Chapter 17
I t was hard to be depressed in paradise.
This morning when I’d left for the airport, I didn’t feel my usual excitement. All I felt was sadness and regret. Sadness at the state of my marriage, and regret that I hadn't caved to temptation and seen Drew. Regret and sadness that my last verbal conversation with him had been heavy in misery and anger. Had I made the right decision? I still wasn't sure.
I was still miserable as I sipped a cocktail in the airport lounge, despite it being 9 AM. The thrill of boarding and flying to a new adventure failed to make my heart sing like it usually would. I never slept on short flights, but found myself snoozing for most of the three-hour-plus time.
Landing in sunny Puerto Vallarta lifted my spirits a little. It was hard to be sad when the sun greeted me so warmly. The weekend weather was predicted to be just like today—sunny, but not unpleasantly. I was thrilled for the soon-to-be-married couple. And for myself for having a wonderful backdrop to photograph against.
I hopped into the transfer car arranged by the bride, feeling a little reinvigorated. I'd planned on snoozing again on the drive to the resort, but I was captivated by the stunning scenery. I'd been to Mexico before, but only to Mexico City, Tulum and Carbo—the latter being a weekend trip with some college girlfriends. I couldn't wait to explore more of the local culture and sights.
The resort was just as gorgeous as the bride had said. The pictures hadn't done it justice. It was laid out in majestic glory on golden sand along the Pacific coastline. It was huge, with hundreds of rooms, sectioned-off pools, and gorgeous views of the ocean wherever you looked.
Since I was meeting the bride and groom for a drink and a tour of the venue in a few hours, I went straight to my room to freshen up. It wasn't until I was in my gorgeous suite that the dark cloud I'd pushed aside overtook me again. My phone was quiet apart from an unread text from Nellie. Nothing from Drew. Not that I cared.
He had tried calling me a few times after our last conversation, but I didn't want to speak to him. My heart was broken, and I had done so well not to sob down the line at him in my car. I couldn't guarantee that I would keep the same resolve again.
His last text to me was sent last night.
Drew: I was hoping we could meet up before you left, but it's clear you don't want to see me. This is a mess. Not your fault, I know. Please call me as soon as you're home. Love you, and be safe.
He was such a mind fuck. He loved me, but he wanted space. He had crossed the line multiple times with Carly, maybe not physically, but emotionally. Which, from what I’d read, was still cheating.
He didn't want a baby, so he confided all of this to Carly instead of turning to me. Even if he decided that he wanted to sort through things, I couldn't go through his hot and cold behavior again. I also wasn't sure whether I even wanted to stay in a marriage where my husband held so much back from me, and had also carried on an emotional affair. Was still carrying it on, in my opinion.
I was just so fucking tired of it all. And as hard as it was to put a smile on my face and be present for someone else's happily-ever-after, I was also thankful for the distraction of this wedding. It was better to be sad in paradise than in my empty house, wondering what my husband was up to.
After a shower and nap, I met with Helen and Harry, and their wedding planner. They were so excited and so in love that it was hard not to be infected by their happiness.
They pointed out where the ceremony would take place—on a gorgeous beachfront terrace. It was stunning, and they had the good hindsight to time my viewing with the actual timing of the ceremony and photos, so I had an idea of lighting and locations to shoot them.
We then went to one of the beach bars at the resort for a quick plan of action before they left to make their dinner reservations. Instead of returning to my room and wallowing in self-pity, I stayed a little longer at the bar for one more cocktail. I worked away at my laptop, editing the photos from the maternity shoot.
I was in the zone for a good hour before a loud gaggle of American tourists caught my attention. I glanced up and was greeted by the sight of four bikini-clad girls giggling and chattering loudly. Their focus was on a tanned blond guy who looked about twenty-one. He was holding a beer and talking animatedly to his enraptured audience. His arm was slung around one of the laughing girls while another svelte body was firmly pressed against his other side, her hand sliding up and down his stomach.
I hid a grimace before packing up my laptop. I felt like every bit of my thirty-two years watching these kids enjoy life while I grumbled at the noise.
I went back to my room before getting ready for bed. As I slid between the crisp white sheets, I resisted the urge to sink back into my habit of stalking Carly's social media, reading sad Reddit stories, and pouring over Drew's messages that he’d sent during our separation. I needed a mental break from him.
Before I knew it, the soft whirl of the air conditioner lulled me into a dreamless sleep.