Costa Rican Love

The salt air tasted different when she wasn't looking over her shoulder. Erina stood at the edge of the sand where the last wave had reached, her fingers wrapped around the old phone that had once been an extension of her hand. Three years of messages from Irving still lived in that black rectangle. Three years of gaslighting and apologies that meant nothing. She pulled her arm back and let it fly. The phone disappeared beneath the surface with a small, final splash.

She wiped her hands on her cutoffs and turned toward the boardwalk. The Salty Dog Bar sat right where Jules had described it, a weathered building with a neon anchor sign that flickered like it might give up any second. Music drifted out the open door along with laughter and the smell of fried fish. Her stomach tightened the way it always did when she walked into a new place alone, but she kept moving.

Jules spotted her immediately from behind the bar. The pink hair was impossible to miss. "You made it," she called out, already reaching for a glass. "What are we drinking?"

Erina slid onto a stool. "Something that won't make me regret tomorrow."

"Coming right up." Jules mixed something clear with lime and slid it across. "On the house for the new girl who finally threw her phone in the ocean. Don't look so surprised. Everyone here knows everyone's business eventually."

Erina took a sip. The drink was sharp and cold and exactly what she needed. "I didn't realize it was public knowledge."

"Small town. Plus you told me last week when you came in for water." Jules wiped down the bar with quick, practiced motions. "I figured you'd do it eventually. Most people who come here running from something do."

They talked while the bar filled around them. Jules had grown up two towns over and came back after a bad tour with her band. She didn't push for details about Mark, and Erina was grateful. The conversation felt easy in a way she hadn't experienced in years.

The sun dropped lower, turning the water gold and then orange. Erina turned on her stool to watch it, the drink warm in her chest now. She was still watching when a man appeared at her elbow.

"You look like someone who needs company for a sunset," he said. He had curly dark hair and a grin that suggested he practiced it. "I'm Will. This round's on me."

Before she could answer, he signaled Jules for two more drinks. Erina glanced at her new friend, who gave a small shrug that said your call.

"I'm Erina," she said. "And I was actually enjoying the quiet."

Will laughed like she'd told a joke. He pulled up the stool beside her anyway. "Then I'll keep it short. I'm from San José originally. Costa Rica. You ever been?"

"No."

"You should. The beaches there make this place look like a parking lot. But this coast has its own charm. I could show you around if you want. There's a spot past the cliffs that hardly anyone knows about."

Erina turned her glass in a slow circle. "I'm not looking for anything right now. Not a date. Not a boyfriend. I just moved here to figure some things out."

"Who said anything about dating?" Will's smile didn't waver. "I just like showing people a good time. No pressure. Scout's honor."

She studied his face. He seemed harmless enough, all energy and charm, the kind of guy who filled silence before it could settle. "A friend would be nice," she said carefully. "But that's it."

"Friends it is." He raised his glass. "To new beginnings and secret beaches."

They talked for another half hour. He told her about the market in San José where his grandmother used to sell fruit, about learning to surf when he was eight, about the difference between the Pacific and Caribbean sides of his country. She listened more than she spoke. When he asked about her, she gave the short version. Photographer. From Connecticut originally. Needed a change.

At some point Jules appeared again. "Last call for you two. I'm closing early tonight."

Will pulled a napkin from the bar and wrote his number on it. "Secret beach tomorrow? I promise you'll love it. Just text me."

Erina took the napkin. She didn't say yes, but she didn't throw it away either. "Thanks for the drinks."

He left first, still smiling, already telling someone near the door about the girl he'd just met. Erina watched him go, then looked at Jules.

"Be careful with that one," Jules said, drying a glass. "He's sweet until he's not. I've seen him fall in love three times this year already. Usually with women who said the same thing you did."

"I was pretty clear."

"Yeah, well, some guys hear 'no' like it's a puzzle to solve." Jules leaned on the bar. "You want another drink or you heading out?"

Erina checked the time on the bar clock. "I think I'm done for the night."

She walked home along the beach path, the napkin still in her pocket. The moon was up now, bright enough to see the water moving. She felt lighter than she had in months. Not fixed. Not healed. But lighter. The weight of Mark's voice in her head had quieted, at least for tonight.

Behind her, at the bar, Will was still talking. Jules heard him tell the same story to three different people. The girl from the bar. The one he was going to marry. Jules rolled her eyes and kept working.

Erina reached her small rental and unlocked the door. She set her keys on the counter and looked at the empty space where her phone used to charge. The silence felt strange and good at the same time. She pulled the napkin from her pocket, stared at the number for a moment, then tucked it into a drawer.

Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought. Tonight she was just glad to be alone in a place where no one expected anything from her.