“You’re all set for your extension and here is your mail,” Katie at the front desk offered. She handed me a thick padded envelope, a letter—which was likely an invitation to purchase a timeshare here and coupons for stuff to do outside the resort.

“Thanks very much.” I grabbed them and moved aside to a small table, ripping open the thick package first.

My phone.

It was nice not having it for a few days. I’d come to hate this thing after the whole August disaster. I cringed when I thought about all the desperate messages I’d sent him through this device and he’d ignored.

There was no part of me that wanted to text or call him ever again. Neither was there a part of me that wanted to fight for us. The part that wanted to shake him and make him see he was the one I wanted.

I exhaled an easy breath which I’d learned to perfect during my yoga sessions, but a familiar hollowness crept up in my chest now that I’d allowed myself to think about him again.

Not now. I’ve been doing so well.

Seeing August last Saturday afternoon was painful but also settled me somehow. Even though the amends I’d made that day were with Troy, I felt like I’d said goodbye to August too.

I left them with a smile—a bitter smile maybe, but it felt real for me. And that was enough.

I was relieved to find my phone dead. “One more day without messages won’t hurt.”

Besides, phones technically weren’t allowed during activity or leisure hours, so I slipped it away.

Walking past poolside, I strolled to the beach, which was only a short ramp from the elevated pool deck.

Thursday was bike riding day and since I had never ridden, I passed on it and stayed on the beach with my two lawyer friends.

Since I’d listened to their stories of failed marriages and overworked, yet highly paid lives, they insisted I do all the talking.

I think I’d rather go biking and keep falling on my ass for four miles.

“And we don’t want to hear the speed-dating version of it. We want to hear it all. We’ve got nothing but time, sweets.”

My mother used to call me sweets. I figured it was a sign I should start with her.

I talked to Beth and Jill about my mother. They were sad for me, but not in a pitied way, it was more of a “yeah, we’ve been there, but it gets better,” kind of way. The slight difference comparatively was refreshing.

It could have also just been the clean air in my lungs finally.