Chapter 12
IDA
Later, we spend the evening over at the hotel with the other guests, watching a really fun cabaret of Maldivian Bodu Beru dancing and live music which then moves on to a DJ set on the beach, where everyone gets up to dance and splash about in the warm sea.
It’s a real relief to not have to fake our attraction – not that it was ever really fake – in front of all these lovely people now.
I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of lying to them about the real state of my and Raffa’s relationship.
So, it’s great to be able to spend the evening touching and kissing him, knowing he’s more than happy for me to do so.
In fact, he’s so happy with it we end up sneaking off at about midnight to head back to the villa for more sex.
We seem to be having a lot of trouble keeping our hands off each other now that we’ve smashed through the friends-only barrier.
Not that I’m complaining.
It’s hands-down the best sex I’ve ever had.
Afterwards, we go for a swim in our pool, then float on our backs in the water, staring up at the bright stars, which pepper the dark sky above us.
We wake up later than normal the following morning, so Raffa rings for our butler to bring our breakfast to the villa, which we sit and eat in my bed.
It’s like heaven here – except for the bit when Raffa excuses himself straight after eating to go and deal with some emails his office sent over while we were asleep.
I feel weirdly bereft when he’s gone.
I’m enjoying his company so much, when he’s completely present, that I’m desperate for more of it the moment he’s not with me.
Craving it, in fact.
I’m a little obsessed, I fear.
I’m also keenly aware that we’ve only got two more days here before we head home.
The idea of giving this up now is devastating. Not just the dream villa and beautiful island living, but the incredible connection that Raffa and I have established.
The more we talk, and I get to know him better, the more I’m regretting agreeing to keep this casual.
But I can’t let myself fall in love with a workaholic. I just can’t.
I’m fascinated to know what it is that’s keeping him working so obsessively hard though. I know he said it’s because he enjoys the challenge; except I can’t help but feel there’s more to it than that.
I think it must have something to do with his dad and stepfamily situation.
But am I reckless enough to broach the subject? Prying into the darkest recesses of his mind might push him away. But then maybe it’ll bring us closer if he decides he’s willing to trust me. And perhaps it’ll even help him to face whatever it is that keeps him so distant from his family.
Only one way to find out, I guess.
* * *
Raffa
‘Hey. Guess what I’ve booked for us to do today?’ Ida says as I walk into the living area, my open laptop balanced on one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
‘Don’t tell me, another side-quest?’ I say, flashing her a wry smile.
‘You got it.’
Her eyes look alive with excitement, which gives me pause.
‘And what kind of a quest is it?’ I ask cautiously.
‘Paddleboarding.’
‘Ah.’
She pouts at my lack of eagerness. ‘Come on, dude, you’re going to be old before your time if you don’t live a bit now. Think of all the fun you’re missing. We only have a couple more days here.’
After putting the laptop carefully onto the dining table, I take a contemplative sip of my coffee.
She’s right, our time here is nearly up and I won’t get a chance to spend time with her like this again.
There’s too much going on at work and I’m planning another trip to Germany, followed by a hop to the States soon after I get back from the Maldives.
The thought of it is actually making me feel tired, I realise. So maybe I should get one more day of R and R in now, to power up for it.
‘Yeah, okay. I guess that could be fun.’
‘You know it will be, dude.’ Her smile is wide and gleeful, like she’s beaten me at something else.
I let her have that little victory.
I love making her smile.
I’m going to miss seeing it every day.
Oh man.
That’s not good.
* * *
An hour later, we’re paddling around the island on the very calm ocean, a hundred metres or so away from land.
The island looks magnificent from here. The lush greenery set against the amazing azure sky and turquoise water is giving me all the feels.
‘Question,’ Ida calls over to me as we paddle gently around the far side of the island to where our villa is.
I’m distracted for a moment as through the palm trees, I can see Darian and a group of his friends playing tennis on the clay courts. They all look like they’re having a great time. There’s certainly a lot of backslapping and joking going on, from the looks of it.
I experience a sudden strange pang of jealousy.
‘Who is it you’re trying to impress with your success?
’ she asks, drawing my attention back to her.
‘I’m asking because I think, for me, it’s my parents.
As I said, they’re both total workaholics and were always too busy to give me the kind of attention I craved when I was little so I had to be creative.
I’m weirdly grateful to them in a way. It made me who I am today.
Tenacious. Ambitious. Intriguing…’ She gives me a big, beguiling smile.
‘But I think deep down I’m still trying to finally get their attention. ’
Her confession makes me feel simultaneously grateful for her trusting me with something so personal and extremely uncomfortable at the thought of having to offer my own explanation.
I want to be able to laugh this off and be breezy about it, but an echo of my envy at seeing Darian living his best life makes this impossible. ‘Well, I can’t get my mum’s attention because she’s dead,’ I say, my voice rough.
The last word rings in the air around us, killing the relaxed vibe.
Obviously feeling this too, Ida sits down on her paddleboard, resting her oar across it, and motions for me to do the same.
I nod and copy her, taking the moment of reprieve to try to get my sudden wave of frustration at myself under control.
When I look at her again, she’s turned her board to face me and is floating a couple of feet away. The expression on her face is serious now, but her eyes are warm with compassion.
‘How old were you when you lost her?’ she asks quietly.
I pause, wondering whether I should change the subject, then shrug off the idea. There’s no way Ida’s going to leave this alone now that I’ve given her that little snippet of insight into my painful past. So I say, ‘She died when I was twelve after being really ill for a year.’
‘Oh man, that’s a really tough age for so much upheaval. And having to deal with such intense grief.’
Folding my arms, I stare off into the distance, feeling the pain that’s never fully gone away rise back to the surface again. ‘Tell me about it. I went off the rails a bit, as you’ve already heard. It drove my dad up the wall.’
‘Yeah. That must have been really tough for both of you.’
‘I guess. Honestly, I didn’t pay that much attention to him.
I was always off with my mates, staying out late and getting into low-level trouble.
I couldn’t stand being in the house without my mum there.
It smelt too much like her. Everything in it was infused with memories from when she was alive. ’
Ida nods, her brows drawn together and sympathy in her eyes.
‘When I got suspended for cutting school my dad lost it and told me my mum would have been ashamed of me for the way I was behaving. I was so hurt and so fucking furious with him – this was soon after he married Carrie – I took off for a week and didn’t contact him the whole time.
He freaked out and got the cops involved and when I finally came home he grounded me for a month.
I refused to speak to him or Carrie the whole time I was locked down and spent my evenings watching random shit on the internet.
And that’s when I saw a documentary about a guy who had started his business from having nothing and had worked his way up to making his fortune.
The thing that interested me most was him joking that the best thing about striving to be successful was that he’d had the perfect excuse not to have to interact with his deadbeat family. ’
‘Aha. Well, that’s illuminating.’
‘Once I refocussed my goals, I realised that how hard I worked and the results I got from it was the one thing I did have control over. I also discovered, like that guy, that I could bury myself in work and no one would bother me because I was studying hard for my exams.’
‘So, is it your dad’s attention you’re trying to get now then, with this drive to keep on succeeding? Are you jealous of the time he’s spent with Carrie since your mum died?’
I let out an ugly snort. ‘It’s more that I’m still pissed off with him for moving on so quickly and marrying her pretty much the minute my mum’s body was in the ground.
At least that’s what it felt like. It seemed to me he was glad she was finally dead so he could get on with his life and forget all about her. ’
Her frown deepens. ‘Ooh. That’s harsh.’
‘You think? I don’t. I think it’s just honest.’
‘Did your dad talk to you about him marrying Carrie before they did it?’
‘Not really. I certainly wasn’t given a chance to object.
It all happened really fast.’ I grip the handle of my paddle hard, seeing the tendons on the back of my hand rise in hard cords.
‘I strongly suspect there was a relationship developing between them before my mum died. It still makes me sick just thinking about it.’
Leaning forwards, she props her splayed hands onto the board in front of her and looks me dead in the eye. ‘Do you know that for sure? Or is it a guess? Have you ever asked them?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ve never said a word about it to them. I don’t want to hear their excuses.’