She said, “Thank you.” She doesn’t know why she said that: like, thank you for this terrible view. Then she gave him a ten-dollar note, which was the only cash she had in her wallet, and he looked amazed, which seemed to indicate that Dom’s dad was correct, and she kind of felt like asking if she could have it back, please, she made a mistake.
Brownish rose petals were laid out in the shape of a wobbly heart on the bed and a small round table in the corner of the room contained a dusty bottle of room-temperature sparkling wine with a red $4.99 price tag on the back and a fruit platter, over which hovered a happy cloud of fruit flies.
“Think someone forgot the plastic wrap.” The guy flapped at the fruit flies with Eve’s ten-dollar note.
Eve took off her shoes and said, “Oh!” because the carpet oozed between her toes like damp cold forest moss, which was icky. It’s only nice when forest moss feels like forest moss.
“That’d be the steam cleaning,” Riley look-alike explained. “Last guests must have made a mess. Enjoy!”
Once they knew he was definitely out of earshot they couldn’t stop laughing. The terrible view, the buzzing fruit flies, the icky carpet. “We could be on a reality show,” said Dom. “Honeymoons from Hell.”
They had to flatten themselves against the walls to walk around the sides of the gigantic bed, but once they got in, the bed was actually amazing with crunchy-crisp but satin-smooth sheets. Who knew sheets could feel that good? They writhed about like dogs on carpets. They lay on opposite sides and called out “Helloooo” to each other over the mountain ranges of fluffy snow-white pillows, followed by fake fading echoes: “Hello, hello, hello.”
Then they rolled into the middle of the bed and had sex, and because it was the first time since their wedding it felt laden with significance and they even stared romantically into each other’s eyes like they were in a movie, proving the intensity of their love to their audience. Eve got the giggles first. Afterward they slept for hours.
Eve woke to the sound of Dom saying, “Babe. Wake up. Look what happened.”
And there, like a miracle, was the stunning ocean view exactly as the pictures had promised. It didn’t even need a filter, it was that beautiful, and the fact that the beauty came and went with the tide made it even more special.
Also, the carpet dried and no longer felt like forest moss.
They chucked the fruit in the bin.
Since then their honeymoon has been magnificent. Exactly like a real honeymoon. Eve knows it technically is a real honeymoon but it’s weird to think she and Dom are the literal honeymooners. They’ve had sex seven and a half times, they’ve been snorkeling (they saw a turtle), they’ve been paddleboarding (they were both really good at it, they’re so compatible!), they’ve had happy hour cocktails with all the other cheapskate honeymooners—some of whom are fun and will maybe be their friends forever—they’ve hiked the trails around the island and this morning they had the “signature couples massage,” which was included as part of their package. They both found it painful but didn’t like to complain, and now they know they don’t like massages and will never do that again, so that’s good.
Dom has also given Eve a few personal training sessions because he qualified as a personal trainer six months ago and he’s building up his business and has awesome ideas for a fitness app. He already has lots of regular clients. He’s popular with middle-aged mums because if they say, “It hurts, Dom!” he says, “Oh, well, have a rest, catch your breath,” and they sit on the grass and tell him about their children and how they hurt their feelings and never stop looking at their phones, and Dom says, “Don’t worry, they’ll grow out of it.”
Eve is worried the ladies are not going to see results if they just sit on the grass. She thinks he needs to be more boot-camp-ish and she’s been trying to get him to practice yelling at her, but he can’t do it, he’s too nice. She tests him by moaning, “I can’t do any more push-ups, Dom!” and every single time he lets her stop no matter how many times she explains he’s meant to shout, “YES YOU CAN! WE NEVER SAY THE WORD ‘CAN’T’ AT DOM’S BOOT CAMP!”
“You know what I think we should do now?” says Dom. He looks at her with a mischievous, almost guilty expression.
Eve rolls onto her side to face him. “What?”
“Something really bad,” he says. His eyes shine. “Something wild.”
Eve feels sick. She knows exactly what he’s going to say. He wants to try the choking thing. She knew it was coming. He’s already bored. This beautiful honeymoon is an illusion, just like that rose-gold sea.
“I think,” he says, “we should eat that Twirl from the minibar.”
He leaps from the bed, his penis bouncing joyfully. “We’re doing it, Eve, nobody can stop us.”
Yesterday they’d talked about how, on the few occasions they’d stayed at hotels as children, their parents had made such a HUGE deal about never ever touching the minibar, like it might self-combust if they did.
“I mean, it’s expensive, but it’s not that expensive!” Dom studies the minibar price list.
He comes back to the bed with a chocolate bar and a bag of chips.
“I’m going to tell your dad,” says Eve.
“I’d never hear the end of it,” says Dom.
The chocolate tastes wildly good, probably because it’s forbidden fruit, although it’s not fruit. This is apparently why affairs are so good because the sex is forbidden, but Eve can’t imagine ever wanting to sleep with anyone else, except a celebrity, of course.
Dom licks melted chocolate from his fingers and says, “What did you think I was going to suggest? You looked scared.”
“Oh,” says Eve. “No. It’s stupid. It’s just that I started thinking, on the plane, about choking. Or whatever the technical term is—”
“Autoasphyxiation. You want that?” Dom straightens up. Alert. Does he look alarmed or excited?
“No,” says Eve. “I’m sorry. Liv and Riley are into it. I just don’t think it would be…fun.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Dom flops backward on the bed. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either!” says Eve.
“I’m into breathing,” they both say at the same time, and they spin their heads to look at each other with wide eyes and then they laugh and laugh, until Eve snorts, which always makes them both laugh even more.
They are such nerds. They are totally compatible nerds.
Eve starts to shiver, so they get back under the duvet and sit upright with their backs against the wall.
After a moment Dom says, “Were you thinking about choking before or after the psychic lady?”
“Before,” says Eve. “Definitely before. It was nothing to do with her.”
She opens the bag of chips and offers it to him.
“You’re not worried about what she said?” Dom takes a chip.
