Wednesday was in her element. She brought her arms to her chest and pushed out, kicking her legs out against the current of the sea. It was warm, undercurrents of cooler water surrounding her every now and then. Sunshine sparkled on top of the water, momentarily blinding her, even with the sunglasses perched on her nose. It was hot. Blisteringly so. She could already feel the burn forming on her shoulders. But she didn't care. Swimming in the ocean was like her ideal form of therapy. It was the activity, besides drumming, that brought her the purest form of happiness. Worries melted from her brain the second she stepped into the waves and let herself just be.

The beach was private to the resort, meaning that besides her and Zara, there were only a handful of others there. No screaming children or angsty teenagers. It was bliss, to hear nothing but the sound of the waves and the trees swaying in the breeze. Faint music drifted from the resort and she looked out towards the endless horizon, wishing she could swim forever.

Slowly, she began to swim back, seeing the beach coming into view again. Her feet touched the seabed, sand squishing between her toes. She waded through the waves until inch by inch her body left the water. Her feet meet the dry sand as water dropped down her body, over her black bikini. Salt from the ocean covered her skin and she squeezed some of the water from her loose hair.

She walked to where her bed was, looking down to where Zara was laid out on the next bed in her white bikini. She'd braided her hair and thrown it up into a messy bun on top of her head. Gold necklaces adorned her skin, whilst various hoop earrings of all shapes and designs lined her earlobes. A small, black pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose, atop of her bare face. To finish off the look, she'd been sat with a constant glass of wine in her hand since they'd come down to the beach 3 hours previously.

A true bad bitch if Wednesday had ever seen one.

"Are you gonna go in? It's beautiful in there," Wednesday said, sitting on her deck chair and laying back onto the towel, readjusting her bikini straps.

"Not unless the sea will refill my glass for me," she replied, taking a sip from the wine. "Are you sure you've not turned into a prune? You were in there for bare time."

"You know I'm a water baby at heart," Wednesday grinned, picking up the sunscreen and applying more to her arms.

"Really? I'd never have guessed," she replied, thick with sarcasm. She turned around, flagging down one of the attendants on the beach and ordering another glass of wine. "She'll have one too," she added, nodding in Wednesday's direction.

Wednesday's eyes widened at her, pausing her movement.

"What?" Zara said defensively. "It's holiday. If you can't drink all day here, where can you?"

"I mean, you're not wrong, but you keep drinking the way you have been for the past two days and you're going to deplete the entire stock of wine from the island."

"Fantastic. Gives me a chance to move onto the rum then."

Wednesday laughed, shaking her head. She rubbed the sunscreen in, making sure she was covered before laying back and relaxing.

"So, what're you gonna do when you get back?" Zara asked, tilting her glasses as she looked over at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, about the Harry situation," Zara replied, her eyebrows raised knowingly. "He'll be back from America by the time you get back, won't he? So, the whole avoid and talk as little as possible strategy you've had going on won't be effective for much longer."

Sighing, Wednesday looked out to the sea. "I have no clue."

She pursed her lips in annoyance as she noticed all the couples surrounding them. Drinking together, laughing at jokes, rubbing sunscreen onto each other. There was even a couple in the ocean that looked slightly too close for comfort, the woman straddling the man's waist. It was typical, that Wednesday had come on holiday to escape her problems and yet, everywhere she looked, it just reminded her of them.

Or at least, one of them.

"We need to strategize. Think up some plans," Zara said.

"Alright James Bond, calm down," Wednesday replied. "We're figuring out what to do about my feelings, not drawing up a plan to rob a bank."

"Well, the way you talk about it, you'd forgive me for thinking the stakes were equally as high," Zara replied, clicking her tongue.

"They are for me!" Wednesday said, slouching down further into her chair. "If I keep it to myself, I risk potential heartbreak. And if I tell him, I also risk potential heartbreak."

Harry's face swirled in her mind, making butterflies erupt in her tummy. Now that she was conscious of the way she felt about him, she was almost scared to let him enter her thoughts, unsure of the effect it would have on her. But it didn't stop him from being at the forefront of her mind constantly. It really did bring a new meaning to living in someone's head rent free.

"Okay, but wouldn't you rather know than not know?" Zara said. "You don't want to live your life constantly asking 'what if?'."

There was truth in Zara's words. Since their chat on the first night, Wednesday had allowed herself to explore the possibility of being truly open with him, laying everything on the line. Telling him how she felt. Though the thought alone gave her crippling anxiety and induced an instant need for alcohol, it would be a start to breaking down the layers she'd built up around herself. Her heart specifically. At the very least, even if everything else went to shit, Sade would be proud of her for progressing.

A small victory in an absolute shit storm.

"I know, I know. It's just scary. I feel ill thinking about it."

She wasn't sure yet if she could do it. If she was strong enough to tell the man she'd spent the past 15 years with as her closest friend, the truth about her feelings towards him. The aftermath of the one-time they'd been intimate haunted her, reminding her of everything that could go wrong. At this point, it was just one of the many options on the table.

"Hypothetically, if you did decide to tell him—how would you do it?" Zara asked.

Oh god. She'd not even gone that far in her mind yet. The waiter came back with their drinks, planting them on the small table between their beds. Wednesday took hers instantly, needing the booze.

"I imagine with a boatload of alcohol swimming through my bloodstream," Wednesday said dryly, a vague tone of hopelessness in her voice.

"I think you just sit him down, undo his belt, get on your knees and see what happens," Zara shrugged, making Wednesday choke on her sip of wine, spluttering everywhere.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that would go down well. Skip the feelings part, dive in headfirst. Literally."

"All I'm saying is I don't think he'd refuse."

"Most men wouldn't if you put someone on their knees in front of them!"

Zara pursed her bottom lip out, not arguing with that fact. "Do you know what we need to do?"

"What?" Wednesday replied unsurely, scared to hear any more of her ideas if they were going to be anything like the last one.

"Take some fire photos of you and then upload them to insta. See if he says anything or likes them."

"That isn't gonna work. He's meticulous with what he likes on social media so that the media can't create any stories."

"Didn't he like a tweet from a girl asking who'd lick her fingers clean a few years ago?" Zara asked, pushing down her glasses to show her pinched brows.

Wednesday cringed at the memory. "I mean, yeah. He did do that. But I like to think he's learnt something from that experience now."

"Well, even so, I think we should still take some photos of you and upload them. Maybe we can make him admit he's caught feelings first."

Wednesday shook her head, silently letting Zara live in the fantasy she'd constructed in her mind where her feelings were returned by Harry. Which was certainly not the case in reality.

She wasn't one for pictures of herself, feeling somewhat shy when the camera was pointed in her direction, but she guessed it couldn't have hurt. If not for Harry, then for herself.

That night, after they'd both had a quick nap and gotten ready, Wednesday walked out to the living room area to the sound of wolf whistles coming from Zara on the sofa. She'd pushed herself out of her comfort zone with her outfit tonight, knowing they were going to a fancy restaurant further south on the island. She'd opted for a black sheer dress with blue flower embellishment running over it—the corset top pushed her boobs up, whilst the see-through bottom meant the black bodysuit underneath was the only thing keeping her covered.

She swallowed, looking down to it unsurely. "This a world away from my baggy t-shirts and joggers."

"Weds, you look amazing either way, but in this you're irresistible. Fuck, if this doesn't make Harry want to wife you up, I'll do it myself," Zara replied, eyes wide as she took in the dress.

Wednesday grinned, smoothing her hands over the fabric lightly. "Life would be a lot easier if we just fell for each other."

"Yeah, but unfortunately we're not that lucky, so we've just got to get on with the hand fate has dealt us."

"Hate that for us," Wednesday mumbled under her breath, sighing and walking over to the large mirror in the room.

As she flicked her hair over her shoulder, placing her hand on her waist to check how she looked, Zara moved from the sofa quickly.

"Wait, keep looking in the mirror like that."

"What are you—" Wednesday began to ask, but the sound of a camera going off stopped her.

She looked down to see Zara crouching to her side, taking photos of her on her phone.

"This lighting is perfect. Plus, candid photos are always nicer than posed. Just keep looking at yourself and doing what you're doing."

"Bit hard when you're sat there crouching and taking photos," she mumbled, going back to checking her appearance and trying to seem as normal as possible, despite the clicks going off every other second.

Zara stood up after a minute, looking down to the camera roll with a smile.

"There. Tonnes of photos to choose from and every single option is banging."

Wednesday took her phone, scrolling through with her lip caught between her teeth. She expected to hate them, the way she hated 99% of the photos taken of her. But surprisingly, she didn't mind them. In fact, she'd go as far to say that she actually looked pretty.

"These are amazing Zara," she beamed.

"I know. Vogue should hire me."

"They already have," Wednesday said, rolling her eyes with a grin.

"Oh yeah, you're right," Zara replied with a smug smile. "Anyway, let's set off. Don't wanna miss our reservation."

When they arrived at their table half an hour later and had ordered all of their food, along with plenty of booze, Wednesday scrolled through the photos anxiously. It was so unlike her to post something like this to her Instagram; usually it was either pictures of her on the drums, books she'd recently picked up or nice views she'd spotted on her travels. It was the best way to avoid bad comments, even if it did make her seem like 50-year-old divorcee.

Plus, the idea on Zara's end that it would suddenly make Harry confess some type of deep love for her was completely idiotic. And yet, she was curious to post it. To see if any type of reaction would come from it. She felt 16 all over again. Wanting a boy to think she was pretty. It gave her some type of sad nostalgia thinking about it.

After singling out the best photo and typing out the caption Zara had suggested—'a candid that's actually candid'—she hit the upload button and left the phone face down on the table for the rest of the night.

It was only when they were two bottles of champagne in that Zara excitedly checked the likes herself, squealing excitedly to confirm that Harry had indeed liked the post.

"See, I told you! The man has TASTE."

"Shut up," Wednesday laughed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks at the fact he'd liked it.

Oh god. She really was acting like a 16-year-old again. Over an Instagram like. Christ, she truly did need help.

They spent the next few days packing as many activities into their holiday as they could. One day they chartered a boat out for the day, watching the sunset as they lazed on the deck. Another, they went hiking around the island, both panting as they came to various peaks on the mountain sides. On one day in particular, Wednesday had begged Zara to go scuba diving and after agreeing to a compromise that involved her singing karaoke with her later that night, they'd got suited up and explored the seabed alongside their instructor. They'd also had as many massages as possible, visiting the resort spa every morning.

Wednesday's back had never been so knot free.

The last day came quicker than Wednesday wanted it to. She'd managed to gain a golden tan and her freckles had reappeared, covering her entire nose and forehead. Harry hadn't text her since the first night they'd arrived, nor had she contacted him, and she guessed it was his way of letting her enjoy her time away. It didn't mean she hadn't wanted to talk to him though, or that he hadn't occupied her mind constantly. He'd now even started popping up in her dreams, taunting her even when she was unconscious.

But now that she was a day away from returning back to reality, anxiety was hitting her hard over seeing him again. Zara and herself had discussed multiple options for what she should do, one even being to run away to Thailand and start a new life for herself—Zara's suggestion. But she hadn't actually decided on something. At the minute, it was still all hypotheticals and 'what ifs'. Hardly helpful.

She took her hands off of the jet ski she was sat atop, looking across the water to where Zara was also slowing down. They'd rented them for a couple of hours, wanting to have some fun on their last day. Wednesday ignored the fact that the last time she'd been on one was with Harry, her hands wrapped around his waist as her head was laid on his back. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"This week has gone so fast," Wednesday said, looking back at the view of the resort, hidden amongst the mountain side.

"I know. I don't want to face reality again just yet," Zara whined, letting her jet ski turn off too.

They rocked slowly with the waves, silently taking in the view of it all during the day for the final time.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Zara asked quietly a minute later and Wednesday turned to see her staring over at her.

"Yeah. I just...I don't know what to do. No option seems even remotely easy."

"That's because none of them are. I think with this, you've just got to rip the band aid off and assess the damage after. Whatever you decide."

Wednesday sighed, nodding her agreeance. It didn't take a genius to know that she had to do something—she couldn't continue living a lie. Not now she had a full understanding of her heart and its desires. Whatever option she chose, it needed to be for her. She'd spent so long not putting herself first and running from her problems that now she owed it to herself to tackle them head on. If that meant moving on professionally or distancing herself, then that was what she would have to do. It would suck, but for a good reason.

"Want to race back to the docking station?" Wednesday asked, hoping to defuse the conversation. And also satisfy her insane competitiveness.

"You're on. Just know, I'm gonna win," Zara said, putting her sunglasses back on.

Wednesday smirked, knowing that statement was incorrect.

After the race back, which Wednesday did indeed win by playing dirty and splashing water over Zara to throw her off course, they went back to their room and sat on the balcony, watching the sun lower.

For their last night, they'd opted to go eat food at the quaint but extremely fancy restaurant just down the road. Once again getting dressed up and putting full faces of makeup on, they were shown to their seats on the all-white terrace. Wednesday looked around at the couples surrounding them, noticing how every single one of them looked rich.

They ordered platters of seafood, along with a pitcher each of rum punch.

It didn't take long for the drink to go their heads.

"This holiday has been so fun man," Wednesday slurred hours later, when their food had long since been finished. "Let's book another one."

Zara, who was laid out on the sofa opposite her with her sunglasses on, smiled hazily.

"Yeah. Should we just quit our jobs and travel the world?" she replied, hiccoughing.

"I'm down," Wednesday said.

"Only cause you want to avoid Harry," Zara said matter-of-factly, leaning back and looking up to the black sky.

"And what of it?" Wednesday grinned, shrugging. "I think I'd be equally as happy in life if I moved to the jungle and lived out my days as an explorer."

"Yeah, they also called Christopher Columbus an 'explorer' too, though I think there's a much more fitting word for him."

"Coloniser?" Wednesday said, furrowing her brows.

"Cunt," Zara said, nodding her head.

They both laughed in unison, the type of drunk giggles you only get when you're past the point of no return. Wednesday's laughs died down as she sadly smiled over at Zara.

"I miss you, you know. Miss going for our weekly coffee and cake debriefs. And coming over to your grotty flat to watch gossip girl."

Zara pouted her lips, pulling down her glasses so that her bloodshot eyes were visible.

"I miss you too. I love Dubai, but nothing ever compares to Hackney. It's rubbish that you're not a 10-minute tube ride away anymore." Her voice was hoarse, but it always was when she was drunk. "Mind you, I definitely do not miss that fucking grim flat. It had mushrooms growing in the bathroom, the mould was that bad."

"Yeah, you need your lungs checking after living there. Breathing in all that damp was definitely not good for you."

Zara shrugged, taking another swig of the punch.

"Nah. What will be, will be."

Wednesday fiddled with a piece of thread from her skirt, the alcohol flooding her with nostalgia.

"Weird isn't it. How quicky everything changes."

"Yeah. This time last year you were still dating that blonde prick and fully convinced he was the one. Now, you're secretly in love with your boss and attending therapy after a mini breakdown."

Wednesday closed her eyes, a deep laugh coming from within her. Lines formed around her mouth and eyes as she failed to hold back her laugh, bringing her hand up and over her mouth as the other clutched her stomach. Only Zara could make that statement to her and elicit belly laughs.