Page 2 of The Getaway

It was like taking off a set of VR goggles and figuring out what life actually was.

“Ads,” I whisper to my sister but pause, unsure of what to say, and squeeze my eyes shut.

With Paul, every day was the same.

I went to work for a successful company that helps businesses come back from the edge of failure. I’ve gotten every promotion that I applied for and have worked my way up the company ladder for the past six years. At the end of every day, I came home to have dinner with Paul before heading to my office to continue working.

Then that box was opened, and I realized just how numb to life I had become.

The only joy I’ve felt in the longest time was when it came to this trip.

Paul didn’t care where we went or what we did. Hell, he even told me we didn’t have to go on a honeymoon since he knew getting time off work might be difficult.

But I wanted… no… I needed this vacation.

I’m the one who planned everything. This was my dream honeymoon, from excursions to massages, it was all booked and paid for. All we had to do was show up.

Shaking my head, I push away thoughts about my disastrous life, choosing to focus on getting up and zipping my suitcase shut.

At my sister’s silence, I try explaining myself one last time.

“Addison, aside from the financial loss that I would be taking, I need this. My life has been complete chaos since I called off the wedding. I’ve been trying to separate everything Paul and I had, add in all the calls and emails that I’ve had to send to cancel everything we booked for the wedding… I’m fucking exhausted.”

I tip my head back, focusing on the random lines and splotches that make up the white popcorn ceiling to help hold back the tears. I’ve shed enough of those since everything went up in flames a few weeks ago.

“I’ve spent the last six years of my life working nonstop and have based all my life decisions on the wants and needs of someone else. Going on this trip is something that I decided for myself. I deserve this!”

“Of course, you do, Bri. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” She lets out a loud huff. “It’s the fact that you’re going to the Caribbean alone. Hell, the only reason you left the state of South Carolina was because you got a job in New York!”

She’s not wrong. My travel experience is extremely limited. But it does make me feel marginally better that she thinks I’m being irrational for traveling alone and not because I’m still going on a vacation that was meant for me and my ex-fiancé.

Our younger brother, Tommy, called me a few days ago and gave me an ear full for going. He thinks I’m “hijacking this trip” and by the end of the call, he had been trying to convince me to ask Paul to still go with me.

Tommy was only fifteen when I started dating Paul and believes that my ex walks on water. So, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought a five-day trip on a tropical island would fix everything.

Addison sighs on the other end of the phone, pulling me away from my thoughts about how I’ve disappointed my brother.

“Look, you deserve time away. I’m just… What if Paul has the same idea as you and shows up? What if you get kidnapped and sold into an underground sex trade?”

I roll my eyes but indulge in easing her worries. “Okay, first off, he couldn’t show up if he wanted to.”

Not that he would. This whole vacation had been my plan.

I don’t give her a second to come up with another reason. Nothing she could think of would stop me from going. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is what I need to do.

“As for getting kidnapped, if some mafia boss wants to take me away while giving me everything I could ever want or need… I’ll send a private plane to come get you if he has a brother.”

That makes Addison laugh. “Bitch, you better.”

Tension eases from my shoulders as I grab my purse and take one last look around to make sure I have everything.

“In all seriousness, I have a TSA-approved can of pepper spray and will not set foot off the secure resort.” I state, snatching my keys from the hook by the door.

“I will stop sounding like mom if you promise to text me the moment you land and send me proof of life pictures at least twice a day,” she finally relents, and I smile.

“You will receive so many pictures that you’ll be yelling at me to stop because you’re so jealous of where I am.”

“I do not need pictures to be jealous. You’re not the one spending your Christmas holiday doing free labor for Ma and Pa at the vineyard,” Addison groans. “I am not ready to be stuck with our parents, Tommy, and Tuck for an entire week.”