It was the kind of view that made you want to write poetry or burn your old life down and begin again, although one might argue that was exactly what I was doing.
I exhaled, the sigh carrying on the morning breeze.
Since leaving DC, I’d been floating somewhere between freedom and another feeling I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe regret that I’d wasted my prime years yearning for something that didn’t exist or the fact that I couldn’t scream from the top of my lungs that Jacqueline was a murderous bitch and needed to be ended.
But then, could I really end her? I was a doctor, and the Hippocratic oath was about saving lives, not eliminating them.
Damn Jonathan. Damn his ex-wife. And damn me for thinking it was okay to give it another go.
A scooter buzzed faintly down the hill, the sound slowly fading while the town came alive with fishermen shouting as they unloaded the day’s catch.
My phone buzzed in my lap. Seeing it was Violet, not my cousinwho was needlessly worrying about me, I smiled and slid open the message.
Violet: Still in Albania?
Me: If you’d check our location sharing, you’d know the answer to that.
I watched bubbles appear, then disappear, only to reappear again.
Violet: That’s too much work. Just tell me.
I chuckled.
Me: Yes, I’m still in Albania. How is Greece?
Violet’s answer was vague.
Violet:
Before I could question her about the emojis, another message appeared.
Violet: Got to go. Talk later.
I sighed, wishing our conversation had gone a bit further. Yes, I could call Kristoff, but it was the middle of the night there and he’d sniff out the loneliness in me, then fly out here to demand I return home.
That fateful autumn night that started it all entered my mind, and though the morning was already warm, I tugged my cardigan tighter around me.
“I’m not going there,” I muttered, standing up abruptly. I was startled to see a lizard sunning itself on the railing, scaring him too. “Ugh. Sorry, buddy.”
But he was already gone.
I let out a heavy sigh, realizing my loneliness had me talking to lizards despite the fact that I was terrified of reptiles.
A swim would fix me. I heard saltwater healed everything.
Five minutes later, with my beach bag swung over my shoulder, I followed a narrow, winding path carved into the cliffs all the way down to the little beach. With each step, the sound of waves grew louder.
The cove came into view, the sand golden, soft, and perfect.
There were only two umbrellas in the middle of the beach with two lounge chairs, casting the kind of shade my complexion demanded.
I dropped my bag beside a vacant chair and let myself fall into it, tilting my face toward the sea while I slathered on sunscreen.
Being a fair-skinned redhead was a bitch sometimes.
“They knew what they were talking about,” I muttered to myself, thinking back to the hotel staff that had insisted I visit the beach on the other side of the cliff. I couldn’t believe none of the other locals were here, because this beach was by far superior already.
Done with my sunscreen, I dug out my book and flopped on the chair, then lifted my knees slightly to balance the book on them.
