Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
NATALIE
S ubmerged to my shoulders, I leaned onto the edge of the pool and watched the sunset. A dozen couples had made their way onto the beach and found little nooks to sit together privately, taking in the show of orange, coral, and a brief midnight blue as the sun dipped below the horizon. Stars as plentiful as glitter slowly made their appearance in the darkening sky while the wind rustled through the palm trees. I studied the pairs, absolutely jealous they had somebody to share this moment with.
Joel was reigniting something in me that I hadn’t felt in quite a while—feeling hopeful, excited even. Dane and I had been so busy between my job, him working toward partnering at his firm, and then planning the wedding. Somehow, we had allowed ourselves to grow completely apart before I even realized it.
“No, Nat. It’s not that. Why are we doing this? Do you really want to go through with this?” He brought his eyes back to mine and waited for my response.
“Why are we doing this? You’re thirty. I’ll be thirty in a few months. We’ve been together forever. We have great jobs. We have a perfect life. We are best friends.” I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “I’m pretty sure there are a couple dozen photos of us on social media with the hashtag ‘couples goals.’ This is the next step. I can’t imagine a better time for us to get married.”
“This is really what you want?” he asked again.
“Dane, I love you. I really don’t know where this is coming from. Why all of a sudden, two days before the wedding, are you questioning our future together?” I wasn’t pleading, but it felt five seconds away from that.
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. It was his way of shutting down when conversations got tough. He could fight to the death in the courtroom, but with me, he more often than not opted to give up.
“No you don’t—you don’t get to avoid answering this. I have family flying into Portland tomorrow from all over the country. Your dad is coming and your brothers. I have a dress, the most perfect dress you could ever imagine, just waiting for me to wear it. Not to mention everything at this point is non-refundable.” I refused to cry; instead, my words came out harsh, accusatory even. “What made you change your mind now? If you really didn’t want to do this, why not say something a month ago?”
He looked at me and took a deep breath. “A month ago I hadn’t met her . . .”
I shook myself from the memory and watched a dad and son boogie board, studying the waves, allowing only the best ones to carry them to the shore. Before long, it got too dark for them to continue. Soon many of the couples began vacating the beach as well. A shiver left me, and I swam over to the stairs, climbed out, and dried off. I grabbed my book from earlier and my phone, which lit up to show a missed text from Joel.
Sorry again about tonight. I really didn’t mean to cut our date short. I found a hike if you’re interested. It comes with the required waterfall.
My plan was to spend the rest of the evening in the tub, listening to sad female vocals about lost love and wallow in self-pity like the previous night. I definitely needed to order more chocolate-covered fruit to complete the ambiance. But after tonight, it had to stop. It was borderline pathetic, and I was coming to realize maybe I wasn’t even that upset about the wedding being canceled. Maybe what I was really sad about was discovering my life wasn’t as fulfilling as I had hoped it would be. And perhaps all those carefully created plans for the future were not what the universe wanted for my life.
I sent my request for the platter via the resort’s app and opened Joel’s text back up.
Send me the address. Send me the time. I can’t wait.
Then I turned on the bath water and lit the candles, ready to bid farewell to the old Natalie.
“Where’d you find this trail?” I asked, while navigating my way through a muddy path of exposed roots under a lush rainforest canopy. It was humid and wonderful. Around each bend were surprises of slow trickling creeks, big banyan trees, and thick undergrowth.
Joel paused and pulled off his daypack, taking a snack from it and handing me one, before throwing it over his shoulder again. “A guy I work with took me here when I first got to the island. I haven’t hiked it since. But after you asked for a waterfall last night, I remembered it and looked it up.”
“You don’t hike a lot?” I was somewhat surprised, opening the granola bar. He was in really good shape and seemed the type to embrace all the adventures the island had to offer.
He began walking again, leading the way. “Not as much as I’d like to. This may seem weird, but I don’t like to go alone. At least when I’m on the water paddle boarding, surfing, or kayaking, there are always other people around in case something happens.”
“That seems smart.”
We kept moving along in silence, listening to the sounds of birds and insects. It was an early Sunday morning, and we had the trail to ourselves. When Joel sent me the details the night before, I looked it up and saw it was a really well-traveled and social media documented trail, so I was pleasantly surprised to find us alone.
After heading up the mountain for a solid forty minutes, we made our way down a flight of wide, muddy stairs leading to a river. Crossing the shallow and rocky river bed, the jungle opened up to a full waterfall with a large, murky pool below. It was situated in a cozy corner, and with all the greenery, the rushing water, the cooing birds, and the stream of sunlight penetrating through the canopy, it was completely romantic . . . because that’s totally where my mind was going, which caused me to blush. With how warm and sweaty I was, the blush got hidden, and I was grateful.
There was no way Joel saw this hike as anything more than fulfilling a request from a random tourist he took on a date the night before. For all I knew, he brought me here to kill me and dispose of my body. Yes, I could go from swooning romantic to Dateline special in a tenth of a second.
He set down his pack on a large rock and made his way toward the falls. “There’s a little ledge right here we can hike alongside and then jump in.”
“Did I not mention I like waterfalls, but have a fear of heights? I prefer to appreciate them from ground level and definitely never jump off of them.”
Joel pondered on that for a moment, after which I completely expected him to casually say “suit yourself” and give a shrug before sitting down and having another snack. Instead, he held out his hand and declared, “Not today. We’re doing this. We both need this.”
A small part of me wanted to know what he needed this for and why he thought I needed it, too, but in that moment, in a very uncharacteristic move, I took his outstretched hand and let him lead me to the beginning of the ledge. His hand fit mine like a glove. I felt a wave of excitement at this small gesture but also an odd sensation of being home. Like he took my neurosis down just a notch and helped me feel centered. As soon as I thought this, I silently chastised myself for reading so much into a simple action.
We let go as we made our way up to the top, slipping through the mud and watching every footstep on the narrow shelf. Soon we were standing right at the edge where the water leaped off the safety of the rock.
“How high up are we?” I wondered aloud.
“Forty feet,” he answered, pointing to a sign somebody had nailed to a tree.
“Did you jump off this last time?” I peered over the side to the dark pool below. It looked much too small to jump into, like in a cartoon where the circus clowns land in a small bucket of water from high on the trapeze. There was no way this was a good idea.
“No. It was really busy that day, but today, we have the whole thing to ourselves and that never happens. It’s a sign, we have to do it,” he coaxed.
“How deep is the pool down there?” I was stalling. Looking down once more convinced me of what a bad idea it was to let him talk me into this.
“I guess we are going to find out, aren’t we?” He had a mischievous look in his eye as he took my hand again. If shaking his hand and then brushing it twice accidentally caused a warmth to wave through me, now outright holding his hand twice was electrifying.
My emotions were ridiculous. Despite my fear of heights, I would have jumped out of an airplane if he wanted to because of the way his touch set me on fire. I really had become pitiful.
I peeked over to see if he was having any kind of reaction to our fifth-grade moment, but he was as calm and collected as ever.
He stared down the steep drop. “Are you ready? I’m going to count to three.”
“Jump on three or jump after three?” I interrupted.
“On three. One . . . ” he began.
“I hate you!” I cried.
“No you don’t. Two . . . Three!” he boomed, pushing off and pulling me with him.
We released hands and plummeted toward the water, falling faster than I had anticipated—which removed the chance to feel the extreme fear I had expected. We barreled like torpedoes below the surface. I hardly allowed myself time to feel the water’s weightlessness before finding a rock on the bottom and pushing off to break above the waterline. I looked around for Joel, and he popped up a second later, a wide grin on his face.
“That was incredible. Let’s go again.” The weight from whatever had come across his phone the night before was gone, and he had such an infectious excitement about him that I couldn’t say no.
I also silently vowed to never disclose to him that out of fear I peed myself on the way down.
After getting our fill of voluntarily throwing ourselves from the rock, various groups of hikers started showing up, and we took that as our cue to leave. In the spirit of feeling bold and having newly become a risk-taker, I invited Joel to an afternoon of relaxing by my pool and ordering room service. It wasn’t until after he accepted, and we both pulled into the resort’s parking lot, that I realized he would finally see me in a swimsuit. I had managed to kayak and jump off the falls in a swimsuit covered up by shorts and a t-shirt. There was no way I could get away with that now. Though riddled with insecurity about my curves, I couldn’t take back my offer.
Joel took in my bungalow with wide eyes. “When you travel, you do it in style.”
I set my keys down, put my backpack in the bedroom, and changed into my dry, most slimming swimsuit. Draping an airy gold coverup over the black single shoulder suit, I studied myself in the mirror, wondering how on earth I’d gotten myself into this situation. Reminding myself a new chapter of life was starting, I walked back out to the living area.
“If I remember correctly, you did call me high-maintenance. I guess this proves you weren’t wrong.” I handed him a water bottle from the fridge.
He broke it open and took a drink. “I also recall saying I appreciated that about you.”
“And why is that exactly?” I probed, leading him out to the lanai.
“Because it tells me that you’re confident and respect yourself. That’s attractive,” he explained.
Well, wait until you decide you want to go swimming and I don’t want to join you—let’s see how confident you find me then, I thought.
I sat on one of the lounge chairs and pulled up the resort’s app on my phone, placing our lunch orders. As predicted, Joel got in the pool and swam around for a few minutes before asking me if I was going to join him.
“Maybe after lunch,” I brushed him off.
He narrowed his gaze and studied me for a minute. “This has something to do with what you started to say at dinner last night, doesn’t it?”
“I had found your impeccable memory so refreshing until just now,” I countered. My face felt hot. I was riddled with vulnerability and ready to go hide in my room or call security and tell them some stranger had wandered into my pool.
He swam over to the edge by my lounger, his eyes watching me until I couldn’t refuse to look at him any longer. “Natalie, whatever you’re unsure about with yourself, just know that I like you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have wanted to see you again after kayaking.”
There was genuineness in his words. I ate them up and was weary of them all at the same time.
“Turn around.” It was not a request.
He complied. I pulled my coverup off and slid over the edge into the water, taking a big breath before saying, “Okay.”
“Can I look at you now?”
I sunk down, leaving only my neck and head above the water.
“Yes.”
Joel flipped around and took me in. I looked ridiculous attempting to hide my body from him in the clear water. He stepped over and took both my hands in his. “Come on, stand up, Red.”
As he pulled me up, I looked him right in the eyes. “Your name for me is . . . unique. I like it. People usually call me Nat or Reddington.” I scrunched up my nose. “So, I just shot that whole bit about you finding my confidence attractive right out the window, didn’t I?”
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s nice to know you’re human. Between being a VP of contracts and charitable giving, traveling alone, and saying exactly what you’re thinking . . . it’s all kind of intimidating. If your self-perception is your Achilles heel, you are wrong because I find you attractive.”
A lump formed in my throat. That was a lot of complimenting from somebody who hardly knew me. And in the time we had spent together, he had formed quite the solid opinion of me—full of nothing but kindness.
I swallowed hard and tilted my chin up toward his face, eyeing his perfect lips, suddenly finding myself wanting to know what they tasted like. A surge of doubt shot through me—was it totally crazy to make a move? Was I reading the moment all wrong? I just barely met him . . . yesterday . This was so not like me. But it was also just a kiss, not like a lifetime commitment. That last part took over all rational thought.
His breathing quickened as his lips slightly parted, his eyes searching my face before looking down at my mouth.
Game. On.
Right as I took a small step forward, preparing to make a move, a bee flew into my cheek.