Love Me One More Time by Laura Burton

Chapter 6

When we reach Sanctum airspace, I look out the window and catch a glimpse of the tropical paradise waiting for us. There are tall palm trees swaying in the wind, their wide leaves waving in the sea breeze. A collection of sandy-colored buildings sits in a uniform crescent shape around a ridiculously big pool that sparkles blue in the sunshine.

It’s a private island with a resort for family use only. They have over five hundred staff employed to maintain the resort all year round.

I suddenly have the jitters.

“Just how many of your extended family will be here this weekend?” I really wanted to sound mildly curious, but the question comes out sounding panic-stricken instead. Too many to count.

Carter gives me a guilty smile. “All of them.”

I stare at him. “All?” I feel my lungs deflate. “You mean, the whole family?”

Carter blushes. “Yes, and it’s grown a bit since you last met them.”

I’ll bet. The last time I met all of Carter’s family was not too long before we broke up. In fact, it was the last time I saw his mother that led to our breakup.

At that time, there were more than fifty cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and kids. I guess a whole bunch of those kids are now adults, possibly with kids of their own too.

“I thought we were just pretending for your grandma?” I ask. Carter hums. “Okay, well… look. My mom knows about the act. But everyone else thinks we got back together. My aunts wouldn’t be able to keep a secret if their lives depended on it. So we’re better off just keeping it between us and playing the part.”

The plane lands on the tiny runway with a jolt and I grip the arm rests of my seat. “Sure thing. No problem.”

Surprisingly, my mom stays quiet as we collect our belongings and climb out onto the steps. A salty wind slaps my cheeks like the universe is trying to knock some sense into me. But nothing can take away my resolve.

Carter leads the way to a golf cart, and my mom and I exchange looks before climbing into it.

We zoom down a perfectly paved road all the way to the main building, where Carter jumps off the golf cart to speak to a man in a crisp suit. Island music plays softly from outdoor speakers and I half expect someone to come out with coconut drinks and leis.

Carter takes my hand.

The touch is so unexpected; I nearly jump out of my skin. But I take a deep breath to steady myself, count back from one hundred, and squeeze his hand.

Relax, Zoe. It’s showtime.

When Carter and I walk inside, an explosion of giddy voices smacks me like a frying pan to the face. “Carter, baby! Come and say hello to your aunties!”

Carter, baby. There is only one person who insists on calling him by his childhood nickname. And it’s the one person I’m least excited to see again.

A mature woman throws her arms around Carter’s shoulders and plants kisses on his cheeks. He won’t let go of my hand though, it’s in a vice lock. I’m forced to stand aside and watch him be smothered by his mother.

When she breaks away from him, she licks her thumb and wipes the red lipstick marks from his face. “Ruby, Coral, Avis! Come see my boy.”

She motions to three tall ladies wearing oversized lashes, all sporting the same shade of mauve lipstick. They move forward, grab various parts of Carter’s arms, and start cooing like birds. No one pays any attention to me and my mom. I flex my fingers, trying to break free of Carter. Instead of letting me go, he lurches back from his family and clears his throat.

“Mom. Aunties. You already know Zoe. This is her mom, Debbie.”

Three nearly-identical faces swivel like owls in my direction. Their wiry hairdos are curled and set with far too much hairspray. I offer my stage smile and a small wave with my free hand. There’s a beat of silence, but just before the awkwardness can really set in, the three ladies cry out with delight and pull me and Mom in for a group hug.

“I’m so happy you two got back together.”

“I told Carter he wasn’t going to do any better than you.”

“Congratulations on the success! I saw you in USA Money last month!”

The only person who doesn’t come in for a hug is Carter’s mom, who stands off to the side with her arms crossed on her slender form. Her long red nails, pointed like claws, tap her forearm.

I glance at her, and resist the urge to laugh at the sight of her narrowed eyes and pursed lips. I see she still hates me.

A cough diverts my attention from Carter’s mom. I turn to look at my own. She has her arms crossed too, and is matching Carter’s mom’s steely glare with one of her own.

“What do you think you’re doing, looking at my daughter like that?” my mom asks sharply. She sounds far too irate, considering the fact that we just arrived on their family island. Besides, this is totally out of character for her. She’s normally so soft-spoken. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the laugh threatening to erupt.

Carter’s mom relaxes her expression with some effort, and looks at mine with a fake smile. “I just have this terrible headache coming on.” She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. My mom drops her hands with an “Oh.”

But then Carter’s mom sneaks a snide look at her sisters and my fingers twitch against the urge to slap her right across the face.

There’s something about Carter’s mom that always drove me crazy… I can’t put my finger on what it was exactly. There’s the way her upper lip curls when she smiles while her eyes stay dead. And that grating laugh that sounds like a woodpecker on a tree. Or those passive aggressive comments she makes––like, “Zoe, haven’t you got such curly hair? Too bad it gets so frizzy in this humid heat.” Or, “That’s a beautiful dress, Zoe, too bad it shows off your rolls. Let me buy you some shapewear, it’ll change your life.”

It’s probably a combination of all those things… And more.

Her hazel eyes drop to my hand in Carter’s, go wide, and flash in anger. But before she can open her mouth––probably to say get your paws off my son in a diplomatic way ––the glass doors open and a nurse pushes in an old lady in a wheelchair.

As soon as she enters the lobby, the mood shifts, and Carter’s aunts begin to coo again. “Ivy, what are you doing out of bed?”

Carter yanks on my hand and I close the space between us, slinking my arm around his back.

“Hi Grandma!” Carter says, leaning forward to kiss the lady on the cheek. I look over my shoulder at Carter’s mom and see small veins pop out between her brows.

“Hello, dear. Very good to see you, Carter. Very good,” the old lady says, patting him on the cheek. Then she leans to the side and makes eye contact with me. “Zoe, is that really you? I’m so delighted to see you. Come here, darling!”

I inhale deeply, pray for courage, and approach Carter’s grandma. She places a cool hand on the side of my neck. Her eyes are glassy. “How are the wedding plans going? Do you have a date yet?”

I freeze under her gentle stare. Carter’s mom’s scowl made me laugh, but the warmth and anticipation in his grandma’s eyes is heartbreaking.

“The wedding plans?”

The old lady nods, her wispy white curls bouncing, and she looks up at me with flushed cheeks. The wrinkled hand on my neck starts to tremble and I bite my lip. I’m on the brink of trembling myself.

I can’t do this. I can’t lie to this woman.

But I also cannot make myself tell her the bitter truth. Especially knowing that she’ll likely forget in ten minutes and I’ll have to break her heart over and over again.

Unable to speak, I turn to Carter. The whites of his eyes are on show as he stares at me, unblinking.

I can almost hear his silent scream: Say something! Anything!

The awkwardness is like a noose tightening around my neck. My mom steps forward, probably realizing I’m frozen.

“They’re going great,” she says. She claps her hands and it breaks me out of my trance. “As soon as they have a date, I’m sure you’ll be the first to know.”

Carter’s grandma drops her hand and I back away to let my mom approach, my heart aching. Pretending to be engaged to Carter is one thing, but talk of wedding plans pokes a wound I thought had healed over for good.

There was a time we talked about a wedding.

It was going to be at Sanctum, on sandy shores with the warm foamy water rolling in, surrounded by lush green trees.

Carter was going to wear a tan suit, without a jacket. We’d both be barefoot, and my flowers were going to be white freesias, roses, and oriental lilies.

Carter’s dad was going to walk me down the aisle.

But Carter’s dad died before Carter’s college graduation. It was a downward spiral after that.

I blink furiously, trying to dislodge the imaginary wedding from my mind, but it stays put, and giant tears fall down my cheeks instead. “Hey.” A hand takes my arm and a raspy whisper tickles my cheek. I turn my head and look right into Carter’s eyes. Neither of us speaks. He searches my eyes, nods like we just had a serious conversation, and then does the most unexpected thing.

He picks me up in his arms like he’s about to cross the threshold of his mansion with his new wife.

“Excuse me, but I need to take my fiancée to our room,” he announces proudly. I can’t tell who looks more furious––my mom, or Carter’s. Neither one of them says a word. Carter’s grandma holds her hands up to her own cheeks and sighs. “Young love. I remember it so well.”

Carter carries me out of the lobby, and even after we’re out of sight, he cradles me. “You can put me down now,” I say, giving him a light nudge, trying to act cool.

Carter rounds the corner, pulls a card from his pocket, and holds it up to the door. There’s a click, and the door swings open. Now he lowers me to the ground. He probably thinks actually carrying me across a threshold would be going too far.

I walk into the suite carrying whatever is left of my self-control, and manage to hold back fresh tears with a sniff. The door clicks shut and Carter heaves a big sigh.

“I’m so sorry. I should never have asked you to do this for me.”

He’s apologizing to me?

I hold myself, like the action is the only thing that’ll keep my resolve from crumbling. I can’t let him walk around thinking he’s the bad guy and I’m just some innocent saint doing everything for the welfare of others.

I’m not my mom.

“I’ll be honest, Carter, my reasons for coming here weren’t entirely altruistic.”

I twist my hair around my finger and perch on the edge of the super-king bed. Carter joins me, curious. “Oh?”

I give him one last look, wondering if I should tell him the truth or not. The odds are someone will tell him about the scandal. He should hear about it from me.

I look around the room. There’s a leather couch and a desk chair by a hardwood coffee table. Wine glasses are stacked like a sparkly tower on the white granite breakfast bar.

I find the TV remote sitting on the chest of drawers and click it.

I only have to change the channel a couple of times before my own face stares back at me.

As expected, there’s another news feature on my speech at the private school. This time, they put together a montage of reactions from people within the wellness industry.

“Why do you think Zoe Walsh has chosen this time to speak out against the industry as a whole?”

“Well, Ted. I think it’s very clear that Zoe is suffering from burnout. She thought she was doing all of the right things, but she forgot about balance. She needs to cleanse her chakras and make some positive changes to remove the toxicity in her life and start afresh.”

I roll my eyes as the reporter asks another “expert” to discuss my breakdown (as they’re calling it.)

“It is rumored that Zoe has gone abroad for respite. She has likely checked into a wellness resort and it is our hope that when she returns, she will be rejuvenated, reborn even. Because there’s no doubting the fact that everything she has coached us on in the past is true.”

I turn off the TV and there’s a heavy silence. “I came here because I needed to get away from that.”

Carter stares at the screen intently. I look at it again to check that the TV is off.

“What are they talking about? What speech?” Carter says finally.

I guess he really didn’t know anything about this. Either that or he’s an amazing liar.

“It’s all over YouTube,” I admit. “I’m sorry if this causes a problem for you.”

“Problem?” Carter cocks his head to the side.

“Well, yes. With your family. You know how they are about reputation.”

Just saying it strikes a nerve. Reputation. Oh, how that was drummed into me when Carter and I were dating. The memory of that last talk with his mom sneaks into my mind, but I bury it. I’m not ready to relive that day.

Not here. Not now.

Not ever.

“Thank you for telling me,” Carter says. He places a hand on my leg like he’s done a thousand times before.

These days, his touches leave a burn.

Carter carries on, unaware of my thoughts. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. The press can get pretty intense. And I’m glad helping me out helps you too. It makes me feel a lot less like a jerk.”

I wish Carter was a jerk. It would make all of this so much easier. The fact that he’s the total opposite of a jerk makes this entire act extremely painful.

He leans in.

For one wildly intense moment, I wonder if he’s about to kiss me. He’s not.

He leans back, and tension immediately leaves my shoulders.

“I’ll try to protect you from getting grilled by the rest of the family,” he says.

“I appreciate that,” I reply, smirking. “Now, on the plane you mentioned something about a massage for me and my mom?”

Carter’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.

“Right. Let the pampering commence!”