Vanessa stepped out into the bright Jamaican sunshine, taking a deep breath of the fragrant ocean air. After a smooth flight and quick shuttle ride, she arrived at the stunning all-inclusive resort.


Making her way along a stone pathway, she gazed at the postcard-worthy sights. Swaying palm trees dotted lush green grass leading down to a pristine white beach. The crystal blue ocean sparkled, waves lapping gently along the shore.


Vanessa found the open-air restaurant near the pool area and patio bar. She sat down and ordered the jerk chicken when the server came to take her order. Vanessa was eager to try authentic Jamaican cuisine. Looking around at families and couples laughing together, she felt a touch of melancholy.


How she wished Harrison could have experienced this trip with her. He would have loved lounging by the pool with a beer, teasing her about the trashy romance novels she brought. She smiled thinking of him.


The food arrived, snapping Vanessa back to the present. The aromas of the jerk spices and mango chutney filled the air. She took a bite of the perfectly cooked chicken, savoring the taste with her eyes closed in pleasure.


This was exactly the tropical bliss she had hoped for. She dined leisurely, enjoying the light tropical breeze. Afterward, she decided to wander along the beach as the sun began its descent toward the horizon.


Vanessa slipped off her sandals, letting her feet sink into the soft sand. Gentle waves lapped at her ankles as she walked aimlessly. She spotted a bar set up down the beach, lively music drifting across the water.


Making her way over, she ordered a rum punch and found a cozy seating area. Sipping her cold drink, Vanessa watched the sun paint the sky in dazzling orange and pink hues.


"Vanessa Phillips?" a deep male voice said from behind her. She turned, not recognizing the handsome, middle-aged man with the truffle brown complexion smiling down at her. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place him.


"Yes, that's me," she replied, startled someone knew her name. Had they met before? It must have been a long time ago since he'd used her maiden name.

She searched his face, trying to figure out the connection.


"It's me, Bryce. Bryce Warren," he said warmly. Vanessa's jaw dropped in disbelief. Her first love, her high school sweetheart Bryce, was standing before her.


She took in his tall, burly frame, graying beard, and the same sparkling eyes she remembered. It couldn't be, yet here he was. After thirty years, fate had somehow reunited them miles away from home.


Vanessa was at a total loss for words…


******


Bryce strolled along the beach, taking in the sights and sounds of families enjoying the resort. He had just finished a lazy afternoon lounging by the pool after arriving that morning.


As he approached the lively beach bar, the smell of fresh seafood and the sound of reggae music filled the air. Bryce decided to stop for a drink before dinner and found a seat at the counter.


"Red Stripe, please," he told the bartender, gazing out at the waves as he waited. His eyes landed on a woman sitting alone watching the reggae band, sipping some colorful tropical drink and nodding her head to the music.


Even from a distance, he could make out her natural beauty. She was tall and full-figured, with brown skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Her long braided hair was swept over one shoulder, partially obscured by the large sun hat she wore.


The woman sat gracefully in a bright yellow maxi dress that complimented her complexion perfectly. She had an air of confidence and warmth that drew Bryce's attention. He squinted, something about her seeming familiar.


As the bartender set down his beer, the woman turned her head and Bryce froze. Those gentle eyes and high cheekbones were unmistakable now. It was his high school love, Vanessa Phillips.


Bryce watched her for a moment, astonished. He hadn't seen Vanessa in thirty years, not since their heartbreaking split during college when they couldn't make the long-distance work. What were the chances they'd both be vacationing in Jamaica at the same resort?


Grabbing his beer, Bryce made his way over before he lost his nerve. He used to dream of this moment, seeing Vanessa again, though he never imagined it would happen. His heart pounded as he approached.


"Vanessa Phillips?" Bryce said, still stunned. She turned to him, confusion flashing across her face. He gave a nervous smile. "It's me, Bryce. Bryce Warren."


Vanessa's eyes went wide with shock. For a moment, they just stood there staring at each other. The sounds of the bar faded away, the years apart seeming to disappear.

Bryce...oh my God," Vanessa finally said, her voice filled with disbelief. "Is it really you?"


Bryce grinned, equally astonished. "Yeah Nessa, it's me. I can't believe it either."


Vanessa shook her head, laughing now. "This is crazy. Of all the resorts, in all the world, we walk into the same one."


"I know, what are the odds?" Bryce chuckled. He gestured to the empty seat beside her. "Do you mind if I join you for a minute?"


"Not at all. Please, sit," Vanessa said, smiling warmly, her initial shock wearing off.

Bryce sat down, taking in the woman before him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. They met each other's gaze, the chemistry still palpable after so many years apart.


"How have you been?" Bryce asked. "It's been so long. You look incredible."


Vanessa tucked a braid behind her ear. "I've been well. Life has its ups and downs, but I can't complain. And look at you, Bryce Warren. Still just as handsome."


They both laughed, the flirtatious tone feeling natural.


"It's been a lifetime, hasn't it?" Bryce said. "What brings you to Jamaica?"


"Just needed to get away for a bit," Vanessa replied. "How about you?"


"Same here. I guess we had the same idea to come relax."


They sat in silence for a moment, just smiling. Their running into each other like this after thirty years just had to be a coincidence…