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Claire watched Kaylie and Mark enter their room just down from their own. Great. Their room is right next door to ours.
    Ours. Claire was angry just thinking that word. The room was supposed to be hers. Now it was theirs.
    When Claire entered the room, she saw that the workers had already brought up the cot, and she glared at it. It was still folded up and just stood there, mocking her. She hoped it would fold up on Jim in the middle of the night.
    Taking a deep breath, Claire looked around the room. It was a lovely room, despite her having to share it. The wooden plank walls were painted white with an aqua trim around the doors and windows. The furniture was made of brown wicker, as was the ceiling fan above the king-sized bed. Covered in a tropical scene bedspread, the bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by nightstands and lamps. In an alcove at the foot of the bed was a dresser and mirror, and on either side of that were small closets. On the far wall were glass patio doors that slid open and led out to a balcony. The balcony was big enough for two wooden Adirondack chairs. They were painted yellow and a table sat between them. Everything just shouted out tropical, and it was charming as could be, but the best part of the entire room was the view. Claire could see out past the pool area, past the outdoor bar and grill restaurant, and beyond to the white sand beach and the breathtaking aqua-blue ocean. It was so beautiful, it looked more like a painting than reality.
    "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jim asked, reiterating Claire's thoughts aloud.
    Claire rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten in that one moment of happiness that Jim was in the room with her. She turned around, picked up her suitcase, dropped it on the bed, and opened it up. She was rewarded with a mess. Obviously, some TSA agent had a hay day digging through her suitcase.
    Jim walked around to the other side of the bed and pushed his suitcase over by the cot. "I'm going down to the bar by the pool and ordering a Pina Colada. Want me to get one for you, too?"
    Claire looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "No, thank you. You know I don't hold alcohol well. I'm going to change and go for a walk on the beach." She dug around in her suitcase and pulled out a tank top and a pair of tan shorts.
    Jim leaned over and pulled a bikini top out of the messy bag. "Don't forget this," he said, winking.
    Claire grabbed it away from him. "Leave my stuff alone," she ordered. She spun on her heel and walked into the small bathroom, slamming the door. She heard Jim chuckle as he left.
    Looking into the framed mirror over the bathroom sink, Claire sighed. She looked a hundred years old after the long flight and the stress of sharing a room with her ex. She'd freshen up her makeup, pull her hair back, change, and then go down.
    Even though the room had an air conditioner running to keep it cool, Claire felt a trickle of sweat run down her ribs from under her bra. She looked at the bikini top she'd grabbed away from Jim. Hmmm. A swimsuit top under her tank would be much more comfortable in this heat than a bra. She decided she'd wear it after all.
     
    ***
     
    Jim went down the stairs at a fast clip, smiling the entire way. The face that Claire had made when she'd snatched her swimsuit top away from him was a cross between librarian prissy and murderous hatred. He couldn't help it. It made him chuckle. Claire had always been the one in their relationship to have a clear head and steady nerves. He'd never known her to be anything but calm, controlled, polite, and charming. But if today was any indication, she'd changed over the past four years—a lot. The way she'd nervously spun that charm bracelet around her wrist had almost scared him. He thought her hand would fall off. And the biting sarcasm that came out of her mouth was scary, too. She seemed so angry. Of course, he understood that their sharing a room was completely ridiculous, but there had been no other choice. The old