Feels like a long shot, even at twenty-one. I know I’m still young, but I also feel jaded in a way I’m not sure would benefit an attempt at a healthy relationship someday.
I’ve been too hurt. Experienced too much.
I psych myself out of any sort of happiness before I even take a chance to entertain it and find out. It’s my biggest downfall.
And as much as I hate to admit, I’m the queen of taking self-sabotage and making it my whole personality.
“I’m just gonna…go,” I draw out awkwardly before scurrying to the door. I’ve prolonged this enough. All Manny does is nod, and it’s better that way. I exhale a deep breath as the hotel room door closes behind me and my eyes fall shut.
Another night. Another conquest.
This is getting old, Cove.
Gathering myself together, I swing my head down the halls, hoping no one sees me fall victim to the dreaded walk of shame. I guess it’s my lucky day because it’s a ghost town on this floor at eight in the morning. My heels clack against the marble flooring as I make my way toward the elevators, absentmindedly pulling my phone out to text Betsy and find out where they are.
I’m alive. Not that you CARE. I’m also starving. Bartender fucked me and forgot to feed me. What kind of gentleman act is that?
Knowing I likely won’t hear from her for a while, I slip my phone into my purse and wait in the elevator as I descend to the lobby. The moment the doors open, I’m hitwith the overwhelming smell of tranquility mixed with coastal luxury.
I’m not sure what it is about expensive hotels and resorts, but they all smell the same. Like perfume and cleaning products made a baby, fumigating the air enough to bomb all who enter.
Yet, somehow, it still smells pleasing? Make it make sense.
Around me, the lobby appears more packed than the halls upstairs, with visitors both arriving and leaving. Suitcases roll along the marbled flooring, and bellhops assist where they’re needed, pocketing tips left and right.
I’ve been to Key West a few times in my life, my mother taking me as a child for vacation occasionally. But I wouldn’t exactly consider myself equipped to know my way around without directions.
Despite knowing how I look, I hang left near the main lobby and head toward the guest services counter, tucking myself away enough not to block the incoming visitors. A flight must have just landed because nearly five sleek black cars arrive at the front entrance, ushering their guests into the hotel and securing their bags.
I need to find directions to the nearest coffee shop and slip out as fast as humanly possible. Betsy’s text comes through just before the man in front of me in line finishes up with the representative.
Betsy:
Trying to understand a man is like teaching a cat to bark. Useless and disappointing. Meet us @ Sailor Mug.
I’m gonna take a guess and say Sailor Mug is a coffee shop?
The man in front of me dismisses the woman behindthe counter, and I take that as my sign to approach. “Good morning. How can I help you?” she asks kindly. But I can’t focus. It’s as if my body, my mind, my life, reverts back in time.
I freeze.
Because the sound of a voice I could never forget, no matter how hard I try, the same one that haunts all my favorite memories, steals my attention.
As if on instinct, I close my eyes. I know what I’ll find once I open them, and sadly, I’m not sure how I’ll respond. I never thought about how I’d handle this happening. But in Key West, of all places?
Will I run? Will I break down and finally let myself cry? Or will I get mad?
“Ma’am?”
“Just a moment, please,” I tell the woman, unsteadiness in my voice.
I need…just a moment.Open your eyes, Cove.
I turn around, and the same paralyzing sickness I experienced twelve years ago sends shockwaves throughout my body the moment I become aware.
Because there he is, stepping out of one of those sleek, expensive cars I clocked immediately and striding into the hotel like he owns the place, flanked by two people I refuse to acknowledge until I’m absolutely sure it’s him.
But I know. How could I not remember the man I once believed was my personal superhero?
