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I throw her luggage onto the golf cart.

“Stella, you were never mine. And I was never yours. We were using each other for whatever reasons. I sensed something off about you and my dad. Every time we had sex, there was always something keeping me from enjoying myself. Oh, and when you run straight to his bed, remember he’s using you too. What I don’t understand is why he wants us to get married.”

“You might find out sooner than later as to why. You’re an asshole.”

I’ve been called worse.

When the golf cart disappears from the tropical lined path, I sit on the patio in the cushioned rocker, thinking of my next steps.

Me: Send the contract here overnight. I’m signing the extension.

Ewan: It can wait til you get back.

Me: It can’t. My father may try to stop it.

Ewan: He wouldn’t go that far, would he?

Me: Have you met my dad? He would go that far and farther considering he’s been sleeping with Stella.

Ewan: What?

Me: Exactly. Send the contract.

Ewan: No need to overnight. We can do it digitally. I’ll email it over as soon as it’s ready.

Me: Good.

I pop the top off a beer and walk down to the beach. From this point on, I’m being true to myself and letting the chips fall however and wherever.

The blistering late-afternoon sun has the Stallion crew sitting under a large cabana with aqua-green striped curtains draping the outside, keeping the sun at bay. The front panels are pulled back and tied, offering an oceanfront view. When they see me, everyone quiets.

Corbin asks, “Is she coming back?”

“Nope. Stella’s gone for good.”

My friends mull it over that my girlfriend is on the next flight out after being here less than twenty-four hours.

“You are an asshole,” Reed jests.

They all join in razzing me.

“Yep. The worst.”

“So annoying.”

But Corbin gets out of his seat and slaps me on the back. “You’re a good guy. Don’t forget it. I know Becca and I never will. You were there for us when we needed it most.”

He pulls me into a bro hug right as the waiters bring in trays of food and drinks.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m good. It’s a relief that she’s gone. I couldn’t stand ten days of taking her photo and feeling like I can’t have fun because she isn’t.” As we fill our plates with fish tacos and the freshest pineapple and blueberries you’ve ever had, Becca sneaks between me and Reed.

“If you need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

I nod, not wanting to create more drama on day one. “When’s Madison’s plane coming in?”

“Her flight has been delayed out of Chicago, so who knows. She’s hoping by tomorrow.”

“Looks like we’re the only two loners so far.”