The chill wind blowing fades and I feel my vague sense of worry slip away. Once I lay my eyes on that beach I can't for the life of me remember what I was fussing about. Miles and miles of white hot tropical sand and no one here but us, me and my smiling gal. She gives me a kiss, open-mouthed and naughty, her teeth nipping my tongue.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as she backs away, peeling off her top. "What were we thinking wearing these heavy clothes?" she asks as I struggle to pull my sweater vest over my head. "We're fools," I say and we explode into laughter.

"Darling," she pouts a moment later, giving me a look worth dying for. "I think the cabana is locked. I can't see that dreadful attendant anywhere."

I scan the beach and shake my head. "Hard to find good help these days. Let me see if I can't force the door open."

To reach the door I must climb on the cross beams supporting the cabana in the most undignified manner. The screen looks flimsy enough. I hope to pop the staples from the frame without tearing the mesh. The management would have little to complain about when they come to repair it.

She calls to me that she's going for a swim and I shout over my shoulder not to go too far out alone, and that if waits a moment I'll join her. The screen, however, is fixed in place more tightly than I suspected and, after a quick glance around, I ram my fist into it. It holds but loosened, so I try again. After a third time I've punched my way through but I can't reach the door handle. It dawns on me that I will have to pay for these damages. Worries for another day.

Now I do something foolish. Frustrated with the lack of leverage I have standing on the cross beams, I climb until I'm grasping the roof. Behind me I hear my lady sing out to me and I tell her I'll be done in a moment. I draw back my leg and swing forward with all my might, sending the screen and door fly inward and me tumbling after.

I see stars and realize I must have hit my head in the fall. I try to blink them away to no avail. She calls out to me again, likely having witnessed the tremendous ass I've made of myself. I turn to wave, leaning on the door frame as my vision swims. I curse myself for ruining our romantic getaway with my silly machismo when I notice the lady's new friends.

As if having emerged from the froth of crashing waves, she's running in circles with delightful screams as two playful dogs chase after her. A wave bowls over her and the three go down in the foam. The dogs pounce and cover her face with kisses.

"Hey now, she's spoken for!" I shout with a good-natured wave, but the sudden motion makes me reel and queasiness floods over me. My head throbs and I try to call out to her but for a terrifying instant I can't remember her name, and all I can hear is the roaring of the waves and my head throbs. Am I having a stroke? My throbbing head.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, I think. The throbbing. "I'm blacking out," I call as I lose my peripheral vision. I stumble backwards into the cabana, upsetting the drink cart and clattering ice cubes onto the floor.

"Forgive me," I shout from my back, but I fear my words are lost amid the wind, the surf, and her cries.