This self—the one she had worked so hard to build in years of therapy, in paying off debt and being true to her values—was her real self, not the self-conscious wreck she became around her college friends. She loved Paul, and she would always love Danial, but she was not part of their world, and she no longer needed to prove to them, or anyone else, that she could play the part well enough to pass.

Alex reached into her bag, noticing that it was distinctly sandier than when she had arrived in Greece and making a mental note to clean it out when she got to her hotel. She pulled out a postcard she’d bought in Corfu, and the pen she’d taken from her hotel’s front desk, clicking it open and bringing it down to transcribe the words that had been swirling in her head all afternoon:

Mom,

I know that I’ve made some pretty crazy decisions in the past, and that we don’t always see eye-to-eye. I know there are things you want for me that I don’t have, or times when it’s hard to trust my judgment. But even though my life isn’t perfect, I am really, truly happy in it. I’m proud of myself, proud of where I come from and how I got here, and grateful for everything I have (including you and dad).

Sometimes I might need a little more room to figure out my own path, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still need my mom. (Maybe we could set times to talk instead of surprise FaceTimes? Lol.) Anyway, this trip has been really enlightening, and part of that is realizing how important our relationship is to me. I love you, and I can’t wait to visit you guys once I get home.

Alex

25. Polis Chrysochous, Cyprus

25

POLIS CHRYSOCHOUS, CYPRUS

Now

“It’s silly, honestly,” Bee explained as the designated caviar waiter placed a small mound of the stuff onto the skin between her index finger and thumb, which she quickly sucked into her mouth. “But it’s fun.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never done this before.” Alex laughed, extending her own hand for a dollop.

The waiter emptied the mother of pearl spoon full of tiny fish eggs onto Alex’s hand and she ate it dutifully, relishing the creamy, salty flavor as it filled her mouth and slipped down her throat.

“Thank you,” she said as the waiter headed toward another eager group of wedding guests. “And thank you for teaching me the art of the caviar bump,” she said to Bee.

“It’s my pleasure.” She smiled, silver bangles tinkling on her wrist as she raised her flute of champagne to Alex’s. “Now I just have to find my husband before he eats that entire tin.”