“Old habits,” I say, taking another bite.
“Think those old habits plan on staying old?”
I sense there's more to it. The way he bites his lip and looks away makes it pretty obvious.
“I mean, when you’re back in Amsterdam,” he continues, “How do you see yourself?”
My fingers curl the edges of the paper bag between us. I look down, watch a flake of arepa fall to the ground.
I’ve asked myself the same question more times than I can count.
“I feel like I’m in a good place right now, and I’m not planning on going back to how things were. That version of me… he’s done. Or at least, I’d like him to be.”
“But?”
There’s always a but, isn’t there?
“But honestly, it scares the hell out of me. What if I fail? What if I go back and slip right into my old habits? Like nothing ever changed?”
“A relapse isn’t unusual,” he says quickly. “It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Having support helps. I’m going to get youscheduled with a psychologist on Erin’s team so they can work with you on those thoughts. How to loosen their grip, so they don’t take things over like they used to do. Only if you’re up for it, ofcourse. You can continue therapy in Amsterdam, Arcadia has a spa and therapy resort there.”
“I don’t know… I need to think about it.”
“Talking to someone who understands helps a lot too.”
I smirk, unable to resist.
“That means I’ll need to kidnap you.”
I’m not sure if I’m joking myself, but he doesn’t laugh like I expect. He doesn’t give me anything at all. He crosses his arms, looking at the tree that is growing out of the shed. When those warm brown eyes find their way back to me, a new tension rises between us. Not the usual teasing energy, but the more careful, serious kind.
He parts his lips.
“Who says you need to leave?”
Well, shit. Did that just happen?
Is he asking me to stay? That must’ve been a five-star handjob this morning.
I must give something away—my idiot face, probably—because he plants his hands on the tiles to get up, hesitates, then stays put. Instinct has him scanning for the nearest exit, except there isn’t one. We’re wide out in the open.
The breeze lifts a strand of hair off his forehead, then drops it right back at the side of his face. He swallows.
“I mean…” He clears his throat. “When your trajectory at Arcadia is over, but you don’t feel like going back to Amsterdam yet, why not stay a bit longer on the island? Work on your music. Take your time. There’s no rush.”
Nice save there, and it actually sounds pretty simple. Maybe that’s why I overlooked that possibility.
I’d assumed I’d go back to Amsterdam after Arcadia. At least, that’s what Jay expects.
But what if I stayed a little longer?
Just flirting with the idea makes the pressure in my chest ease.
Maybe not going back at all.
“Perhaps you're right,” I say, feeling more confident about it by the second. “Calvin’s got some projects I could work on. Maybe I’ll extend my sabbatical. Write, record, mess around without any deadlines or pressure.”
Yosh nods, “I think that sounds like a solid plan. You need more time.”
