April 30th, 1991
St. Croix, US Virgin Islands
The water is crystal clear and there’s not a cloud in the sky, but all I want is to go home.
Over lunch, I told William how sad I am about how things ended with Millie and how much I’m dreading picking my car up from hers for fear she’ll confront me.
“Just get over it!” he stated, continuing to tuck into a heap of conch fritters.
Attempting to sound as calm as possible, which given how annoyed I felt, wasn’t easy, I asked what he meant. Without looking up, he said, “What I said.”
Hoping he’d say something that made sense or at least gave me the impression he got it, I motioned for him to continue but his focus remained on eating so I got up from the table (stormed off would be more accurate!) without saying another word.
I fully expected him to follow me back to the room but that was well over an hour ago and there’s still no sign of him.