Burned out from work and playing therapist to my heartbroken sister, I bought a random plane ticket to Mexico, hoping to escape. But when I boarded the flight, I locked eyes with the one man I never wanted to see again: her ex-husband, Dean. After a grueling shift, I stumbled home, exhausted. Jolene, my sister, had been living with me since Dean left her without explanation. She’d barely slept or eaten, lost in a whirlwind of sadness. I had done all I could, but I was running on fumes. I couldn’t keep this up any longer. So,
I packed a bag and decided to disappear for a while. I bought a ticket to Cancún, no plan, just a need for escape. But as soon as I boarded the plane, I saw him. Dean. The man who had broken my sister’s heart. Once in Cancún, things went from bad to worse. A man posing as a taxi driver stole my suitcase, passport, and money. In that moment, I felt utterly helpless—until Dean appeared. He took charge, helping me report the theft to the police.
I accepted when he offered me a place to stay for the night. At the hotel, the tension between us was palpable. Then Dean told me something that stopped me cold: he hadn’t left Jolene for someone else—he’d fallen for me. The confession hung heavy in the air. I was angry, but part of me couldn’t deny the flickers of truth in his words. The next morning,
the police found my things. I went home, but not without the weight of Dean’s words haunting me. Jolene was still in my guest room, lost in her grief. Yet, when I checked my phone, I found myself typing: “How about coffee sometime?” It was selfish, maybe, but in that moment, honesty was all I had left.
