I nod. “And here.”
She tilts her head. “I love that you’re always here and I can come hang out with you and Chip whenever I want. But is this really where you want to be long-term?”
“You know the answer to that,” I say.
“Why didn’t you want to work for his foundation?”
“Because it felt like I’d be giving up my identity for someone I barely knew. Like he was willing to try this with me outside of the resort, but only on his terms. Only if I quit blogging and gave up my dream.” Even as I say the words, they feel like a lie. But in the moment, that’s how it felt.
Looking back, I can see now that he was trying to reach for some way for us to be together past our time on the island. He’s complicated, and he often holds a lot inside. He was starting to give those things to me.
I never even gave the idea of a normal nine-to-five position working with a foundation a chance. I’m so used to filling every waking hour with work that I never considered what a traditional lifestyle might be like.
Except…would it be traditional if he’s playing a hundred sixty-two games every year? How much longer will he be playing? He just turned twenty-eight, and I don’t even know what the average age of a pro baseball player is.
These are the questions swirling aroundnow…butnowis a few moments too late.
They’re things I should have considered before I stood outside of a pool gate and went live with the hope that someone would identify the celebrities behind me so I could advance my career.
“Is it still your dream?” she asks carefully.
I press my lips together.
Now that I’ve taken that offer off the table, it turns out that I don’t think it’sreallywhat I want out of this life. Especially not the way I went about getting it. It’s not me.It’s not in my nature to be underhanded or not to stop at any cost to get what I want.
I’m just not sure what Idowant now. It was my dream for so long that I don’t even know who I am without it.
A part of me wants to go back to blogging, back to where it all started, back when it wasfunand it didn’t feel like a job. I want it to be my hobby again—a fun thing to do in my spare time after work. But work? What would I even do? Bartend?
That’s not the forever dream. But what is?
I lift a shoulder. “I’m not sure.”
She reaches over to sling her arm around my shoulder. “I’m right here with you every step of the way.”
I nod as the tears start up again. “I know,” I say, my voice small. “I should get back out there.”
She gives me a quick hug. Both Chip and Jackie really are good friends. My only friends. And I’m grateful to have them.
I pop into the bathroom and splash a little water on my face to try to get rid of some of the puffiness, but it doesn’t do much good.
I head back out to the bar.
“If you need more time, I’ve got this,” Chip says. It’s a Tuesday evening, typically our slowest night. Mondays usually get the Monday Night Football crew in season, and on Wednesdays, kids eat free. But Tuesday is that weird night that few people head to a local bar to drink it up.
“I could use the distraction,” I admit.
He presses his lips together and nods. “You doing okay?”
I press my lips together and nod. Even the nod is a lie.
But eventually, I’ll be okay. Eventually, the guilt will subside, and I’ll move on, and life will be normal again.
Right?
CHAPTER 42: Archer Bradley
The Invitation
