A Taste of Utopia by L. Duarte Page B

convinced him to wait,” she says.
    “Wait until when?” I ask.
    “I tried to convince Dad to wait until I’m back at school, but next week is our annual family vacation to St. Lucia where we have a beach house. My grandpa charters a plane, and we spend ten days there. Mom suggested you and I go together. Dad demanded.”
    “Do you want me to go?”
    “Would you even want to do this? I mean, you have your life. And this is my mess.” She casts her eyes on the phone clutched between her fingers. Her voice is so quiet and fragile.
    I hold her chin and force her to look at me. “Baby, we’re in this together, okay?”
    “Thank you,” she whispers.
    And her eyes are so grateful, and pure, and beautiful that the only thing I can think of is to take her again. Bury myself deep into her and show her that I’m not doing anything out of obligation.
    We’re lost in each other’s gaze when Chloe clears her throat. “Uh-uh, I guess I’m going back to the penthouse. You’re coming, Lottie?”
    Lottie breaks her eye contact with me. “Yes. I mean. Go ahead. I need to change and stuff. I’ll meet you in a bit.”
    “Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.” She gets up. “Don’t be long.”
    She leaves the room without another word to me. Lottie notices it.
    “What’s up with her? I mean, she isn’t usually this bitchy.”
    “It’s all right. She’s just concerned about you. Any good friend would be.”
    “What now?” she asks with a deep sigh.
    I know that she wants to talk. I’m not ready for a conversation.
    “Let’s have breakfast.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Try to eat a bit. And we can brainstorm about our situation.” I pull out a chair for her. “What would you like to drink?” I ask.
    “Orange juice, please.”
    “You okay?” I ask, pouring juice for both of us. She looks pale.
    “Yeah. It’s just . . . I’m overwhelmed, I guess. My life has had a heck of a turnaround in the last twelve hours.”
    “Are you . . . ?” I take a sip from the OJ. I want to ask the question without displaying any trace of insecurity. “Do you regret any of it?” I hold my breath waiting for an answer.
    “No.” She pauses and scrunches up her face. “Honestly, I don’t regret anything we did last night.” She hesitates and then adds, “I would do it all again.”
    “What is it, then?”
    “We’re strangers, Seth.” She furrows her brow. “This. All of it. It doesn’t make any sense. This isn’t the order that we do things.”
    “What’s wrong with it? Why does life have to follow a linear series of events?”
    “It’s beyond last night’s impulsive act. It’s what comes after that has me worried. We’re married, Seth. That’s serious. There’re logistics to consider. For instance, we live on opposite ends of the nation. God, it feels lame to think that far ahead when I don’t even know your favorite color.”
    “Fire.”
    “What?”
    “My favorite color is the color of fire.”
    “One day you’re going to tell me the reason behind that.” She nibbles a morsel of a blueberry muffin. I can see I’m losing her to common sense.
    “What animal are you most afraid of?” I ask.
    “What does that have to do with us?”
    “Just tell me. Better yet, what’s the most dangerous animal on the planet?”
    “I don’t know. I mean, I hate snakes.”
    “So, you’re afraid of snakes. You think they’re terrifying, correct?”
    She nods, the frown still blooming across her features.
    “Well, according to researchers, the most dangerous animal on the planet is a seemly harmless mosquito.” I pause, take a bite of my veggie omelet, and watch a slew of thoughts cross her face. Boy, she’s expressive. Just like Zach.
    “It makes no sense. Why would an ordinary mosquito be dangerous? What’s your point?”
    “That’s my point exactly. It makes no sense.” I can see I got her attention. “Not everything has to make sense, Lottie. Let’s just get to know each other. I’ll find out your favorite