THIRTY-FOUR
I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the harsh afternoon light streaming in through the balcony doors. The sun was already high, and the only thing that was clear about the morning—afternoon now—was that I had definitely overdone it last night.
Lena, still half-buried under the covers beside me, groaned too, letting out a string of barely coherent words. “What happened…?”
she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow.
I rubbed my temples, trying to recall the details of last night. The sound of music. The lights. The laughter. And then—oh yeah. “We went skinny dipping,”
I said, finally piecing it together, a slow grin spreading across my face as I remembered the absurdity of it all.
Lena let out a chuckle, half-laughing, half-wincing. “Oh, God. That was… that was crazy.”
I laughed along with her, trying not to think about how we’d ended up back in our hotel room with all our belongings intact. “I can’t believe we made it back here. Right hotel. Right room. Like… responsible adults or something.”
She nodded in agreement, sitting up with a dramatic sigh, then winced. “I don’t feel responsible. I feel like a truck ran over me, but you’re right. Somehow, we did it. We are practically superheroes.”
“Superheroes with a hangover,”
I added, rolling out of bed slowly, trying to avoid the thudding in my skull. “Let’s go find food, Lena. I’m starving.”
I looked down at my phone to see four missed texts from Luca and one from Alessandro. Fuck!
“Alessandro and Luca’s conference ends today. They want to meet up afterwards,”
I told her.
“Fun,”
she stretched.
I sent Luca a quick text back.
Me: Perfect. Can’t wait.
I didn’t have enough energy to be more engaging at the moment. We managed to drag ourselves out of bed, shower and look like some semblance of readiness—though I was pretty sure I still had a streak of glitter on my cheek from last night’s party. No matter how much I scrubbed, the damn thing wouldn’t come off.
Once we hit the street, the midday heat hit us full force, but the cool ocean breeze kept things bearable as we wandered toward the nearest café. It was packed with tourists, but we weren’t in any rush. That was when we spotted them: Michael and Kenna. Of course. The universe had to throw in a twist, and I wasn’t surprised it was in the form of an ex and his new girlfriend.
Michael’s eyes immediately locked on me, his gaze sharp and calculating. I couldn’t help but notice how his jaw tightened, his posture stiffening as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. He didn’t want to be here. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be here either.
Kenna, standing next to him, caught sight of us and flashed a smile that felt more like a performance than anything real. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “What are the odds?”
I muttered to Lena, only half-joking.
Lena leaned in closer, her voice low. “I knew we couldn’t get away without this happening. Brace yourself.”
We walked toward them, trying to keep it cool. Michael’s eyes didn’t leave me, his expression unreadable, and I was pretty sure I could feel the tension radiating off him from across the sidewalk. The way he looked at me, the way his gaze shifted to my dress, told me everything I needed to know—contempt.
“Charlie,”
Michael said, his tone flat but polite. “Lena.”
“Michael,”
I said with the same level of politeness, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. “Kenna.”
Kenna gave me a small, pleasant smile, but I could see the challenge in her eyes. I couldn’t decide if it was insecurity or superiority—maybe a mix of both.
We exchanged a few awkward pleasantries, the kind of forced conversation you only have with exes you’re both trying to avoid. The kind of situation where you pretend everything is fine even though neither of you believes it.
I couldn’t help but notice how Michael’s gaze lingered on me for a beat longer than necessary, and I had to swallow down the reflex to remind him—without words—that I was no longer his to look at like that.
“Well,”
I said, breaking the silence before anyone could say anything else. “I think we’re going to grab some lunch. It was… nice seeing you.”
Lena shot me a look, and I could tell she was itching to get out of there too.
The conversation was awkward. He touched my shoulder and leaned in to whisper something in my ear, making sure Lena couldn’t hear. His words left me confused and uncomfortable.
Michael’s eyes flicked to Lena, a quick appraisal, and then back to me. There was nothing more to say. Nothing either of us wanted to hear.
“Yeah,”
Michael said, his voice tighter than before. “Enjoy.”
With that, we turned and walked away, both of us silent for a moment before Lena broke it.
“What did he say?”
Lena asked as we quickly left.
I shook my head. “Nothing worth repeating.”
“God, that was awkward,”
she said, letting out a half-laugh. “But you handled that well, you know. I mean, he’s still an idiot.”
I smiled a little, feeling the familiar weight of that old tension start to ease. “Thanks. I just don’t have time for his games anymore.”
As we continued walking, the air around us felt lighter. The moment with Michael—awkward as it was—was over. Now it was time to focus on what came next. A fresh chapter, and this time, I was writing it on my terms.
After our lunch, Lena and I decided to make the most of our afternoon in Santorini. The island was too breathtaking, too full of charm, to waste even a moment. We didn’t have a strict plan—just a loose idea to wander and let the beauty of the day guide us. We popped in and out of quirky boutiques and artisan shops, laughing at the odd trinkets we found and admiring the handcrafted jewelry and ceramics. At every scenic overlook, we stopped to snap photos, the caldera and the sparkling Aegean Sea providing a backdrop that was almost too perfect to be real.
“This one’s going on the fridge,”
Lena said, holding up her phone after capturing a picture of us mid-laugh. “Proof we’re living our best lives.”
“Definitely,”
I agreed, leaning into her for another quick selfie. “And proof that we clean up well after last night’s disaster.”
Next, we stumbled upon a small local gallery tucked between two cafes. Inside, the walls were lined with vibrant paintings and intricate crafts, each piece telling its own story of the island’s history and culture. The air was quiet and still, and we lingered, letting the art sink in. The gallery owner, an older woman with a warm smile, chatted with us about the inspiration behind some of the works, her passion for Santorini’s beauty shining through every word.
Lena stopped in front of a piece depicting the island’s iconic whitewashed houses and blue-domed churches, bathed in the golden light of sunset. “We should totally get our own place here someday,”
she said, her eyes alight with possibility.
I smiled at the thought. “A little escape for when life gets too chaotic? I’d love that.”
From the gallery, we made our way down to the waterfront. The breeze off the sea was cool and refreshing, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sun-warmed stone. We found a quiet bench overlooking the waves and sat for a while, letting the sound of the water wash over us.
As the sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we reluctantly made our way back to the hotel. There was still dinner to prepare for, and the promise of another memorable evening stretched ahead of us.
While I touched up my makeup, my thoughts briefly wandered to Michael and Kenna. Their sudden reappearance still lingered at the back of my mind, a tiny shadow on an otherwise perfect day. But I pushed the thought away, reminding myself that tonight wasn’t about them. Tonight was about creating new memories, enjoying the moment, and fully embracing this fresh chapter I was writing—on my own terms.
We headed to a special restaurant recommended by Luca, Taverna Katina. It was a local gem known for its raucous atmosphere and delicious seafood. Located on a cliffside overlooking the sparkling Aegean, it’s a mix of locals and tourists, often packed with voices, laughter, and music, and always has the intoxicating smell of grilled fish and herbs in the air. The sound of live bouzouki music filled the space as couples and families sipped on ouzo, while the occasional group broke into spontaneous dancing near the center of the restaurant. It promised a unique dining experience, and we were excited. Just minutes after being seated and not even finished with our first glass of wine, Michael and Kenna were sat at a table close by.
I wondered if Luca had any pull to have them removed. I was joking, but maybe not a hundred percent.
“Put on your big girl panties,”
Lena said, referring to my very sexy dress. “We’re going to have fun, and no one is going to ruin that.”
The night progressed wonderfully. Lena was the center of attention, making the night bigger than imaginable. She led the way to a fun time, dancing with older men who were regulars or maybe even owners of the place. It didn’t matter; they loved her energy. She was like this everywhere we went.
At one point, a chef started tossing sautéed shrimp for her to catch with her mouth. She didn’t miss a single one and didn’t spill anything on her white dress. I marveled at how she always looked amazing while I usually felt awkward. But tonight, we both beamed and carried the party.
At one point, Lena raised her glass, her smile mischievous. “To our incredible ability to skinny dip, party like pros, and still manage to make it back to the right hotel with all our belongings,” she said.
I laughed, clinking my glass against hers. “And to avoiding disaster every step of the way.”
Michael and Kenna eventually let go of their tension and enjoyed the night. We exchanged a few snarky comments, but I was never okay with making Kenna feel uncomfortable. It was never her issue, it was a Michael issue. I noticed that they actually looked kind of cute together, but I remembered what he whispered in my ear like a pervert, telling me that he knows exactly what is under that tiny little dress and was imagining it right now. Gross.
I almost felt angry at myself in that moment for being with such a nasty guy who would say that to an ex while his girlfriend was only ten feet away. Not my problem anymore. Not my business.
By the end of the night, we were exhausted but happy. Our feet were sore from dancing and our cheeks hurt from smiling. As we made our way back to the hotel, I looked at my phone with the intention of texting Luca, sharing the highlights of our night and thanking him for the restaurant recommendation, but there was a text waiting from him that somehow I missed.
Luca: Excited to see you tomorrow.
Swoon…
In that moment, I realized that I could fully embrace this European way of living. I could be this cool, carefree, and happy woman. Life was too short to be anything but that.
By the time we returned to the hotel, the sky was a velvety black, dotted with stars that seemed impossibly bright. The waves crashed rhythmically against the rocks below, the sound a soothing melody that followed us as we kicked off our shoes and stepped out onto the balcony.
Lena sighed contentedly, leaning against the railing. “Today was perfect, you know? Even with the Michael drama.”
I nodded, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the wine. “Yeah, it really was. Being here, with you, it’s like… everything else fades away. Nothing else matters.”
She turned to me, her face softening. “We’ve been through a lot together, Charlie. I mean, seriously, who else would put up with my antics?”
I grinned. “Please. You’re a saint for dealing with mine.”
We stayed out there a little longer, talking about nothing in particular, letting the night wrap us in its quiet comfort. When we finally made our way inside, we both collapsed onto our beds, the exhaustion of the day catching up with us.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, a thought struck me: the annoying coincidences, the unexpected run-ins, even the chaos of the last few days—they didn’t matter. What mattered was this—true, unshakable companionship. Lena was my constant, my anchor, the one who reminded me to laugh when things got too serious and to live boldly when I started holding back.
I turned my head to glance at her. She was already half-asleep, her breathing even, her face peaceful.
“Hey, Lena,”
I whispered, even though I knew she probably wouldn’t hear me. “Thanks for being my person.”
Her soft mumble in response—something about breakfast plans—made me smile.
The waves outside continued their steady rhythm, lulling us both into contented silence. Whatever tomorrow brought, I knew one thing for sure: as long as I had her, nothing could spoil the paradise we’d created for ourselves.