A Sip of Romance

Mari

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the plane descended toward the Queen Beatrix International Airport runway in Oranjestad, Aruba. Words can’t fully capture the emotions swirling within me right now.

But freedom is one feeling.

I left everything behind—absolutely everything. I sold it all, from my sleek condo in Chicago to every last piece of clothing and pair of shoes. I got a new phone, changed my number, and accepted a position as a Research Marine Biologist. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going or what I was doing. Honestly, I doubt they would have cared anyway.

I come from a family that only values two things: money and power. They were only interested in people who could help them gain one or the other. Take my brother, the firstborn; he was always the priority since he would carry on the family legacy. Now, he’s one of the top defense attorneys in the country, which keeps my parents tied to the wealth and influence they crave.

Then there’s my sister, the second child, and a beauty beyond comparison. She married a millionaire from the Middle East. I’m not sure what he does, but he fits their idea of success—plenty of money and more power than anyone needs.

And then there’s me: a bookworm who adores sea creatures. I wouldn’t call myself beautiful; I don’t have a rich husband, or any power. I’ve got nothing my parents desire, and I lost what little I had three months ago when my well-off boyfriend, Trevor, decided he was done with me. My parents had already ignored me throughout my life, and they were even less pleased to have me around after the breakup.

When I first met Trevor, I thought he might change everything for me. It seemed like he did for a while, but then he told me I wasn’t good enough for him and that he was finished dragging around what he called “dead weight.”

It’s hard to believe that I once thought I was truly in love with him. He seemed perfect in many ways, and I hoped he would somehow rescue me from the deep unhappiness looming over my life. For nearly two years, I devoted myself to proving that I could be everything he wanted—adaptable, supportive, and endlessly loyal. I poured my heart and soul into our relationship, often putting my own needs and desires on the back burner. Yet, despite my best efforts, it eventually became painfully clear that I still fell short of his expectations. This realization was crushing, leaving me feeling even more lost and unfulfilled than before.

When my parents discovered the news of the split, my father erupted in a torrent of rage, unleashing a barrage of insults that felt like arrows aimed straight at my heart. Each name he hurled at me was a painful reminder of the distance between us, and I could see the fury in his eyes as he let his anger overshadow any sense of love. Meanwhile, my mother sat in cold silence, her gaze fixed somewhere far away as if I were a ghost passing through her life; she wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence.

My siblings and I had always maintained a distant relationship, and in this moment of turmoil, they seemed indifferent, their concern for my well-being nonexistent. It felt like I was alone in a storm, without a single hand reaching out to pull me to safety.

There I was—devastated and heartbroken.

The three months following my breakup with Trevor were filled with depression. I barely stepped outside except for work. My family never checked in on me, and I had no friends—at least none I could genuinely trust.

The one person I could rely on was Maria. She’s also a Research Marine Biologist and one of the best in our field. Thanks to her, I was on my way to doing fieldwork for the Discovery Channel in Aruba. They’d been looking for two more researchers to complete their team for a year-long project, and we were both recommended and offered the opportunity. At first, the thought of coming here frightened me. I didn’t want to accept the offer without my family’s blessing, but eventually, I gathered the courage to seize the chance.

Honestly, no one would miss me anyway.

So here I am, riding in a taxi to the cozy little house that Maria and I will be renting for the following year. The island is absolutely stunning, brimming with culture, sandy beaches, fresh air, and a much-needed sense of peace.

As the taxi comes to a stop in front of a brick wall with a black iron gate, I step out, and the driver takes my suitcase from the trunk. Luckily, English is one of the many languages spoken here, and they accept American dollars. I pay the driver and thank him before watching him drive away.

I take a moment to breathe in the island air. The sun is starting to set, but the heat still clings to the evening. I face the gate and punch in the code. Once it clicks open, I unhook it and push the gate aside. Beyond it, I see a charming little brick house adorned with a mahogany door. It looks cozy and inviting, surrounded by low-cut grass and vibrant flower bushes beneath the windows.

As I make my way to the door, I spot a lockbox containing the spare keys for Maria and me. I input the code, retrieve the keys, and unlock the front door. Stepping inside, I’m greeted by the perfect setting: marble floors, rustic furniture, and a palette of natural colors. The kitchen opens into the living room, where a vast window reveals an incredible backyard view featuring a pool. It’s a charming three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath layout. The main bedroom was located on the left side, while the other two bedrooms were situated on the right, just past the kitchen. I chose the second master bedroom near the kitchen, which was beautifully decorated with a rustic canopy bed. Blue sheer curtains draped gracefully over it, complemented by a matching comforter set. The room also included a dresser, a small desk tucked into the corner, a walk-in closet, and a private bathroom. As soon as I saw the pictures Maria sent me, I knew this room was perfect for me.

I had the whole house to myself since Maria wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow due to some last-minute errands. I quickly unpacked my few clothes before taking a long, refreshing shower. Once I felt rejuvenated, I decided to head over to the local beach for a bite to eat.

The beach was just a short drive from our temporary home, so I arrived before I knew it. As the sun began to set, the vibrant atmosphere shifted from daytime fun to lively nighttime activities, and the place was still buzzing with people. I hadn’t picked a restaurant yet, preferring to take a leisurely walk along the shore. I stumbled upon a charming little bar right by the water when the sun was about to dip below the horizon. I climbed the steps and settled onto a bar stool. Two waiters were busy attending to other customers, so I turned my attention to the menu displayed on the wall behind the bar.

“Hola, bunita.” “(Hello Beautiful)”

I lifted my gaze to encounter one of the most mesmerizing men I had ever laid eyes on. His skin glowed with a warm, sun-kissed hue. He possessed the sculpted physique of a top model, with broad shoulders and a confident stance that screamed sex appeal. His light brown eyes sparkled like molten gold, drawing me in with an intensity that made me squeeze my thighs together. Cascading down from his head were jet-black curls, perfectly tousled yet impeccably groomed, framing a face adorned with a well-defined beard that accentuated his strong jawline. His mere presence made me feel emotions I had never known were there, leaving me speechless.

He waved his hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. “Um… I-I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish,” I stammered.

“Papiamento.” His voice was thrilling, sending delightful shivers down my spine.

“Oh, um…” I glanced around, feeling a bit lost about what to say next.

“Papiamento is the language, but I also speak English.” He flashed me a wink.

“Oh, gotcha!” I giggled, grateful for the reassurance.

He smiled, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. “What can I get you?” he asked, his gaze searching my face with an unreadable expression.

I quickly scanned the menu over his head. “I would like to have your loaded nachos and a strawberry margarita.”

“Is that all for you?” he asked, still studying my reaction, leaving me a bit puzzled.

“Yes, that would be it.” I smiled back at him.

“Alright, I’ll have your order ready shortly.”

As I watched him stroll away, he emitted a confidence that was impossible to overlook. He moved with the ease of a man completely in control, each step oozing a virile charm that was undeniably magnetic. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he must be—a true heartbreaker, no doubt—capable of leaving a woman begging for his attention. I recognized the type of ache his allure could bring; it was the intoxicating yet devastating kind that could spark both desire and hate.

While he placed my order, I admired the way his muscles flexed beneath the snug fabric of his white muscle shirt, each movement showcasing his sexiness. His full lips glistened slightly as he absentmindedly licked them, pulling my gaze back to him repeatedly. His brown cargo shorts hugged his strong legs just enough, striking a perfect balance with his casual attire. He looked about 6′1", his lean frame allowing him to effortlessly reach for bottles perched on the bar’s top shelf.

I followed him with my eyes as he navigated the bustling bar. He was effortlessly charming and bantered with another waiter—a handsome man who lacked the same captivating presence. A few momentary glances from him sent my heart racing, and I desperately tried to look elsewhere, faking indifference. But it was nearly impossible; I felt like a fish drawn to a hook, mesmerized by his every move.

I attempted to pull my attention away countless times, but my resolve crumbled each time. I finally managed to look away when a group of flirtatious girls surrounded him, giggling and tossing their hair. I turned to my phone, scrolling aimlessly as a distraction. Why should I waste my thoughts on someone like him? I wasn’t ready to dive into another relationship, and if I was honest, I knew I didn’t fit his type. He seemed to gravitate toward the models with desirable beach bodies, ample curves, and flowing hair—so unlike my own average appearance.

When he slid my strawberry margarita across the bar, I looked up, momentarily caught by the warm golden brown of his eyes, which sparkled with intriguing depth. “Thank you,” I managed to say, quickly shifting my focus back to my phone to avoid getting lost in the enchantment of his gaze.

He said nothing in reply, yet his footsteps echoed in my mind long after he walked away, drawn back into conversation with his coworker. I let out a long, exasperated sigh and sipped my drink. I wasn’t particularly fond of alcohol unless it was sweet, I savored the mild sweetness of my margarita and its soothing effects—I desperately needed something to calm my nerves.

After a while, my meal finally arrived, delivered by the same waiter who had been looking after me. I couldn’t remember his name, and I didn’t have the courage to ask; I didn’t want it to feel as if I was desperate to know him.

When I glanced up, I noticed how his smile lit up his face, giving me a glimpse his vibrant spirit. He deserved someone who could match his energy and share in his dreams—someone capable of fulfilling the aspirations he held so dear. Yet, I was painfully aware that I couldn’t be that person. So, I decided to observe quietly, letting my thoughts wander as I returned to my meal.