Until—
We succeed. Every thick drip spills all over our waiting tongues. What doesn’t make it to us—oozes down his pole.
Greedy and eager we lick that up too as he grunts tumble from his panty-filled mouth.
He exhales hard, body tense, then slack.
For a second, he looks ready to pull us both up, ready to return the favor. But I shake my head slowly.
“Save it,” I whisper.
Zaria smirks. “Costa Rica.”
He pulls the lace from his mouth. Adornment hooded eyes stare back at us.
“You two are dangerous.”
We lick our lips as we stand slowly to smooth our dresses like nothing happened. I return to my seat first. Zaria follows. He adjusts himself carefully before excusing himself to the back to clean up. The cabin is calm by the time he returns. I’m curled into my seat with my Kindle open. I’m lost in a Lily S. Flowers novel like I haven’t just destabilized a man mid-flight. Zaria is dozing softly beside me.
Calil pauses in the aisle, looking between us. His lips curve slowly at the two women who can bring him to his knees before sitting down like saints.
Costa Rica is going to be interesting.
The Oxygen Jungle Villas do not look real. It looks rendered. Like someone painted paradise and then decided to let us live inside it. The villa sits high in the rainforest, glass walls stretching from floor to ceiling, so nothing separates us from thegreen canopy spilling down toward the ocean. The infinity pool disappears into the horizon where jungle melts into blue water. The air smells like salt and wet earth and flowers I’ve never seen before.
Birds call in the distance. Wind moves through palm leaves like a whisper. This experience makes me feel small in a way that isn’t about illness. It’s about awe. Zaria stands beside me on the terrace with her hair blowing around her shoulders. Calil steps up behind us, wrapping an arm around each of our waists.
“You like it?” he asks.
I laugh softly. “Like it?” I breathe. “I’ve never had the privilege of being this carefree,” I answer honestly.
My body has always required planning. Monitoring. Hydration. Medication. Caution. Even here, in paradise, I feel it. That subtle ache behind my ribs. The warning hum in my bones. A flare trying to whisper its arrival. I swallow two pills quietly before bed that first night. Increase my fluids. Rest when the fatigue creeps in. I don’t tell them immediately. I don’t want this trip defined by my body.
Not now, I tell myself. Just give me five days.
The days are magic in paradise. We tour the land with a local guide who shows us hidden waterfalls and trees older than history. We shop in native markets where handmade jewelry and woven bags line colorful stalls. We eat fresh ceviche with rice and beans seasoned in ways I’ve never tasted before.
Zaria haggles playfully in Spanish she insists she barely remembers. Calil buys too much and doesn’t care. We frolic in the ocean like we’re children. I run—actually run. Water crashing against my thighs with laughter pouring from my chest.
My body protests quietly later—but in the moment? The freedom I’ve always prayed for is within my grasp in this moment.
The final two days, we stay in. We didn’t plan any tours or excursions. No marketplaces to shop. No waterfalls to climb.
It was just us.
On the third night, we had the pleasure of Calil arranging a private chef. The villa is transformed into a Costa Rican oasis before sunset. The dining table is set on the terrace overlooking the ocean. Crisp white linen underlays scattered native Costa Rican blooms bright hibiscus, bird of paradise, orchids woven delicately through greenery. Candlelight flickers in hurricane glass lanterns.
Zaria inhales slowly. “This man is a walking breath of fresh air and romance.”
I hum my agreement softly.
The chef, a warm woman named Catalina, greets us with a soft smile and begins the five-course experience. By the time dessert arrives, the sky has melted into indigo.
Music drifts from hidden speakers. Soft Latin jazz with a steady rhythm that makes your hips sway without thinking. We dance barefoot on the terrace. The rain forest hums around us.
Zaria spins me.
Calil pulls us close. “I love you,” he says.
