Solo Honeymoon [patched] | Scarlett Jones

A French photographer named Luc asked if she was a model. She laughed—a real, rusty laugh—and said no. He asked if she was married. She looked at the turquoise water, then at the empty ring finger where a diamond had briefly sat.

She ordered two entrées at the beachfront grill—his usual spicy tuna, her favorite mango salad. She ate both. It was the most she’d eaten in a month. scarlett jones solo honeymoon

So she uninvited the fifty guests. She returned the ring. She kept the honeymoon. A French photographer named Luc asked if she was a model

She had planned this trip for eighteen months. The deposit on the overwater bungalow in Bora Bora was non-refundable. The seat next to her on the plane—the one where his tall frame should have been spilling into her shoulder—was empty. She looked at the turquoise water, then at