The Paradise Problem (85)
This lands a crushing weight in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
Instead of turning toward the bungalow, Anna lets go of my hand and walks straight out to the water, wading in a few yards, until the gentle waves reach her knees. I’m not sure if she needs a moment alone or not, but when she speaks again, it’s quietly enough that I have to follow, letting the water wash over my shins.
“What did you say?”
“I sold my paintings,” she says.
Warmth bleeds into my limbs. Holy fuck, I’d wondered if that had been the call that had sent her up and away from the table. “Anna—yes!”
“All three of them at the exhibit.”
Her joy is palpable, and if it were any other moment, I would be lifting her in the air, spinning her in my arms, joking that no virgin sacrifices were required. “That’s—that’s amazing.”
“Yeah.”
A gull calls overhead, and at the sound of her flat, defeated tone, I lean forward to get a good look at her face. “You don’t look happy.”
“I am. I’m thrilled.” She turns her watery brown eyes up to me. “But it’s depressing, you know? To feel such a victory over a few thousand dollars. The champagne at breakfast was probably more than that.”
I shake my head. “That isn’t—that’s not the point.” Stepping in front of her, I cup her face. “Your paintings—”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy. It means something huge for me. Even if it’s just a start, it’s wonderful. And I’m not so naive as to think there aren’t enormous divides in income around this world, but I’ve never been so squarely confronted with it. The past three years have been so hard, not knowing, with all the bills….” She swallows, shaking her head and giving me a weak smile. “I just needed a few fall-apart minutes.”
I nod and bend, resting my lips on hers. When I pull back, it’s only so I can meet her eyes. At this moment, we are the only two people on the island. Does she feel that, too? I want to transport her away from here. “Take as many fall-apart minutes as you need.”
“I really do want to enjoy the wedding today,” she says, wiping her face and working to compose herself. “I want to finish what we came here to do. I want to absorb the beauty of this amazing place. I want to let myself enjoy whatever else it has to offer before I leave and return to a life that is wonderful even if it’s sometimes hard.”
I kiss her again. “This is a perfect goal. We’re almost done. We’ll go relax in the bungalow, get changed, attend the wedding, and duck out as early as we can. Tomorrow we can skip the brunch. Tomorrow afternoon, we head home. We’ll leave this beautiful island and the mess of my family behind.”
Anna nods in my hands and stretches to kiss me. “I adore this island. I hate the mess. But I really, really, really like you.”
I smile against her lips. “I really, really, really like you, too.”
* * *
IN THE FINAL FEW minutes before we leave for the wedding, I walk out to the balcony, wanting to soak up the view. For as mortifying as my family has been, the island truly is paradise, and being here with Anna has been one of the most wonderful experiences of my lifetime. After breakfast, we napped for a few hours, then lazily roused ourselves, making love and showering. But our mood dipped again as we began the slow march toward today’s main event. I know I should be happy—it’s my sister’s wedding—but mostly I just want to get it over with. And when I hear Anna’s footsteps approaching, my first thought is that it didn’t take her very long to get ready. My second thought is that I’m glad; she should treat today as a formality.
My third thought… well, actually, I don’t have a third thought. Because when I turn and see her, my brain empties, my body ignites.
Anna has worn tiny minidresses, slinky silk gowns, and low-cut evening dresses that sent my mind racing down filthy tracks. But this dress isn’t anything like that. While other women will likely be wearing muted lace, beachy neutrals, conservative chiffon, Anna’s dress is a statement. The one-shouldered silk gown is softly pleated, with bright teal at the top that transitions into blue, then purple, then into a flowing skirt of pink and orange, ending at her feet with a brilliant, flaming crimson.
Go ahead and look, it says. Stare.
Speechless, I approach, cupping her shoulders and sending my hands down her long, soft arms. I bend, kissing her bare shoulder. When I close my eyes, I feel momentarily dizzy. It’s too soon to feel what I’m feeling, but I let it wash through me anyway, because it solidifies my resolve to get this precious woman out of here as soon as humanly possible.
* * *
I KNOW HOW MUCH money my family has. In abstract terms, at least, I know that it is in the billions. Alex got a Lamborghini Gallardo for his eighteenth birthday; Charlie got a Friesian horse from the tooth fairy. Hell, she got two whole houses as wedding gifts. And without really batting an eye, I agreed to pay Anna a hundred thousand dollars to tell a lie.
I know the absurdity; I can see it, even if sometimes only in theory.
But the scale of this wedding is unbelievable even to me. Along the path to the black sand cove, every tree drips with garlands of pearls, crystals, and tiny twinkling lights. Delicate glass chandeliers tinkle from the branches of mangrove trees that sway along to the ocean’s gentle rhythm. Swags of bamboo and layers of lush greenery drape every chair; columns are topped with towering vases of white king protea, cream roses, and orchids, more strands of sparkling crystal spilling from their lips.