Dirty Girl

The Ring Toss

Jordan fell into bed that night, emotions churning so violently inside her, she felt like she might come apart at the seams. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jake—how he’d spun her effortlessly around the dance floor at the luau, the stars winking above them like they were in on some secret. That sweetness, that spark, had been eclipsed far too quickly by the bitterness of seeing Jake’s hand resting gently on the small of Amanda’s back.

After ending the call with Caleb, she had wandered back to the party to find Jake. She spotted him near the tiki bar, his back turned. As she got closer, she saw Amanda beside him. They were talking and laughing, and then—just like that—her breath caught. There it was. That touch. The same intimate gesture he’d made with her only hours before.

Jordan paused, watching from the edge of the crowd. A wistful smile crept across her face. She wanted him to be happy—he deserved that. But damn it, so did she. Didn’t she?

She walked over to Brooklyn, who was gleefully bopping around on the dance floor. Jordan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Brooklyn spun around with a delighted squeal, “Jordan!” She flung her arms around Jordan’s neck, swaying with her like a child playing dress-up. The sweet scent of rum clung to her breath as she giggled. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving! It’s waaaaay too much fun here to ever leave.”

Jordan chuckled softly. “It really was a wonderful evening. But I’m beat. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She hugged Brooklyn again and added with a wink, “I’ll bring the Tylenol.”

Brooklyn giggled. “OK, Mom!”

Jordan’s smile widened. She liked being called Mom. She liked being seen as nurturing. Steady. Wise.

Later, curled on her side, she stuffed the duvet between her knees and flipped the pillow to find the cooler side. As she adjusted it, her eyes landed on her wedding ring. She wondered—would tonight bring more nightmares of her ex-husband?

For twenty years, sleep had become a haunted ritual. In dream after dream, she’d find herself back in that house—overcrowded with clutter, stuffed with furniture they couldn’t afford. The place bulged with debt and desperation. They were always about to be evicted, hiding from the bank, trying to clean, to fix, to rearrange. But nothing ever stayed clean. Nothing ever got better. Her ex would be there, fiddling with something, always making things worse. And she would feel helpless—powerless—knowing it would all be taken away anyway.

She’d wake up shaken, heart racing, unable to remember exactly what he’d done to scare her so badly. She just knew she’d wanted him gone. And that he wouldn’t go.

Twenty years, and the fear was still vivid.

She twisted the gold band on her finger. Then, rolling onto her back, she slipped it off and held it up toward the ceiling.

You know what? I’m ready to stop wearing this thing.

Then a new idea unfurled in her mind. She shoved the ring back on, got dressed quickly, and opened the door.

“Going somewhere?” Jake asked, leaning against the doorframe, wearing that deep, dimpled smile that made her knees go weak.

She grinned. “Doing site inspections at 2 a.m., are we?”

“You could say that,” he replied. “Just making sure nothing’s been left on that shouldn’t be.”

Before she could reply, he scooped her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried her inside and kicked the door shut behind them.

He laid her down softly on the bed, his mouth finding hers. He teased her lips gently, then kissed his way down her neck, his hands exploring her curves over the soft fabric of her sundress.

“Jordan, you make me so hard,” he murmured, lifting her dress over her head as he peeled off his shirt, revealing golden skin and tight, sculpted muscles.

She traced her fingertips across the ridges of his abs, down his stomach, across his hips, her hands exploring with a kind of reverence. She cupped his backside, first tenderly, then with a hunger that surprised even her.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” Jake said, rubbing the length of his arousal teasingly against her.

“I want you inside me. Please,” she whispered, locking eyes with him before surrendering to sensation.

They climaxed together, a perfect, breathless union.

Afterwards, as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, Jake propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “So, tell me, sweet girl… where were you really going when I got here?”

Jordan bit her lip. She’d hadn't told him much about her past—certainly not about Caleb’s father. Not about the ghosts she still carried.

How would he react if she told him the truth? That after almost two decades of single motherhood and sacrifice, she was finally ready to throw her wedding ring into the ocean—and with it, the belief that she’d never love again?

Jake interrupted her thoughts gently. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I… um…” she stammered, words catching in her throat. She wanted to confide in him. She just didn’t know how.

Then an idea struck her. “Will you come with me? There’s something I need to do.”

“Now?” he said, glancing at the clock. “It’s nearly three a.m. Can’t it wait?”

“Nope,” she said, suddenly energized. “I’ve waited long enough. I’m doing this now.”

She was already up, slipping her panties back on and tugging her crumpled sundress over her head. Jake stretched, then stood and followed her.

“Wherever you go, I shall follow,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss before they stepped out into the night.

The beach was quiet, the moon casting a silver sheen over the water.

“While other people in Maui are perching on mountaintops right now, waiting to greet the sunrise,” Jordan said softly, “we’re here with our toes in the surf.”

She looked at Jake, surprised by the clarity and confidence running through her veins. Then she looked down at her hand, sighed, and twisted off the ring.

Without hesitation, she flung it into the waves.

Freedom crashed over her with the tide. She laughed—then tears sprang to her eyes.

Jake looked at her with concern. “You okay?”

She nodded, pointing to her tears. “These are tears of relief. Of pride. Of hope for the future.”

He tilted his head, watching her. “Want to elaborate?”