There Galapagos My Heart by Philip William Stover

Author:Philip William Stover
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Iron Bridge Creative
Published: 2020-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

At breakfast I’m standing in the buffet line when Fred asks me, “How’s your vacation going?”

Vacation? He has no idea. So far I have spent most of my time rigorously avoiding Benton or stuck in some hell situation that feels like it was designed by an underworld demon. I’ve recently realized I am still in love with my ex-boyfriend, who might even be interested in me, but he just happens to have started a family and has a baby and a new boyfriend back in the UK.

“It’s great,” I say, pouring myself a glass of mango-orange juice.

“You must try this,” Rita says, putting some slices of pineapple on a plate for me. “It’s heavenly. You missed such a wonderful walk yesterday afternoon. We went to Bartolomé Island, and we saw the Galapagos penguin.” Rita is absolutely giddy with excitement.

“Your friend Benton gave the most informative walking tour of the island. Did you know the marine iguana spends twenty hours a day sleeping?” Fred asks me.

“Or that the pink flamingos are pink because their diet consists mostly of shrimp that colors their feathers?” Rita adds.

“As a matter of fact,” I tell them, “I did know that.” When you live with a wildlife expert for a year, you pick up a few things. “I hope I will see you both at my watercolor class tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t miss it. I’d love to capture this setting. It’s so magical. It feels like anything can happen here.”

“Great, see you then,” I say and take my juice to a quiet table off to the side of the dining room where I can sit by myself and don’t need to pretend I’m a happy-go-lucky member of the cruise faculty.

I have not spoken a single word to Benton since our fight on the island almost two days ago.

Yesterday we were docked at olivine crystal–rich greensand beach of Floreana. Benton went off on a long hike with a group of passengers. I stayed behind with another group and visited the famous Galapagos Post Office, which is just a wooden barrel on a pole covered in colorful bits of driftwood, but in the eighteenth century, sailors from whaling vessels used the spot to drop off letters, hoping other crews would take them in the opposite direction. I wondered if I hid in the barrel if some big sexy sailor would find me and take me wherever he was going.

After, we snorkeled in Devil’s Crown, a shallow sunken crater with vibrantly colored fish and coral. A few sea lions even joined us, but all I could think about was having to spend another night in my tiny cabin only inches away from Benton.

There is no pre-sleep entertainment anymore or even a nod or a smile. I’d be fine with this situation except for the small fact that when I’m alone in the cabin, I’m still jerking off fantasizing about him. I could forgive my lust, but it’s fantasizing about bringing him breakfast in bed after a night of uncontrolled sex

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