Chapter 1 #2
But what I need right now, I decide, is a break. A proper break. From everything. I’m just so tired. Tired of the media circus, the constant pressure to perform, of my life in the spotlight. Tired of Zach and his games.
An idea begins to form. And yeah, I know I’m privileged, being able to do this.
But I also work so very fucking hard. I scroll through my phone, squinting as I sip my coffee, tapping the screen as I send messages and change bookings, sorting out the plan.
There. It’s done. Hopefully, anyway. I just need one more response.
And then everyone will just have to deal with it.
My phone buzzes and a message pops up on screen. It’s not the one I’m waiting for, but it still makes me smile. From “Half of My Heart.”
Hey, I got the merchandise you sent. It’s awesome!
Wicked. Love you.
The reply comes a moment later.
I love you too
I lean my head back, smiling as I close my eyes. My life might feel overwhelming at the moment, but there’s a good reason I do all that I do. I just need a short break, that’s all. Then I can get back to everything again.
Axel
I roll over, stretching, linen sheets soft against my skin.
A fan whirrs lazily overhead, a blurred circle against the vaulted ceiling lined with dried palm leaves and ribbed with dark-stained timber.
Light slants through translucent blinds, the sound of the ocean hissing on the beach beyond.
Another day in paradise. I sit up, running a hand through my hair, then grab my phone from the white-painted bedside table, squinting at the time before putting it down again.
There are no messages, not that I’m expecting any.
Most of my friends gave up messaging me a long time ago.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet curling on the polished wooden floor.
The house is blissfully silent, my head clear.
I stand and stretch my arms overhead, bending to one side then the other as I release the night’s tension.
I bend forward, walking my hands across the floor, feeling the pull in my hamstrings as I settle into downward dog, the last vagueness of sleep leaving me.
I rock back, then forward, bending my elbows as I drop into upward dog, my hair tickling my bare shoulders as my head goes back.
My cat, Nimue, curled like a wisp of grey smoke in the slanting sunbeams, regards me with sleepy green eyes.
I finish my stretches with a sun salutation, then bend and scratch her head until her eyes close and she leans into me, purring.
I pad into the kitchen and grind coffee beans, the scent filling my senses as I breathe in and out, trying to hold the memories at bay.
Switching the kettle on, I roll my shoulders as I look through the sliding doors leading outside.
Scrubby greenery, then a stretch of golden sand, sloping down to water which is turquoise blue and crystal clear.
The perfect place for a morning swim. If I still swam.
I turn away from the view. Perhaps it’s punishment to live here with a constant reminder visible through my windows.
Pouring my coffee, I drizzle honey into the cup, letting its sweetness swirl through the dark brew before taking a sip.
It’s still too hot, so I set it down on the counter and go to another door, set in the side of the long, low-roofed bungalow.
My bedroom is at one end, a bathroom and dressing room off it, while the rest of the space is open plan, the kitchen in one corner, all dark wood and polished steel, while a comfortable sofa and several chairs sit in the centre of the space, beneath another whirring fan.
A small table and chairs complete the simple yet luxurious furnishings, all made by local artisans, the dark wood carved by hand, the soft fabrics printed in traditional patterns.
I open the door and step outside, loosening the drawstring of my pyjama trousers and letting them drop.
A silver showerhead protrudes from the timbered wall, and I turn the tap underneath.
Water hisses down, bracingly cool at first, then warming up.
Naked, I turn in the stream, soaping my body without thinking too much about it, my gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, past the carved wooden screen that shields me from early beach wanderers.
Not that there are many. The few acres that make up the small peninsula belong to me. My family acquired them decades ago and, back when I thought I was building a life with someone, I bought them outright. The beach is open to locals, of course, but I know I can trust them.
I shake my head, water spraying from my hair, blinking as soap trickles into one eye.
“Dammit.” I turn off the tap, rubbing my eye.
Blinking against the sting, I grab a towel from a peg and rub my face vigorously before towelling myself dry.
Still naked, I wander back through the house and pick up my coffee again.
It’s perfect. I carry it into my dressing room, putting it down before pulling on shorts and a T-shirt.
My gaze goes to the birthday card on the dressing table, featuring a photo of the New York skyline.
I’m sure if I look hard enough, I can pick out my parents’ place.
I’m slightly surprised my mother hasn’t circled it, as though she thinks I might have forgotten.
“Happy birthday, darling,” it reads. “Hope to see you next year for the big 3-0.” And, beneath it, “You are going to come home one day, aren’t you?”
I sigh. I didn’t bother to reply to the card. As far as I’m concerned, I am home. My relationship with my family is complicated enough, and it seems as though it’s about to get even more so. Going back to New York isn’t going to change that.
Picking up my coffee, I head back into the bedroom.
My phone buzzes and, frowning, I grab it from the bedside table.
I check the sender and my brow clears. Anna lives on the island of Bali, a short boat ride away.
We’re friends but nothing more, both of us working through our own stuff.
She’s been here a couple of times, the place open to her whenever she likes.
She also knows some of my secrets. But not all of them.
There are some things I cannot share, even with a friend.
Darling Axe, A friend needs a place to crash for a while. Can I send her to the cabin?
Of course. It’s ready for you any time.
I pause.
What’s her name? And when will she get here?
The message comes back a moment later.
She’s on her way. And her name is Jade.