say something about champagne?”
Jack leans close to me as Kay bustles off to fetch the drinks. “What were you talking to Clive about?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just small talk.”
Jack narrows his eyes. “Right. Well, try not to encourage him. He gets weird when he drinks.”
Weird. Is that what Jack calls it when someone speaks to me with genuine interest and respect?
“Champagne!” Kay announces, reappearing with a tray. The house staff follows behind with covered dishes that smell divine. “Let me take you to your seats. I’ve arranged everything on the beach. It’s simply magical.”
I follow Kay down the stone path to where a table has been set up directly on the sand. Tiki torches form a circle around us, and the waves lap gently at the shore just feet away. It’s breathtaking—romantic in a way that feels almost comically staged.
“This is... wow,” I manage, taking in the elaborate setup.
“Only the best for you two,” Kay says with a meaningful glance at Jack, who seems more interested in his phone than the romantic seating under the moon.
Once we’re seated, Kay raises her champagne flute. “To Jack and Becca—may tonight be everything you’ve been waiting for.”
I sip my champagne, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as Kay continues to hover. Jack shifts in his seat, finally looking up from his phone.
“Mom, weren’t you going to confirm the details for tomorrow’s fishing trip?” he asks, frustration lacing his tone.
Kay’s smile tightens. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot. You two, enjoy your evening. I’ll just...” She hesitates, reluctant to leave, but Jack’s stare doesn’t waver. “I’ll check on you later.”
Jack visibly relaxes when she’s out of earshot, loosening his collar. “Finally. She’s been hovering all day.”
“She seems excited,” I try to keep my tone neutral.
Jack rolls his eyes. “She’s been planning this for months. It’s exhausting.”
My heart sinks a little. If Jack’s been dreading this supposedly special occasion, what does that say about us?
“So,” Jack says, suddenly animated as he leans forward. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
This is it. My pulse quickens despite my conflicted feelings. Five years. Five years of dinners, vacations, and family holidays. Five years of waiting.
“I’ve been thinking about our future,” he continues.
I hold my breath.
“I’ve got this incredible business opportunity,” he says, eyes bright. “Tech startup—cutting edge stuff. Clive won’t back me, of course. He never sees my potential. But I found some investors who get it.”
“Oh,” I say, my champagne glass halfway to my lips. “That’s... great.”
“It’s going to be huge, Bec. Like, life-changing huge.” He reaches across the table to take my hand, the first genuine gesture of affection all evening. “But I need to focus on it completely. No distractions.”
“What does that mean for us?” I ask carefully.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” He squeezes my hand. “I think we should move in together.”
I blink. “Move in together?”
“Yeah. My lease is up next month, and now that Clive’s generosity has run dry, my mother refuses to pay for such an expensive place. I don’t want to move to Queens when you have a place in the Upper West Side. Besides, your place is closer to where I’ll be working anyway.” He takes a sip of champagne, looking pleased with himself. “It makes financial sense.”
“So... you want to move in with me to save money on rent?” I clarify, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.
“Well, yeah. And we’ve been together forever, so it’s the logical next step, right?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’ll be easier for me to focus on this business if I don’t have to worry about housing costs for a while.”
For a while. The words echo in my head. Not forever. Not marriage. Just... for a while.
“I thought...” I start, then stop myself. What’s the point in saying I thought he was going to propose? That I’ve been waiting, planning, hoping for years?
“What?” Jack asks, already distracted again, his eyes darting to his phone as it buzzes on the table.
“Nothing.” I take a large sip of champagne, feeling it fizz unpleasantly in my empty stomach. “Tell me more about this business opportunity.”
Jack’s face lights up, and he launches into a detailed explanation that I struggle to follow. Something about blockchain and artificial intelligence. I nod at appropriate intervals, but my mind wanders.
I think of Clive’s words by the pool. “You deserve someone who looks at you like you’re the center of their universe.” Has Jack ever looked at me that way? Has he ever even really seen me?
“...so basically, I’ll need to focus completely on this for the next year or so,” Jack says. “This means I might not bring in much income at first.”
Ah. There it is.
“You want me to support you,” I say flatly.
Jack has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Just temporarily. Once we get the first round of funding?—”
“We?”
“Me and my partners,” he clarifies. “Look, I know it’s asking a lot, but think of it as an investment in our future.”
Our future. The future where I work sixty-hour weeks planning other people’s dream weddings while subsidizing Jack’s latest venture. The future where I wait patiently for him to decide I’m worth committing to.
“What about marriage?” I ask suddenly, the words escaping before I can stop them.
Jack’s expression freezes. “What about it?”
“We’ve been together five years, Jack. Don’t you think about it?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “I mean, sure, eventually. But with this business opportunity?—”
“Right,” I interrupt. “Bad timing.”
“Exactly,” he says, relieved. “I knew you’d understand. You always do.”
I do, don’t I? I always understand. I always accommodate. I always wait.
“So, what do you think?” Jack presses. “About moving in?”
I look at him across the candlelit table, this man I’ve built my future around, and for the first time, I see him clearly. It’s not the idealized version I’ve clung to, but the real Jack—self-absorbed, entitled, and utterly oblivious to my needs and wants.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “It’s a big step.”
Jack frowns, clearly not expecting resistance. “We’ve been together five years, Becca. How is this a big decision?”
“Moving in together should be about wanting to build a life together, not about convenient rent.”
He sighs dramatically. “Why are you making this so complicated? It’s practical. We’re practically married anyway.”
“Practically married?” I repeat, my voice rising slightly. “Jack, you just said marriage isn’t even on your radar right now.”
“Because I’m trying to be responsible,” he says, his tone condescending. “I want to be financially stable before we get married. Isn’t that what you want? A successful husband?”
The way he says it makes my skin crawl—like he’s doing me a favor by considering marriage at all.
“I want a partner,” I say quietly. “Someone who values me as much as I value them.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “Now you sound like a Hallmark card.”
I take another sip of champagne, feeling a strange calm settle over me. I spent five years waiting for this man to love me how I deserve. Five years of planning other people’s perfect weddings while putting my dreams on hold.
“My apartment lease renews in two months,” I say. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” Jack looks genuinely perplexed. “It’s the obvious next step.”
Before I can respond, Kay appears, beaming as she approaches our table. “How are we doing over here? Ready for dessert?” Her eyes dart between us, clearly searching for signs of a proposal.
“We’re fine, Mom,” Jack says tersely.
“Wonderful!” She clasps her hands together. “I thought I saw something sparkly being passed across the table!”
The awkward silence that follows is excruciating.
“Not yet,” I say with a tight smile.
Kay’s expression falters. “Oh! Well, the night is young.” She shoots Jack a pointed look before backing away. “I’ll just... check on dessert.”
Once she’s gone, Jack groans. “See what I’m dealing with? She’s been like this all week.”
“She wants you to be happy,” I say, though I’m not sure I believe it. It seems more like Kay wants what Kay wants.
“She wants what she thinks will make her look good,” Jack mutters. “A high-society daughter-in-law to brag about to her friends.”
I feel a sting at his words. “Is that how you see me? A social trophy?”
“What? No.” He looks confused. “I’m talking about my mother’s motivations, not mine.”
“And what are your motivations, Jack?” I ask, genuinely curious. I’m not sure we’ve ever had this conversation in five years.
He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What do you mean? I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
The words should warm me, but they fall flat. When was the last time Jack said them without prompting? When was the last time I felt them?
“Is it?” I press. “Because lately, I feel like we’re on completely different pages.”
Jack sighs and reaches for the bottle to refill his glass. “Look, I know you’ve been to a million weddings, and you have this whole fantasy built up in your head, but real life isn’t like that. It’s about making smart decisions.”
“And I’m a smart decision?” My voice is quiet, barely audible over the sound of waves crashing nearby.
“Of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “You’re stable, you have a good job, your family has connections. We make sense together.”
I stare at him across the table, this man I’ve spent five years loving, and feel something inside me crack open. Not a break, but a release—like pressure escaping from a valve.
“That’s not love, Jack. That’s a business arrangement.”
His face hardens. “Don’t be dramatic. This is how adults approach relationships. Not everyone needs the fairy tale.”
I look down at my half-eaten meal, the champagne bubbling in my glass, and the elaborate setting Kay has arranged for a proposal that isn’t coming. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
“Maybe I do,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Maybe I do need the fairy tale.” I lift my gaze to meet his. “Or at least someone who sees me as more than a convenient next step.”
Jack’s phone buzzes again. He glances at it, then back at me. “Look, can we table this discussion? I need to respond to this message—it’s about the business.”
Of course, it is. I stare at Jack, at the handsome face I’ve convinced myself I love, and feel something inside me crumble. Or maybe it’s not crumbling. Perhaps it’s breaking free.
“Go ahead,” I say quietly. “Your business is important.”
He doesn’t catch the resignation in my voice, already typing rapidly on his phone. I look past him to the ocean, watching the moonlight dance across the waves. It’s beautiful here—truly magical. The kind of place where life-changing moments should happen.
Maybe one still will.
I excuse myself to use the restroom, needing a moment alone. Walking back through the villa, I pass the living room where Clive sits alone, nursing another drink and reading something on his tablet.
He looks up as I pass, his blue eyes immediately registering something in my expression. “Rebecca? Are you alright?”
I pause, suddenly unsure. “I... I don’t know.”
Clive sets down his tablet and stands. “Did he propose?”
A small, bitter laugh escapes me. “No. Jack asked to move in with me so I can pay his rent while he starts a new business venture. He asked me if he could continue using me and elevate it to a whole new level.”
Clive’s eyes soften. “Rebecca?—”
“Please don’t.” I hold up my hand, suddenly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. You’re his stepfather, and this is humiliating.”
“Ex-stepfather,” he corrects, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “And we both know my relationship with Jack is... complicated at best.”
I wipe away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Name it.” Clive’s voice is firm as he steps closer.
“Could you recommend a hotel on the island? I want to leave as soon as possible, but I can’t face him. If I move fast, there’s a good chance I can vacate the premises before he realizes I’m gone.”
Clive shakes his head with resolve. “Absolutely not. I’ll have Miguel move your belongings to the west wing immediately. Choose any empty bedroom you like. Jack and Kay are barred from that section of the house and will be out by morning. You’re more than welcome to stay through the rest of the week. The decision is yours.”