“Mmm-mmm.” I clucked my tongue. “Don’t get all excited for nothing. You’ll only disappoint yourself.”

“I will absolutely find out every detail about this man in person. Glad he’s there. You shouldn’t be alone.”

I laughed. “It’s okay. I’m not scared of the dark.”

Diya tsked. “You know what I mean! You’re here visiting me, and I feel like I should be spending every minute with you.”

“Don’t do that. You can’t spend every minute with me when I’m here for over a week. And you have work. Besides, I’m not here for you, you know? I just came for this sweet villa and drinks and ube. Okay, so I just came for the ube.”

Diya chortled on the other end. “Bet you finished all the ube malasadas Kimo’s mom made for you at the get-together?”

“Yes. You know I did.”

“I have to go and take care of yet another emergency. We have four key cards, so give your friend one if you want.”

“Oh, boy…”

“That leaves an extra. Kimo doesn’t have one. He wouldn’t be going there without me anyway.”

“Thanks! Hope work gets better…”

She groaned dramatically. I could practically see her throwing her head back in exasperation. I didn’t know how she worked in the hospitality industry.

“Oh, by the way, I left you a book. In case you get bored or want to read, but seeing that you have a man friend, this probably won’t apply. That one I was telling you about? It’s pretty good. Saw it go viral, and typically, I wouldn’t get into social media–hyped books, but all these readers were fawning over this book, particularly the love interest. And, girl, I read it in two sittings on my days off when Kimo was trying to get attention, and by the end, despite how amazing Kimo is, I was just, like, why aren’t you a Jay Shah? Ugh. I had to slap myself back into reality.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s on my bed.”

So it was. A little yellow book.

Eight Sunny

Showering post-travel had to be one of the best feelings in the world, and much needed. Airports and long flights, germs, recycled air, disgusting restrooms…how could anyone love traveling?

I left most everything in my suitcase for now but hung up my suit. Considering how hot and humid it’d been already, I wasn’t sure how any of us would survive wearing a suit for the wedding. Weren’t Hawaiian destination weddings all about beaches and relaxed styles? Because April didn’t want to risk bad weather or wind, the wedding and reception were in a large indoor room—with AC, thank god—that opened up to the gardens and ocean beyond. Half and half. Still, it would be a miracle if we didn’t have pit stains.

Sam was the first to get married in our friends’ circle and he was already setting the bar high for the rest of us. I imagined Aamar would cave to familial and cultural expectations to have a big desi wedding back home. Which sounded great to me. A long drive to a nice venue maybe; no planes. Plus, Indian weddings were amazing with all the food and dances as long as one was a guest and not the stressed-out couple. Not that I even had a girlfriend, much less a fiancée, but all I knew was that I wanted a small wedding and not all dozen events and traditions that came with an Indian wedding. If marriage was an option. But that was a big if.

Bane had clothes all over the place, strewn over the bed and floor. How did she live like this? She also had a nice view of the ocean from this room, mirroring the glass sliding doors from the living room. Must be nice to be able to vacation like this, which was another reason why I needed to get that promotion for PM. I was a great lead, but I knew I could be an effective PM. Besides, coding into the night was grating down my soul. It was one of the reasons why Sejal had left me. I didn’t spend enough time on her. I didn’t sleep the entire night in bed with her. I was too focused on work and getting to where I needed to be. Which was ironic because she wanted me to make more money but didn’t like the amount of work I had to do to get there.

If only she’d stayed around for another year. She would’ve seen that I made lead dev, which was a bump in pay. And hopefully in a few weeks, I’d land that PM position to bump my pay even more. We weren’t talking about a few extra dollars an hour, either. Enough to finally offer a sizable down payment for Seattle’s expensive housing market. Enough to help my parents substantially with medical bills and mortgage, and to spoil my sisters. That was what I really wanted.

After a shower, I found Bane lounging on the back patio, a yellow book on the table beside her paired with water. For a second, I thought she was taking a break from reading to enjoy the spectacular view. But no. She was on her laptop working.

I leaned against the opened sliding door and folded my arms across my chest. “I’m pretty sure Gabrielle forbade you from working.”

Bane jumped, then let out an exasperated breath, returning to work. “She doesn’t own me.”

“She’s going to figure out you’re logging in and lock you out. Then what?”

“Then I’ll be forced to have a true vacation.”

“Why don’t you go to the beach or swim or golf or see waterfalls?”

“And get eaten alive by bloodthirsty mosquitos? These repellant candles are the only things standing between me and a swarm of vampiric bugs.”

“I haven’t been bitten once.”

“You’ve been here all of three hours. Just wait until twilight, dawn, or when you’re near a fruit tree. That’s what they love. Lure you with the beauty of nature and then bam! Stick their little gross oscillating teeth into your flesh and drive you mad with itching. These mosquitos aren’t like Washington mosquitos. Like most insects in Hawaii, they’re huge. Monsters, really.”

“Arbitrary excuses.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m heading out. Should I…text you when I’m on my way back?”

“Sure. Probably a good idea to have each other’s contact information since we’re dating.”

We exchanged numbers and I took the extra key card on the counter. But who was I kidding about not working on vacation? I planned on checking Jira for updated scrum boards, roadmaps, and repositories for DevOps the second I had extra time.

I guessed that the golf carts weren’t actually meant to cater guests to and from the many hotel buildings but were actually meant for use on the golf course. No matter, the walk back to the main building and the lobby of my actual hotel section was pleasant. This layout was a little confusing—this entire gigantic acreage was owned by one hotel chain, but had three different types of hotels/subnames, all separate, the next more elaborate than the last. Queen’s Land (the least expensive but still pricey), King’s Land (where the wedding party was staying and very nice), and the Homestead (sounded the cheapest but was the most expensive with entire villas to rent).

The walk was pleasant, full of fresh air and scenery of clear blue sky, sparkling ocean, gigantic palms and coconut trees, and endless flowering shrubs. Hot, but beautiful. An ocean breeze cut through the heat, making the walk across the golf course bearable.

April was the first of our small group to spot me walking through one of the hotel’s many restaurants. She greeted me with a hug and then patted my face like my mother often did as if gesturing, Poor baby.

I knew what that meant; we all did. “I’m good. Seriously. Let’s just focus on you and the stressed-out groom.”

“Why is he even stressed? I should be the one stressed.”

“As you’ve said: As long as the dress arrives safely and you get plenty of sleep, it’ll be perfect.”

“Then I guess half of perfection can be counted on thus far. Honestly…are you…” April eyed Sejal.

“She’s your bridesmaid. I get it.”

“She’s not awful, you know?”

I didn’t comment. Having to tell someone a person wasn’t awful was often an indictment in itself.

“She had a difficult time after the breakup.”

Because I hadn’t? Sejal’s words of how inadequate I was lingered around my aura like a dark cloud sending jolts of lightning. Unlike Sejal, I didn’t expel all my heartache and issues and emotions into our friend group. It was easy to conclude that she’d suffered more, or that I, as she’d told me so many times, was part robot and emotions weren’t in my vocabulary.

Of course, Sejal was wrong. Even if I’d expressed myself, she would’ve been quick to either dismiss me or say something along the lines of, “Where were these feelings before?”