Every Vow You Break(35)

“Why don’t you just tell Alec that he’s here? I mean, it’s not your fault, and it’s not like he thought you’d never had any boyfriends before he came along.”

Jill breathed in through her nose, then took a long sip of her white wine, finishing the glass. “Walk with me to the bar,” she said, standing up.

Abigail stood, still holding her untouched Baileys. The two men stopped talking and looked inquisitively at them. “We’re going to the bar,” Abigail said. “What can we get you?”

Alec and Bruce, each with a beer, declined, and Jill put her arm through Abigail’s as they walked the twenty feet toward the bar.

They stood about three feet back from the line of men waiting for drinks, and Jill said, “Sorry. I was getting paranoid that Alec could hear everything I was saying. I talk too loud when I drink. Am I talking too loud?”

“No, you’re whispering. I can barely hear you.”

“Good. Here’s the thing. I told Alec that I was a virgin when we first met. I know, I know. It’s ridiculous, but he was a virgin, at least that’s what he said, and it was very clear that he wanted me to be as well. I didn’t feel good about lying, but I did it, and then we started to get serious, and I couldn’t get out of it. And here’s the other thing—God, I can’t believe I’m telling you all this, but it feels so good. He is super-insecure about sex. It did not go well at all on our wedding night, and it’s very obvious that he, uh, feels inadequate not just in his performance, but I think he feels inadequate in his size.”

“Is he small?” Abigail asked.

“I mean, he’s not large, but what do I know? He’s fine. But if he found out that (a) I lied about never being with a guy before, and (b) that guy is here right now, and he’s the big, handsome black guy …”

“I get it. He’d fall apart.”

“He’d totally fall apart.”

“Ladies.” It was the bartender, and Jill ordered another glass of wine. Abigail thought how incredibly strange it was that the two of them were in situations that were so similar. She’d been on the verge of saying something to Jill, telling her that at least her ex-boyfriend who’d shown up wasn’t attempting to blackmail her into sex. But she stopped herself. For one, she didn’t really want to upstage her new friend, who was clearly having a bad time, and for another, she didn’t know if she wanted anyone else on this island to know about what was happening to her.

“I don’t mean to be laying all this on you,” said Jill, stepping away from the bar toward Abigail. “It’s your honeymoon, too, and —”

“No, I’m glad you told me. Look, it’s just a bad coincidence.

Nothing’s going to come of it, so just try to enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“That’s the other thing,” Jill said, taking Abigail by the arm again and leading her a little farther away from the bar. “I’m not enjoying this trip. I hate this island. It’s creepy. I feel like every move I make I’m being watched by about five staff people. They’re everywhere.

Honestly, if one more person sneaks out from behind a doorway and asks me what I want I think I’m going to scream.”

Abigail laughed. “I know what you’re saying.”

“I’m right, right? I mean, the food is good and the drinks are good and our cabin is beautiful, but seriously, I’d give it all up right now for some cheesy resort down in Cancún, with actual other fun couples around, and bad food, and a pi?a colada in a plastic cup. I just need some freakin’ sun. Look at my skin—I’m turning into a ghost.” Jill held up an arm to actually let Abigail look at it, and Abigail couldn’t help but laugh again. She felt a little bad about having judged Jill earlier for her nose job and her skinny body.

“And honestly, there’s just not enough people here, and there’s like no other women. Thank God for you. And I love the pool, but it’s actually scary in there when it’s just me by myself, or me and my ex-boyfriend.”

Abigail nodded. “Yeah, the pool is a little scary when you’re all alone.”

“Right?”

“Tell you what. Let’s go together tomorrow morning before lunch.

We’ll hang out in the grotto pool and order pi?a coladas and request that they come in plastic cups.”

“Oh my God, you are making me so happy right now. Can we really do that?”

“Of course. You and I, and I suppose we should ask the husbands to come along, too, if they want.”

“Mine won’t. Well, maybe he will if I make him do it, but he says he hates to swim. He’s lost a lot of weight recently—actually, he’s lost about a hundred and fifty pounds—and so he has some excess skin and I think he’s self-conscious about it.”

“Oh okay,” Abigail said.

“God, I’m a blabbermouth tonight. I’ve told you all my secrets and now you know pretty much everything about my husband.

Please tell me something scandalous about you so I don’t feel like a total idiot.”

Again, Abigail nearly decided to tell this stranger about her predicament, but something held her back. Instead, she said, “I think I hate this place, too. I actually called my best friend Zoe today just because I wanted to hear her voice.”