Chapter 20
I woke up at 5 AM after another restless night. Visions of my husband and Carly haunted both my waking and sleeping thoughts.
I didn't know Drew anymore.
He was no longer the caring, honest, and loving partner I'd associated him with all these years. He never told me he didn't want kids; he dug his heels in when it came to putting down roots and buying a home. He started stupid arguments, started neglecting me, and ignored any efforts I'd made to repair our marriage or even help me figure out what the hell went wrong. I'd spent time and effort researching a marriage counselor and shelled out two hundred dollars for a stranger to dissect us—only for him to make a fool out of me.
And then there was Carly.
I had no doubt now that Drew had been having an affair with her during our marriage. If not physical, then definitely emotional. Having him lie to me repeatedly about her was the final straw. I recalled the earnest cadence of his voice the last time I spoke to him, his desperate insistence that he wasn't dating or seeing Carly during our separation.
All lies.
Why had I checked Carly's social media? I hadn't done it since I'd seen her night out with Drew for Ben's birthday. Clearly, she was trying to antagonize me, so I didn't want to give her the satisfaction, even though she wouldn't know that I had stalked her profile.
But seeing Dana, a married woman, shamelessly cheat on her husband while he was nearby—it triggered something in me.
Before I knew it, I'd looked up her profile again and noted a new photo on there. It was a candid shot of Drew with a candle and a small vase with flowers on the table. He had a faraway look in his eye as he stared at something out of shot. A cold shiver slid down my chest, and an empty cavern opened up near my heart.
Carly DeDee: #DateNight
That was it. That was all she'd put. But it was enough. She'd even tagged the restaurant she was at. It was definitely a date night spot. And there was no doubt that this wasn't a work outing.
I'd closed out my phone before collapsing on my bed in a flood of heartbroken tears.
It was over. My marriage was done.
I wasn't in the mood for food this morning, so I just had a black coffee while I waited for my body to wake up fully. I kept the curtains drawn because if I had to look outside at that beautiful view that was the antithesis of how I felt, I'd probably take the financial hit and open the minibar in my room.
No rest for the brokenhearted, though. A bride with a heart full of newlywed hope was still waiting for her sneak peek photos. And I prided myself on delivering the goods within the timeframe.
I quickly re-checked the fifty photos I had selected and edited, ensuring they were perfect, before I set Helen up with a link and password to access her album. I couldn't wait to hear her response. The best part of my job was the feedback I received from some truly wonderful clients. It made up for the long, busy hours and the sore shoulders and back that came with bending and carrying heavy equipment, or hunching over my laptop.
With the photos sent, my stomach started to feel a little hungry. I wanted to leave my dark room, so I wandered downstairs for their buffet breakfast. Today was my last day in Puerto Vallarta. I was leaving tomorrow morning and heading to Mexico City for two days. I then planned on making my way to California and road-tripping back to St Louis. There was no immediate rush to head home. Nothing was waiting for me there anymore.
I did have a wedding booked in three months' time, so it helped to have a deadline for my return. I'd also placed advertisements on the local photography pages and my socials for discounted photoshoots along the way. I already had two lined up in Mexico City and one in San Diego a week after. But even if I didn't have any bookings after that, I still had enough savings to keep me going for a bit.
After a small breakfast of fruit and yogurt, I visited the concierge to peruse their tours and promos. On a whim, I booked a scuba diving excursion that was leaving in two hours. I'd always wanted to go on one and I needed a distraction. As always, I thought of the amazing sea life I could photograph.
Two hours later, I boarded the tour van. Despite my terrible night, I had a flutter of excited butterflies for the excursion ahead. Two other couples were on board, which made me feel even better about my single status. I focused my gaze out the window, blocking out their animated chatter.
Just as the van doors were about to close, a shirtless male rushed up to the tour guide. He clapped him on his shoulder and addressed him in Spanish. Our guide, Rico, answered him with a beaming smile and a flurry of fast Spanish that my high school-grade interpretation couldn’t keep up with.
After a few more exchanged words and more pats on the back, the shirtless guy hopped into our van, bending his tall frame as he walked down the short aisle, tugging off his backpack.
"Phew, just made it!" he exclaimed, grinning widely at everyone. When he reached the only spare seat on the small bus—next to me—his smile dipped before it brightened. "Hey, it's you! How's it hanging?"
Just my fucking luck. It was the blond gift from God from last night. Despite his, no doubt, debauched night, he looked as fresh as a daisy. And way too chirpy for me. I wasn’t surprised he was in such a good mood, considering he'd given a married woman a right seeing to last night.
I gave him a tight smile and nodded, trying to ignore that he was the only one onboard with his shirt off. Christ, even his abs had abs. Fortunately, I wasn't impressed by pretty packages. And considering he was at least a decade younger than me, I felt like a pervert if I stared too long.
I winced when he flopped down next to me, his bare shoulder touching mine. I discreetly shifted away.
"I'm excited for this. Have you been before? I did a scuba dive for my 18th in Cabo. It was pretty sweet, but the weather wasn't as nice as today."
Oh, god, he was so young. Like an excitable puppy. An excitable puppy that likely fucked a married woman last night.
He rubbed his hands before shifting his cap backward. My mouth tilted up before I forced it back into a frown. I couldn't help it. I found his enthusiasm kind of endearing. He reminded me of how I used to be at his age. Eager for life's next adventure.
I felt terrible for my snap judgment of him. I couldn't be mad at some young buck who had free sex offered to him. He wasn't the one in a relationship. Plus, his frontal lobe probably hadn't developed yet.
Dropping my frosty exterior, I acknowledged his question. "I've never been but always wanted to."
I took a deep breath before swallowing my pride. "I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. Completely my fault." If I was going to be stuck on this excursion for the next five hours, I wanted this to be a nice trip for both of us. Plus, by reading the pamphlet, I knew we were doing a buddy system. He and I would likely be paired since the other four were a couple.
"Hey, that's cool. Don't even worry about it." He held out his fist to me. I stared at it momentarily before slowly reaching out and connecting my closed hand against his. I hadn't fist-bumped someone since I was twenty-one.
"Between me and you, she was fucking crazy."
"You don't say," I breathed.
He nodded as he smoothed his hair back and placed his cap back on. "Her husband kept blowing up her phone. When she finally answered, they had a full-on argument while I was lying there with my di—ah, Big Guy, hanging out. Killed the vibe, ya know?"
My lips twitched in amusement. "Ah, yeah. That would do it."
"Anyway. No more married bitc—ah, I mean, ladies."
I gave a small snort, hiding my face in the pamphlet I'd already read twice.
The drive to the dock where our boat was moored only took fifteen minutes. As our guide beckoned us to disembark, my seatmate bumped his shoulder against mine. "I'm Carlos, by the way."
I smiled and stood. "Frankie."
The next few hours were a blast. Scuba diving was a fantastic experience, made even more special by the crystal clear blue waters and incredible sea life. There were thousands of exotic fish, eels, and Manta rays. I even had a sea turtle wade close enough almost to touch. Since these pictures were only for my pleasure and personal social page, I had my trusty Olympus TG-6 with me, and I couldn't wait to go through the footage when I got back.
Carlos was a pretty cool guy. A little goofy and cocky, and a lot flirty—but in that young puppy-boy way where you didn't take him too seriously. Although it was a serious boost to my ego to have a young, tanned Adonis, tell me I looked good in a wetsuit. No one looked good in a wetsuit. Okay, Carlos did. His body had that athletic build—all broad shoulders, muscled arms, trim waist, and chiseled stomach. If I looked closely enough, I could almost see his abs through the thick material. Not that I looked that much. My focus was purely on the magic of the ocean and the excitement at seeing creatures I'd only seen on nature shows.
I still felt terrible that I'd misjudged him badly. We had time to chat a bit on the boat ride there and back, as well as the short drive back to our resort. He was twenty-three and half Mexican, hence his natural tan and his Spanish that sounded like he was a local. It was his abuela's 80th birthday, so he'd traveled to Chihuahua with his mom, dad, brother, and sister to celebrate. From there, he decided to do a solo road trip—partying, surfing, meeting new people, and enjoying his culture.
The incredible thing was that he lived in Kansas City. It was almost unbelievable that he lived so close to me. When he started to ask about my life, I was purposely evasive with my responses. I shied away from anything too personal so when he queried if I was alone on this trip, I simply said yes and left it as that. His gaze had briefly dipped to my ring, but he wisely didn't press me further.
When we returned to the resort, I was exhausted but not completely tired from the day's adventure. We'd made friends with the other two couples who invited us to dinner but I was too emotionally exhausted to socialize. I said my goodbyes to them and accepted a lingering hug from Carlos.
"If you change your mind about a drink, I'll be at the bar later."
I nodded, patting his arm. "Thanks, but I think I'm gonna have an early night."
I headed back to my room, fully intending to lie down for a nap, but then I glanced out my balcony and realized I'd yet to take a photo of the beautiful sunsets here. I couldn't leave before snapping a few shots.
I grabbed my camera and tripod before hightailing it down to the beach before I missed Golden Hour. I set my camera up as the sky filled with swirls of orange, purple, red, and violet. I'd heard how magical the sunsets were in Puerto Vallarta; I'd seen countless photos of its unusual mix of colors that lit up the sky. But experiencing it in person was a whole different thing. I slowed my shutter down to capture the moving waves of the ocean as they drifted in and out, worshiping in rhythm under the sun's final farewell of the day.
I continued clicking away as the ball of glowing light started its descent on the horizon. As the sunset entered last light, my thoughts turned to Drew.
Tears streamed down my face as I captured the fading rays, catching me off guard. I thought about our life. Our marriage. I thought of all our hopes and dreams when we started our journey together. I thought of all those precious memories we'd shared that we had diligently immortalized in print—just like the ones I captured now. All wasted moments that would eventually be deleted, forgotten or trashed.
The sun peeked at me behind the horizon, holding onto its last grip on daylight. Soon, it would relinquish its reign to the night.
Just like I had to relinquish my grip on Drew.
The sun had set on my marriage.
Silent tears rolled down my cheeks before sobs wracked my body. I swiped away at them, but the attempt was futile. They kept falling, and I couldn't stop myself from the overwhelming grief that suddenly caught hold of me. I still loved Drew, but I needed to let him go. He'd hurt me so profoundly, cut me so deeply that I knew we couldn't find our way back. I had no energy or desire to.
As the sobs resided, I kept my gaze on the horizon. The colors were still incredible, but the desire to capture such beauty in the face of heartbreak also faded with the sun.
I stayed that way for another few minutes, sniffing back tears that had dried while small shivers had my chest rising quickly.
I saw a figure walk up to me from the corner of my eye, and I turned in fright.
It was Carlos. His brow was knitted together as his blue eyes searched my face. Shit . I discreetly tried to wipe any wetness from my cheeks. I was thankful it was getting dark, and I hoped he hadn’t noticed my red, swollen face. I kinda hoped he was one of those men who felt awkward around crying women and quickly fled.
He stopped in front of me, his hands deep in the pockets of his shorts. His head tilted as he kept his gaze firmly on my face. I gave him a shaky smile.
"You're too pretty to be crying."
I almost snorted. It was the last thing I expected from him. I sniffed loudly and sent him a droll look.
He flinched and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, do you mind if I turn around and come back? I think I can come up with a better line."
I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. It was just the thing I needed to hear to lighten the mood.
He smirked before shaking his head. "He's not worth it, Frankie."
The laughter cut out. Was I that obvious? Did I have "abandoned wife" written all over me? "How did you know?"
"C'mon. You're wearing a wedding ring, you're by yourself in paradise, plus you're crying your eyes out, and I know it's not from the pretty sunset." He tilted his head and gave me another flirty smile. "Plus, you're hot as fuck, so if I was your man, there's no way I would let you come alone to a resort filled with hot guys." He pointed a thumb at himself. "Hot guy."
I snorted before taking my camera off my tripod. "You're an idiot," I laughed.
He watched as I carefully placed my camera back in my bag.
"Some dick hurt you," he continued. "Your husband, I presume?"
I shook my head as I zipped up my bag. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Thank God. My type of comfort comes from a shot glass." He gestured his head back to the resort. "C'mon. Nothing a cold cocktail can't fix."
Before I could respond, Carlos grabbed my camera bag and hitched it over his shoulder. He then took my folded tripod and tucked it under his arm. His grin was wide and hopeful, and I couldn't help but be charmed.
Fuck it. It was my last night here. Better to be out having a drink with a friend rather than sulking in my room over the tattered frays of my marriage.
"Swap my cocktail for a tequila on the rocks, and you got yourself a deal."