He sat down next to her on an upholstered blue dining chair, an unexpected gesture that flushed her body with chills. It felt insufferably smug, invading her space like this when he had so callously broken their pact the night before. She stood up, walking over to the sideboard coffee station to add more sugar to her cup while Danial cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. After stirring in the sweetener that she didn’t actually want, she took a seat on a bench opposite the dining table: close enough to remain in the conversation, but far enough from Danial.

“You don’t want your food?” he asked, gesturing at her full plate on the table.

“I do,” she replied, mindlessly smoothing the fabric of a throw pillow. “I just wanted to take in the view a bit.”

“Hmm,” he responded. “You’ll let us know how it is.”

“Don’t you dare start,” Bee ordered, peering over the top of her Loewe sunglasses. “I’m not spending my vacation listening to you two argue.”

“Okay, but I am,” Paul replied, closing the sliding door behind him. If Danial’s unbuttoned shirt was a bit of a statement, Paul’s floral silk robe hanging open over a bright green speedo was a manifesto.

“I’m not arguing,” Alex clarified, feeling surprisingly defensive. “I just want to sit on the bench.” She hated this dynamic: the way she always became so serious around this group, because nothing was serious to them.

“I’m talking to Danny,” Bee responded.

Paul sat down in Alex’s chair, popping a blackberry from her plate into his mouth and winking at her. Next to him, Danial’s phone began to buzz on the table. In one swift motion, he swiped to answer the call, stood up from his chair, and walked toward the far side of the deck. His head was tilted slightly downward as he walked, and she could hear the gentle flow of his deep voice as he moved. He was speaking Farsi, undoubtedly to his mother, whose calls he always took without hesitation.

His entire demeanor changed when he spoke to her: even his physical presence became delicate and tender. From behind her sunglasses, Alex observed him intently.

“It’s late for his mom to be calling,” she muttered, more to herself than anything. “It’s after midnight for her.”

“She’s always worried when he’s traveling,” Dev answered quietly, removing a few sections from his newspaper and placing them in front of Danial’s seat. “I’m just surprised he has service here.”

Alex clicked her own phone next to her, which she was studiously keeping on WiFi only to avoid roaming charges. The deck fell silent, only the tinkling of forks and spoons against china filling the space, the water lapping at the hull beneath them. After a few minutes, Danial returned to his seat, looking slightly worried.