I stepped off the plane, inhaling deep as I took in the island. Mustique Island was privately owned and located in the center of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Lush green vegetation surrounded me, the smell of flowers and tropics creating a fragrance that I wanted to bottle and keep forever. It was a smell unlike anything I’d ever experienced. When a Mercedes eased up the runway and Jacob handed our pilot several crisp hundred dollar bills and the man barely flinched, the smell of something else hung in the air: money.
Mustique was known for its exclusivity and as a vacation spot for the affluent. Curious, I’d pulled up the island’s website on the plane and besides two small boutique hotels that charged nearly one thousand dollars a night, the island boasted sprawling villas that cost as much as some Americans made in a year--for a week’s stay.
There was nothing blatantly ostentatious about the Mercedes that picked us up plane side; I didn’t buckle myself in with a diamond encrusted seatbelt. But it was the fact that there was no one else on the strip besides the pilot and a few airport attendees that reminded me that this wouldn’t be my Mother’s Caribbean vacation. I felt like we had the whole island to ourselves.
My life would never be the same. When most people wanted to escape they went on an overnight trip. When I said I wanted to escape, my fiancé put us on a plane and rushed us to the Caribbean.
I was going to get my beach wedding.
“Are you alright?” Jacob asked, picking up on my silence.
“I’m on a private island in the Caribbean.” I gestured out the window at the first people I’d seen since we landed, an older couple with a market basket and expressions like they didn’t have a care in the world “It’s...” I stopped, my chest tightening.
“A little overwhelming?” he finished for me, reading my nervousness despite the smile I wore, showing literally every tooth in my mouth. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed. Our reason for coming here...” He trailed off and I dropped the grin, suddenly very aware of the fact that I wasn’t too fond of him equating any other emotion other than excitement with our situation.
A little bit of a hypocrite, huh Lay? “You’re nervous.”
He pushed his shades up, like he was catching the mask before it fell away. “Nervous? Not exactly.” His eyes were shielded but I could see the nerve in his jaw ticking. “Maybe slightly. But not about making you my wife. I just want to make sure that the ceremony is...worthy of you. I want it to be something you remember for the rest of your life.” He paused as the phone in his hand dinged and his jaw tightened. “Fondly.”
I put my hand over his before he answered it and gave the poor sap on the other end a piece of his mind. “Even if the driver pulled to the side of the road right now and we got married in the backseat, I’d love it. You moved heaven and earth to get me away from the city and the paparazzi--”
“--and my mother?” he said with a chuckle.
“Our mothers,” I clarified. Sure, if there was an Aggravation Olympics, Alicia would win hands down, but having Mom berate me and force my hand wasn’t much better. It was just another form of control.
I pushed aside the bumble of nerves that occupied my stomach and looked straight at the one person that made it all worth it. “This is all I wanted, Jacob. You are all I wanted.”
His smile deepened as he stroked my cheek. “I love you, Leila.”
I scooted closer to him. “Love you too.” As soon as I closed my eyes I began making a mental checklist of all the things I didn’t have. Like a dress. Or anyone to do my hair. Or shoes. And what about--
I stopped. Was this what wedding jitters felt like? It was hard to tell because I’d been questioning whether I belonged in Jacob’s world since he first asked me to be a part of it. And I wanted to be in his life. I wanted this to be something he remembered always; not the stress nor having to cuss out custom officials to make sure the marriage was official.
Cut it out. I ordered myself, focusing on his hand in mine. Focusing on the oasis right outside my window. He loves you. You love him. Everything else is static. I thought happy thoughts as the car pulled up a hill that overlooked a cliff, water crashing into the sand. We pulled into a cobblestone driveway, stopping at a wrought iron gate. The driver leaned out the window and punched in the access code and the gates retracted. The terrain was steep and ropey tree limbs with thick, bushy leaves obscured the view on both sides. There was a small clearing and the cobblestone ended, leading up to a jagged walking path.
The car eased to a stop beside the nicest golf cart I’d ever seen. It took me a second to realize that Jacob wanted me to get out and I scrambled to join him, eyeing the tiny vehicle as he pulled the suitcases from the trunk of the Mercedes. I realized my first guess was wrong. It was a little too sleek and round to be a golf cart. It was one of those electric cars that one kept an eye out for when parking creatively downtown. But it was definitely the Bentley of electric cars with glossy red paint and dark leather seats.
The driver smiled at me, speaking in thick, accented English. “Called a mule.”
“A mule?” I answered, skimming my fingers on the metal frame. “It’s the nicest mule I’ve ever seen.”
I walked to a low hanging branch, bright pink flowers as delicate as the breeze glittering in the sun. I plucked one and spun it between my pointer and thumb before sweeping my hair behind my ear and perching it against the pushed back curls. Jacob slid behind the wheel and I scooted into the seat beside him, clutching the sidebar as he reversed, then the small car jerked forward up the hill. The strip of fabric meant to be a seatbelt was what I held onto for dear life as we skittered up to the house. Mule? The thing was closer to a golf cart on steroids.
I didn’t even mind that he swerved a bit near the end, locking eyes with me and catching my reaction. I stepped out of the mule, hesitating as I gazed at the open front door, down through the front entryway and out to the sea.
“Jacob...” I moved closer, eyeing the beautiful tile work that led up to the house, the rustic, yet classic lines of the hardwood exterior entryway. It had such a lived in, casual elegance from the built in shelving to the chic white furniture.
The island was the star of the show. Everything was bright, lush and tropical. I felt like I was in paradise when I stepped out on the back deck. The crystal pool opened up to a sky as blue as the water that flowed past the horizon.
“What do you think?” Jacob came up behind me, wrapping me in a warm embrace as he drew me close to his chest.