beautifully trapped
MARLEY
Othello barely says a word to me down the corridors, in the elevator, or as we follow the stone pathways leading to a hidden garden-like clearing behind the resort. I assume it’s because of my mood, so I welcome the silence.
I don’t know how I feel walking into yet another fanciful event with this lie painted on me like a scarlet letter. Every glance I get feels loaded. As if everyone can see the real me and not who I’ve been pretending to be.
I want to go back to the suite and wallow in my misery. But the only thing keeping me here is the possibility that Collette hasn't completely given up on me yet.
This is me being optimistic and looking on the “bright side.”
The outdoor rehearsal dinner looks every bit Hawaiian, with its towering palms and tropical flower arrangements. As we eat our meal served in hollowed-out pineapples, fire dancers perform on a wooden platform.
Everyone is in a great mood tonight. But it’s hard not to be, considering Jerome and Collette went all out planning this massive week of events.
Dozens of round tables litter the lawn, all angling toward the head table where Gavin and Carina sit enthroned with their bridal party.
I sit at a table nearby, wedged tightly between Patricia, who has been aggressively thrusting an iPad of grandkid photos into my personal space, and Rick, who hasn't stopped talking about deep-sea fishing since appetizers.
This is the first time I've felt truly alone since I've been here. Isolated. The music and laughter swell all around me, but it feels miles away.
Collette hasn’t looked at me once since I sat down.
And I can’t stop myself from stealing glances across the way at Othello.
Whenever our eyes do manage to meet, he gives me a lingering look paired with a faint, half-smile.
It’s a far cry from his usual genuine grin or the playful wink that always used to make my insides flutter.
He’s in a mood. I can see this. It’s so visibly etched across his handsome face.
Is it my mood making him this way? Or is it something else?
I should probably talk to him. Let him know that what I’m feeling has nothing to do with him.
I don’t even understand how he doesn’t understand why I’d be spiraling right now.
As if Mod hadn’t already been set back with our numbers or lack thereof, now we’d have to truly scramble for a cover release story.
I’m not trying to be dramatic, but too much is riding on this for me to just not care.
“Did I show you Ava’s recital?” Patricia asks, her frail finger shaking as she presses the screen for the infamous photo gallery again. Before I even have a chance to look, I take my cloth napkin from my lap and dab the corners of my mouth.
“You know, I’m not feeling too well. I’ll be right back,” I tell her kindly and rise from the table.
I don’t wait for Patricia’s response. I just turn and walk away, my heels sinking slightly into the pristine, manicured grass.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I just know I need to get away from here.
From the celebratory vibes I’m not feeling, Collette’s cold shoulder, and Othello’s distant eyes.
Looking on the bright side is out the window.
I finally make it back inside the resort, walking down the corridors, with my heels clicking across the marble floors. It’s not long before I hear another set of footsteps echo behind me.
“Marley, wait,” Othello’s voice calls out.
I don’t know if it’s the fact that he followed me or how overwhelmed I am by everything that’s happened this week that makes tears prick the back of my eyes. They don’t fall. They sit there, burning hot with embarrassment.
“Marley,” he calls out again, and this time I freeze, turning slowly to see the concern in his eyes, and this time my tears do fall. Othello closes the distance between us, his eyes searching mine.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” I say, startling myself with the revelation. The decision comes with an unexpected sense of relief. There is nothing else for me to do here. I'll catch an early flight back to Savannah and figure out what comes next once I'm back in the comfort of my own home.
“Home? You’re not supposed to fly out until Sunday.”
“Well, plans have changed." I force a hollow laugh. "I mean, it wouldn’t be my Maui vacation if things went according to schedule, right?” I turn away, moving towards the elevators, Othello hot on my heels.
“Come on, Marley, don’t be like that?”
“Like what?”
I jab my finger on the up button and wrap my arms around myself, my foot tapping impatiently against the floor.
“Hey,” he says, turning me to look at him. His eyes are a mixture of anger and deep, raw pain. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“This week. And how it’s been an uncomfortable obligation to you.”
I pause, not missing that underlying tone.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I just want to remove myself before things get any worse."
"Worse for who? For you? Or for your magazine?"
The elevator doors open, and we step on.
“Why do I feel like you’re speaking to me in code? What is it that you want to say?” I argue.
“All for nothing.”
I’m still clueless as Othello’s eyes bore into me. The elevator stops, but not on our floor. A group of guys gets on, loud and excited about whatever they’re going on about. My mind is too busy replaying Othello’s words.
All for nothing.
What the hell is he even talking about?
The elevator climbs higher. The men trade jokes and stories, their voices filling every inch of the cramped space. When the lift gets to their stop, the guys spill out into the hallway, leaving Othello and me alone once again.
“Are you mad at me about something?”
“Tell me I was wrong about what I heard.”
The elevator dings, finally letting us out on our floor. I move swiftly, Othello keeping up with my pace.
“What did you hear?” I ask, genuinely confused.
Othello steps in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.
“You said it was all for nothing. Everything we did. All of it.”
I blink, my mind racing backward, trying to figure out when I said that and why.
“Was the only reason you wanted to continue fake dating so you could get closer to Collette and Carina for this story? And now that the exclusive is a no-go, you're realizing you put up with me all for nothing.”
When it hits, I let out an exasperated sigh. This is why he was being so moody towards me?
“Ohmigod, Othello, no. I didn’t mean it that way.”
I drop my head, frustration and humiliation blooming on my face.
“I meant that all of the work I've put into this week was for nothing,” I say, looking up at him with sincerity.
“Putting up with Carina and her rude friends. Rearranging my entire trip to attend all these wedding events. Sacrificing my sleep and sanity because I’m getting emotionally invested in drama.
All of that just to end up losing an incredible story. That's what I meant."
I watch the realization hit him like a splash of ice water, draining the anger straight out of his posture. His shoulders slump, and he shakes his head.
“What I said had nothing to do with you, Othello. You are the one good thing that came out of this mess.”
Othello comes closer. I can see the relief washing over him, but his eyes still don’t meet mine. "I'm sorry. I... damn, I’m so sorry."
I shake my head.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I panicked and let my insecurities doubt you.” His gaze finally finds mine, his dark brown eyes begging for forgiveness. “You gave me no reason to think that about you, and I did anyway. That wasn't fair."
Othello steps closer, his large hands coming up to cup my face just as a woman walks past, giving us an odd look. But his focus is on me and nothing else.
“I don’t want you to leave.” He tells me, his thumbs sweeping across my cheekbones.
“I don’t want to be here.”
“So that’s it?” he asks quietly. “The lie falls apart, and suddenly there's no reason to stay?”
A shiver shoots straight down my spine.
“Othello…” I breathe, my eyes dropping to his lips before snapping back to his dark gaze. The frustration I felt a second ago completely evaporates, replaced by a sudden, dizzying heat.
“I’m not upset with you,” I tell him. My voice is barely above a whisper. “Today has just been a very bad day for me.”
His mouth moves to my face and brushes a kiss over a fallen tear. His lips linger against my skin until my eyes fall shut. My heart is beating like mad, thumping so hard against my ribcage I’m certain he can feel it too.
“Then let me have the bad days with you,” he murmurs.
I stare into his eyes, astonished, and wondering who the hell this man is. Where did he come from? Who sent him? Why was he so good to me?
Othello wraps me in a warm embrace, and I sink into him like an exhale. He kisses me right there in the hallway, and I kiss him back with everything I have in me. I never want this moment to end.
There is no more pretending. The rules are out the window, and the illusion has shattered. I am completely, beautifully trapped in the truth of him.