Drunken Confessions

Bridget collapsed into the lounger next to Elizabeth. It'd been a few days. Elizabeth had half wondered if they were even still on the island.

"Hey stranger," Elizabeth said.

"Mai tai, please," Bridget said, putting her sunglasses on.

"How's the honeymoon?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Good," Bridget said robotically. "This place is beautiful."

Elizabeth paused, waiting a beat.

"It's just ... not what I expected, sexually," Bridget admitted. "I was a virgin when I met him. And it's so short, the time I mean ... and it's small."

"I know the feeling," Elizabeth said. "I used to be married to a white man."

"You?" Bridget said, gawking. "But you and Antoine seem so happy ..."

"We are," Elizabeth responded. "When I was with Douglas, I wasn't. The life was good, don't get me wrong. Everything I wanted, three kids, a huge house and a pool. But there was a void, physically. I wasn't being satisfied."

"So ... how did it come about?" Bridget asked.

"It was Douglas's idea, oddly enough. He wanted to replace himself with a better man, I think. And who was I to say no? Bringing a Black man into my bed was the best decision I ever made."

Bridget dipped her toes into the sand. "I want to know what that feels like. I mean, true satisfaction."

Elizabeth smiled. If she learned one thing from Antoine, it was to let it marinate a little.