CHAPTER 8: UNFATHOMABLE

REVA

Exhaling, I stood there for a moment, still staring at the dress and the shoes before picking up the bouquet again with a soft inhale. My pulse raced so wildly I almost laughed, but then panic set in. I couldn’t show up looking like this. My hair was a mess, my nails were chipped from everything that happened, and I hadn’t even thought about what to do with my face. I needed help. Fast.

The resort was enormous, practically a self-contained paradise. I remembered reading that it had a shopping promenade, high-end boutiques, a spa, and a salon where guests could either come in or request in-suite service. I scrambled for the pamphlet that came with the welcome package, rifling through drawers and flipping through brochures and maps, but of course, I couldn’t find it.

“Come on…” I muttered, tossing another booklet aside before giving up and grabbing the phone. I called the front desk, breathless.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Belkov.” God, the reminder! “How may we assist you?”

“Hi, yes—um—could you please connect me to the salon?”

“One moment, please.”

A brief hold tone played, followed by a soft, professional voice that answered. “Azure Spa and Salon, this is Marina. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Marina. I was wondering if someone could come to my suite for a last-minute hair and makeup appointment.”

“I can check that for you.” There was a pause, followed by a regretful tone. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Belkov, but all our stylists are booked for on-site visits today. However, we can arrange an opening here at the salon if you’d like to come in, and make it thirty minutes.”

“Yes. Please. I’ll come there. Can you please give me directions?”

“Of course. We’re located on the lower terrace of the Coral Promenade; you can take one of the golf carts near the main path. They’ll drop you right outside the entrance.”

“Thank you so much!”

I hung up and rushed to the bathroom. My heart pounded as I jumped into the shower while my mind drifted back to Levi and his wild plan. My stomach flipped for some reason, but my mind wouldn’t let me relax, instead going back to thoughts of Nikolai and Hunter.

But I fought as hard as I could, refusing to let myself go down that path because if I did, all this would be pointless, and I might as well not even try to look nice because it wouldn’t work. I'd shrink, and Levi would have to go to dinner with a toad. By the time I stepped out of the shower, the mirror was all fogged up, and my nerves were a mess.

I quickly dried off, tied my robe, and looked at the clock. I had just over four hours before dinner, which should be enough time to get ready, but my salon appointment was in thirty minutes, so I needed to hurry.

They were already helping me out by fitting me in, and I didn’t want to make them regret it. I started drying my hair, but halfway through I realized it was pointless since I was going to the salon. I put on something simple, a white sundress and sandals, and hurried out of the suite, holding my purse and room key.

A row of shiny white golf carts waited nearby, and I waved one down. The driver, a cheerful young man, greeted me. “Where to, Ma’am?”

“The Coral Promenade, please… the salon.”

He nodded, starting the cart. As we glided through the winding resort paths, I caught glimpses of glowing pools, cabanas, and couples sipping champagne as the ocean blazed in the distance. They were happy. Their husbands hadn’t humiliated them with their brothers’ help.

I thought back to my mother, to how she warned me the day I told her I would take Hunter in. But because I thought I knew better, I took him in anyway. Well, I guess he didn’t do anything except bring out Nikolai’s true colors.

I wouldn’t be one of those women who blamed everyone but the person who owed them loyalty. Nikolai was not a child. Hunter didn’t force him into anything. Plus, he said it himself that he always liked men. I guess he kept me around because I was useful. I gave him the support he needed at the time, at a time when people like Hunter wouldn’t even spare him a look.

My thoughts churned so fast I didn’t even realize we’d arrived at the salon until the driver spoke up. Quickly apologizing to him for zoning out, I shoved down all thoughts of my cheating husband.

“Thank you,” I told him, stepping down with his assistance. Such a gentleman. The receptionist smiled as I entered the salon, and I returned it, giving her my details after she welcomed me. She immediately ushered me to a chair.

Within minutes, a stylist approached, and the work began. Chatting gently about the event I would be attending, she asked what I’d like. I told her about the red gown, not sure what I wanted to do, and her face lit up.

“Then let’s go for something timeless,” she said.

I nodded, and for the next hour, I sat surrounded by mirrors and soft lighting, slowly watching a stranger appear, someone poised, radiant, and heartbreakingly hopeful.

By the time my hair and makeup were done, I almost didn't recognize myself. Thanking the stylist, I headed out, and within moments, I was back in my suite. The salon had also been a nice distraction. But the moment I checked the time, my excitement stalled.

I still had two whole hours before I needed to start getting dressed. I stood in the middle of the suite, looking around like the furniture might give me an idea.

Maybe I could take a walk around the resort? No, I would end up bumping into my colleagues, who would give me sad looks. I couldn’t face them. The appealing choice was locking myself in this suite, but I knew if I did that, I’d fall asleep and wake up forty minutes late with mascara smearing across my forehead and a crease from the pillow carving through my cheek.

A sharp knock on the door pulled me out of my internal crisis. “Come in!” I called, expecting room service. But it wasn’t room service. It was her again… the woman from PR whose name I still didn’t know, even though she somehow always said mine like we were best friends reunited after twenty years.

She swept inside like she owned the place, her eyes darting all over it like she was looking for something. And I opened my mouth to ask if she needed something, but she beat me to it, her expression instantly melting into pity.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she breathed, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. “I just came to check on you.”

Check on me? She saw me three hours ago. “I’m fine,” I said gently, still trying to figure out how to angle my body to block her from coming further into the room, which she did anyway.

“Are you sure?” She asked as if I hadn’t spoken. “Because I was just walking by the beach now… such lovely waves today; shame you missed them… and guess who I saw?”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Your husband… I mean your ex-husband with that… man.”

My stomach dropped half an inch, but I held my face steady.

“The moment I saw them together, it all just came rushing back to me how humiliated you must feel. He’s such a jerk; they both are.” She paused, sitting down on the couch despite being uninvited to do so.

“When it happened,” she continued, “I didn’t know exactly who it was he cheated with. I tried asking the staff, but you know how they are… lips sealed, very professional, very unhelpful. But finally hearing that the other man was your brother? Gracious!” Her hands flew to her chest.

“I can’t even imagine how it feels, I mean, the double treachery.” I stared at her, stunned at how casually she said all of this in my suite, with my heartbreak still fresh and barely glued together.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing national secrets.

“I mean, it’s unfathomable. Couldn’t he at least find someone else?” I clenched my jaw because what did one even say to that? And she gave a loud, tragic sigh and touched my arm like she was consoling a widow in a soap opera. “So,” she asked again, for the third time in under two minutes, “how are you feeling?”

I let out a slow breath. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, good,” she chirped, clearly ignoring the tension strangling the air. “I just had to come check.” I could only gape at her, bewildered that this woman genuinely believed coming to tell me this was appropriate, helpful, or remotely sane.

A knock sounded at the door right at that moment, and I had never been so relieved. “Come in!” I called out, feeling like the person couldn’t enter soon enough. But that eagerness dissolved instantly the moment they came into view.

Nikolai