She sat in the seat at the very end, closest to the door, before she remembered that someone was supposedly sitting here. Only for her to look at the door to find Jay holding his hand up to her, his smile kind. And she knew what his apologetic face looked like, because she’d seen it so many times already.
“I’m sorry,” he said to her.
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for anymore?” Mara asked. She was tired of this, of not understanding how he felt, and not being able to ask (because why, again?). She was tired of picturing him walking through the door, of still being lonely.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m a lot of things. But yes, I am angry,” she admitted, and a weight lifted from her, just by admitting that out loud. “Frustrated, annoyed, really, really pissed…”
Jay winced, and all the fight left Mara, her shoulders dropping.
“But I’m really happy I ran into you. All things that are true.”
He seemed relieved.
“Let me help you down.” He held a hand out for her. She took it and let him guide her down from the van, the two of them standing in the street together. Electric tricycles, other vans and cars passed by them, but it was really hard to notice when Jay was looking at her like…like he understood her. Like he could see her for all she was, and how she felt. He was sweating. And that stripe of sunscreen was still on his chin. Mara wiped it off, and she didn’t miss the way he closed his eyes at her touch. The way it made her heart skip a beat.
So maybe he hadn’t rejected her because he didn’t want her. He did. And the way she was reacting to him, the way she wanted him? The feeling was mutual.
“I think we need to talk,” he concluded. She nodded.
“You know where to find me. I’ll see you later.”
* * *
As it happened, later was in about thirty minutes. After a very painless check-in and a quick change, the vacation was officially on.
Mara was at the beach, fully protected by sunscreen, nursing a glass of complimentary ripe mango shake and holding her phone. She’d taken a quick dip in the ocean. Not long enough that her fingers got pruny, but just enough to cool her down. Her view was obscured by bamboo scaffolding that kept patrons from view of the public, but it was perfect enough for her purposes. The beach and the lounge were almost completely empty at noonish, which was understandable.
Mara wouldn’t be caught outside in the blazing heat of the too bright, too hot sun, either, but she found a lounger situated under a strategically placed palm tree, had re-slathered herself in sunscreen and kept her legs under her sarong. The key to enjoying the beach was gettingjustenough sun.
Her phone was currently playing catch-up with messages and texts—mostly questions from the team regarding the Impressionist Cosmetics tinted lip gloss launch next week. Would they be able to accommodate more students for the flower workshop? She had three hours left in her workday, and that was fine.
Over on the “Rosplenda, Rosario and Rosemary” group chat, Mabel sent a photo of a cake. It was a gorgeous cake from Caramello’s, with a creamy yellow caramel layer and roses piped expertly in buttercream.
There was no dedication, no note. Only a caption from Mabel.He bought a cake, guys. I think they’re fine na.
Nothing spelled, “Can we sweep our issues under the rug now?” better than a cake from Caramello’s. Mara sighed and laughed ruefully, shaking her head. Some days, she didn’t regret her current single situation, when it meant not having to deal with this kind of thing.
Locking her phone and leaving it on Do Not Disturb, Mara just settled in for her first round of sunbathing when something wearing a sando, a Snoopy pouch and a puka shell necklace blocked her view. Her eyes un-squinted and she looked up at the space invader.
“I have questions about the pouch,” Mara said without moving.
“It contains essentials.” Jay shrugged like it was all the explanation he needed to give. “You want a candy?”
“You know when I said I would see you later, I meant I would come to you, not the other way around.”
“You did tell my sister exactly where to find you,” he teased, and his grin turned into a soft smile. Mara’s eyes lazily drifted to his exposed collarbones, the way the sleeveless shirt hugged his trim waist. She felt a sparky, electric heat shoot up from between her legs, to her chest and back between her legs. Jay was openly staring at her lying in front of him, bikini on, her thighs and cleavage on full display. Her toes curled under her sarong to contain what her high school religion teacher called “urges of an impure nature.”
“I really can’t decide if I like the necklace.” She suddenly had to change the subject, sitting up on the recliner. “I’m getting boyband flashbacks.”
“It’s vintage 2000s, baby,” Jay chided her. Upon closer inspection, Mara clocked that he was nervous and sweaty. Sweaty she understood, but nervous, not so much. Not for Jay. “Okay, I know we need to talk. We need to talk a lot.”
“Do we?” Mara sighed. “I kind of thought we already didn’t say everything we needed to not say.”
Jay blinked, absolutely confused by the double negative. Mara couldn’t repeat that if she tried. But she was the child of two people who perpetually didn’t communicate. She learned things.
His eyes darkened. “I’m not here to talk.”
