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the
music off.
     
    * * * *
     
    The water felt good
as it sprayed down on Susan’s skin. Not the standard shower--it was
large enough to fit a dining room suite in, with room to spare--the
shower nozzle was suspended so it poured like a waterfall straight
down on top of her. The shower head was big enough it drenched her
from head to toe immediately. She saw Kevin had unpacked her shower
supplies. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash. But Susan had no
interest in smelling like the woman she used to be. Not the woman
that got stood up on her wedding day. Instead she used the tiny
hotel bottles of soap and shampoo and conditioner, reveling in the
exotic scent of tropical fruits and flowers.
    Luckily the
conditioner made her hair marvelously easy to comb, so she didn’t
have to suffer through the knots and tangles. When she was done she
looked at her reflection in the mirror, again. This time she just
looked tired and wet, except for around her eyes. She still looked
like someone had punched her in both eyes.
    The bed had fresh
linens on it when she walked out of the bathroom. Maid service
there was great. She opened up her drawers to find all the clothes
she’d packed for her honeymoon. She grabbed some shorts, underwear,
and a tank top. She cringed when she reached for a bra.
    They were all the
bras she’d bought for the honeymoon. All of them were lace or
satin, and pushed her breasts up in the most seductive manner. To
add insult to injury, right beside those was the extensive
collection of lingerie she’d purchased just for this trip.
    She couldn’t handle
lace, so she picked up one of the satin bras. She didn’t realize
how much that bra accentuated her breasts until she had the tank
top on, and her eyes almost popped out of her skull.
    “Cripes!”
    She pulled off the
tank top and contemplated putting back on the three day soiled bra.
But the thought was too repugnant, so she searched through the
drawers until she found a very plain, not at all revealing, pink
t-shirt. The color was a little too cheery for her current
disposition, but it was that or walking around for the rest of the
day looking like a waitress at Hooters.
    She walked out into
the living room of the hotel suite and crashed on the couch, lying
back into the soft cushions and staring heedlessly into the
tropical oasis right outside her window. In a way, she wanted to go
out there and feel the sun on her skin, to let the wind blow away
all her cares, to let the ocean waters lap at her feet, and
surrender to all the sensory delights this place had to offer.
    But she was afraid
the tropical breeze would grab her up and whisk her off to
someplace where her memories would swirl around her like a
hurricane, that they would smother her if left to the movements of
the wind.
    If she were honest
with herself, she realized, she was afraid to leave the goddamn
room. If she left the sanctuary it provided, or Kevin’s protective
presence, what would happen when the memories came flooding back to
her? She closed her eyes.
    A moment later, she
felt Kevin flop down on the couch beside her. He smelled good, and
the feel of his strong arm as it encircled her shoulders, the solid
heat and comfort, it made her sigh just a little too wantonly.
    “So, black-eyed girl,
what do you wanna do now?”
    Susan shot him what
she hoped was a scathing look, and angled away from him on the
couch. “That’s not funny.”
    Kevin leaned back
into the couch, his smile smug. “Kinda is. I mean, looks like you
took up boxing while you were in your post-wedding coma.”
    Susan lunged for him,
but he was off the couch and jogging across the room before she
laid a finger on him.
    “Not fair!” she
complained. “When did you get all agile?”
    “Um...er...”
    “Tough question?”
Susan straightened up and locked Kevin in her sights.
    He stood there for
about thirty seconds looking absolutely miserable. He turned and
walked toward the kitchen. “About the time you met Mark.”
    His