Afterwards, I felt guilty, so I was extra nice to Alistair. The next day, I took on the role of nurse. I kept asking if there was anything he needed. I called him 'darling'. I fetched him lemonade and Allen's snakes from the kiosk by the pool. I emptied and washed out his overnight spew bucket. This was my penance. I scrubbed and scrubbed the spew bucket until I could sniff it without it making me retch.
We lay on the bed, watching TV. I asked him, again, if he wanted something.
'Why don't you go for a walk? I'm going to have a rest. No offence, but I'd find it easier to sleep on my own right now. I didn't sleep well last night. Why don't you go and explore? This is no fun.'
I walked down the boardwalk. I hadn't slept well either. The mixture of excitement and guilt and having strayed too far from the accepted norm dragged on my nerves like a surveillance bracelet. Tiredness made my feet heavy and my enthusiasm to explore weak. I allowed myself to think about Jarvis kissing me. How could something feel so good? I thought about his hands, about the way he'd twisted his wedding ring, about his tanned skin, the shape of his forearm, the vein that ran down his neck, the sand on his lower back, like gentle exfoliator when I caressed him.
I walked past the restaurant from the other night and paused by the swimming pool. Then I saw them, Jarvis and his wife sitting on the beach. They were just sitting there, not even talking. I turned around and walked as fast as I could in the other direction. I wanted to hide. I never wanted to see him again. It dawned on me that we could never have what we'd had the day before. It was like I'd tasted the most marvellous thing but then been told it was poisonous.
I felt miserable. I walked to the other end of the resort and sat on the worker's beach. There was chainlink fencing nearby and wild cats shat on the sand like it was kitty litter. I imagined my whole life ahead of me as grey with the occasional bit of silver lining. The day before had been vivid purple, the future was grey.
When I returned to our suite I found that Alistair was now well enough to play his virtual game. He'd worked out how to hook it up to the new projector and everything.
'Don't worry, I've started a new game,' he said, meaning he wasn't playing with what's her face, blondie. I couldn't have cared anyway. My crime was far greater than his. I shrugged my shoulders and went and sat on the deck and read my book for the rest of the afternoon.