On a solo trip to Tenerife, Ava sits down to enjoy dessert at her resort — until an entitled couple demands she stop eating it in front of their kids. When her tiramisu mysteriously vanishes and the waiter refuses to bring another, Ava realizes this dinner’s about to turn dramatic.
It only took one perfect spoonful of mango gelato, eaten barefoot on volcanic sand, to remind me that I belonged to myself.
That was this trip in a nutshell.
The first few months of the year had felt like someone had thrown gas onto a dumpster fire.
When things finally settled down, I’d booked a solo vacation in Tenerife.
I’d spent my first day wandering coastal trails, ducking into sleepy seaside cafés, and buying bracelets from a woman who kissed my hand when I tipped her too much.
I’d forgotten what it felt like to not rush, to take up space without checking in with anyone.
Now, I was on my balcony with the Atlantic breeze in my hair, watching the sky melt into streaks of soft amber and rose gold.
It was the kind of view that makes deadlines and group chats vanish.
I lifted my glass of sparkling water (tomorrow’s an early hike) and smiled.
My stomach let out a little grumble then, and I checked the time.
If I took a slow walk downstairs, I’d arrive just as they started serving dinner.
I’d chosen this all-inclusive resort specifically because of the club-style dining: all the tables sat eight people, and everyone got seated together.
Apparently, it encouraged conversation and a sense of community. The real perk for me was that I didn’t have to hunt around for eateries or try to decipher menus in European Spanish using the broken classroom version that had never helped me much in the real world.
As predicted, the dining room was mostly empty when I arrived.
The hostess led me to a table, and the waiter, a friendly guy named Miguel, arrived soon afterward to take my order: grilled fish and roasted vegetables, nothing too fancy. But when he asked about dessert, my eyes lit up.
“The tiramisu,” I said without hesitation.
The grilled fish was divine, and the roasted vegetables had just the right amount of paprika and garlic.
But I was mainly looking forward to my dessert. There’s nothing better after finishing a delicious dinner than having someone bring you something sweet and indulgent.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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