“If Gabe happens to be going on this trip, let’s just skip it. We can walk into town or something instead.”
After last night, I’m nervous about running into him. I don’t want any more grand gestures.
Especially not in front of Felix.
Kind Felix, who seems willing to let yesterday go. Sexy Felix, who used his body to tell me everything is okay.
“I lied,” Felix says. “I can’t promise that. I want to hang out with him.”
“Felix!”
“Sorry, but I’m fully invested in spending the day with your unhinged ex-boyfriend.”
“Do you want me to text him and personally invite him along?”
“Please.”
I take out my phone and he snatches it away, laughing.
“If he’s there, I solemnly swear I’ll be the first one out the door,” Felix says. “I can’t watch him karaoke-bomb you again before lunch.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I forgot how much I hated it when he did shit like that.”
Felix raises his eyebrows. “He has a history of serenading you in public?”
“No. First time. But he has this thing about making larger-than-life gestures to express his emotions. It’s like a psychological tic.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, say you have a fight and he feels bad about it later and wants to get you flowers. Instead of just picking some up at the bodega and apologizing, he’ll like make a scavenger hunt leading you to the botanical gardens, where he’s arranged a private after-hours sunset tour.”
“That’s an oddly specific example.”
“Yeah, because he literally did that. He did stuff like that all the time. Like, once I got annoyed with him because he canceled a date to an Italian restaurant last minute. I was pissed because it’s a hard reservation to get and I’d made it weeks before. The next day, I get to his apartment and the chef is there teaching Gabe how to hand-make pappardelle for cacio e pepe.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. I think it has something to do with his upbringing. His family are these really reserved WASPs who primarily express affection by starting trust funds for one another, so he, like, craves something more personal, but then overcorrects.”
And overpromises, it occurs to me. Professes love, names your babies, moves you into his apartment. But can’t follow through. Like the gesture is so grand because the emotion behind it is performative. Lacking conviction. A show.
This revelation explains so much. How he’s capable of such romance and such detached withdrawal.
I feel like I understand what happened between us for the first time. I wasnot responsible for the failure of my relationship because I couldn’t live up to his expectations.
The problem truly washim.
I don’t say this to Felix, because we’ve discussed my ex-boyfriend far too much already. But when I take his hand, I feel lighter. More confident. Like the girl I came on this cruise to get back to being.
We stroll to the tender hand in hand, and yet another couple asks us if we’re honeymooning.
“Yes,” Felix says, squeezing my fingers conspiratorially. It’s clear he loves this game.
“Where are you from?” the woman asks.
“New York and London, respectively,” Felix says.
“Oh! Is it hard to be in a long-distance relationship?”
