Chapter Thirty
I woke to the sound of gulls cawing and waves crashing, sunlight already pooling across the villa’s tile floor. The spot beside me in bed was empty, the sheets cool. The mattress didn’t seem to have any trace of an indent left by his sleeping body.
We were supposed to meet Marin for breakfast at nine. Whatever he was up to, I assumed he’d just find us there.
I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a knot, hoping the salt air would pass for styling product, and tried not to replay the argument over and over.
We’d both said things we didn’t mean, or at least things I hoped he didn’t mean.
I’d been sharp, defensive, and tired of being asked to open doors I’d long since locked.
Still, we’d gone to bed not speaking, backs turned, and that silence felt deafening now.
I checked my phone for a text from him, but there was nothing.
Walking across the resort, the sun was already hot on my skin. My eyes scanned the pool deck, the beach chairs, the bar. No Leo. At the restaurant’s entrance, I spotted Marin waving from a corner table, sunglasses atop her head, mimosa already in hand.
I slid into the seat across from her and glanced around one more time.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Has Leo been by?”
Marin took a sip from her flute and blinked. “Who?”
I gave a little laugh, unsure if she was messing with me. “Very funny. Leo. Leo! Leo?!”
Her brow creased. “Elliot, who are you talking about?”
I waited for the punch line, for the glimmer of recognition, for the slow dawning that this was a poorly timed joke. But Marin just tilted her head, puzzled, not a flicker of familiarity in her expression.
My mouth went dry. “Leo, my wedding date? My boyfriend? South African? He was at the rehearsal dinner! How do you not know who I’m talking about?!”
“I . . .” She shrugged and let out a small awkward laugh, sipping her drink again. Perhaps to fill the uncomfortable beat of silence that fell between us. “Are you sure you’re okay, El? I mean, you were pretty out of it last night. Maybe it was a dream? And you? A boyfriend?”
I stared at her. “A dream? Are you kidding me right now? No. Marin, he’s real. He’s . . . He was here. You know him. Whatever it is you’re playing at right now, it’s not funny.”
I pushed back from the table, heart pounding, and turned in a slow circle, scanning every face in the dining room. I moved quickly through the restaurant toward the front desk.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly. “Can you check if Leo Kindell is still checked in? He’s in Villa 9B with me. My name is Elliot West.”
The concierge tapped a few keys on his computer and then blinked, politely confused. “I’m sorry, ma’am, there’s no record of any guest with that name staying here.”
My vision tilted. “Of course there is. He’s . . . he’s my boyfriend and he’s been staying with me. He’s on my reservation, arrived yesterday.” My pulse was racing, and I could barely get the words out before I finally managed, “Please check again.”
He not so stealthily eyed his colleague before reentering the information as requested and then turned the monitor to face me.
“You see, no one here by that name, nor has there been over the past thirty days.” He pointed to the search fields to clarify.
The words: No Guest Found emblazoned on the screen like a verdict.
“But I . . . I don’t understand,” I stammered, still staring at the blinking cursor next to the words.
Another voice behind me called, “El, oh good, there you are.”
I turned to see Mom fanning herself with a spa pamphlet. “I wanted to tell you that hair and makeup will be coming this afternoon, so you have the morning to do what you like. Just be sure to be at the bridal suite by four o’clock. And real four, not Elliot Standard Time four.”
Dismissing the jab—because really, who was she to talk?!—I grabbed her arm, tears threatening in the corners of my eyes. “Have you seen Leo anywhere?”
Her face twisted slightly, confused and gentle, the way you look at someone who’s just lost their footing. “Um . . . who? Oh, is that the name of the cute bartender you were chatting it up with the other day?”
“No, Mom! Leo? The man I’ve been dating?”
Mom practically laughed out loud. “Leo? I—no, honey. I don’t think I’ve ever met him.
And you didn’t mention you were dating anyone .
. . not seriously. I would have offered you a plus-one.
Anyway, I’m off for a day of bridal pampering with Izzy.
I’d have asked you to join us, but after last night? I got the message loud and clear.”
With that, she turned on her espadrille and headed in the direction of the hotel spa.
So last night did happen? The rehearsal dinner, the passive-aggressive toast . . . every bit of it real, and yet somehow, none of it with Leo?
My breath turned shallow. The world moved, spinning in dizzying circles. The noise around me felt suddenly too loud, the colors too bright, like I was seeing it all from underwater.
I stumbled back, clutching the edge of the concierge desk for support. A buzz of fear filled my ears as I panic-scrolled through my phone’s camera roll.
No pictures of Leo. At least, not any recent ones that I could find.
Not from our adventure on the chocolate tour.
The selfie Leo had sent from his phone, the one Tomas had taken of us in front of the shop, was gone.
There was nothing from the Mamma Mia! show we’d gone to.
Not a single piece of evidence of any of it from the past few weeks anywhere to be found.
Just the Mykonos photos from the summer, more than six months ago. But how? How?!
No one remembered him.
No one remembered us.
And somehow, the space he’d filled felt even heavier now that it was empty.
“Miss, can I help you book any excursions for the day? You could rent a moped, maybe, to explore the island? There’s this charming little chocolate shop in town where you can make your own confections from scratch.
And a hidden beach I absolutely recommend, but don’t tell anyone I was the one who told you about it.
I only share it with our most special guests,” he added in a whisper.
“Thanks, but I’m okay. I was just . . . I’m going to . . .”
I’m going to what? Stay at the hotel and search for evidence of my missing, magical boyfriend? Try to act like any of this is remotely okay? That I’m okay?
“Morning, El.” Dad’s voice came in from the front entrance as the glass doors drew open. “I was hoping I’d catch you at breakfast, but this is even better.”
“Good morning, sir,” the front desk clerk offered with equal enthusiasm.
Dad gave a little wave and turned to me.
“Hope you didn’t schedule anything for the day just yet because I booked a private fishing excursion and was hoping you and Marin would want to join us.
I was coming here to confirm our reservation,” he said, eyeing the man behind the counter, who picked up on the request and was already typing away on his keyboard.
“Yes, sir, a party of six is scheduled to leave the dock at ten thirty a.m. Does that sound correct?”
“It does. Leaves us plenty of time to get back, relax a bit, and get ready for the ceremony. So what do you say? You in?”
“I don’t really think I’m in the right headspace for—”
“But it’s mahi-mahi! And what better way to clear your head than an afternoon on the open water?
Fresh air, tropical blue sea, it doesn’t get any better than that.
Besides, we haven’t gotten a chance to spend any real time together.
” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not taking no for an answer. ”
“Thanks, it sounds like fun, but really, I—”
Just as I was scouring my brain for a reason not to go that Dad would accept, Marin came into the lobby looking for me.
“Sheesh, woman, where did you go? I grabbed you a stack of pancakes off the buffet, but they’re like hockey pucks now. You okay?”
“Perfect timing,” Dad said to Marin. “I was just inviting you and El to join us on a family fishing trip today.”
I looked at Marin with a face that expressed in no uncertain terms that she was supposed to help me with an excuse to get out of it. One of the best things about a lifelong friend is the ability to say everything with just a glance and no words at all.
But Marin, ever the peacemaker, grinned and said, “Actually, I think that sounds lovely. El and I haven’t had a chance to enjoy the water much, and I hear they serve some killer rum punch on board.”
I shot her a glare that all but shouted Traitor! and forced a smile.
“Wonderful! See you ladies on the dock at ten thirty, sharp.”