“I’m not expecting anything.” Sebastian turns away from me and shrugs as if slightly embarrassed at the outpouring of feelings. “I just wanted to be honest with you. I’ve always wanted to be honest.” And he was. I knew when we were dating that I would always come second to his career, and for a while, it was enough. Until one day, it wasn’t. Seb clears his throat. “Also… I’ve got a new gig in Thailand. TheTimesone.”
“Seb, that’s so great!” The news pulls me out of my thoughts. “You’ve wanted that job for forever.”
“I have,” he agrees. He pauses for a moment, then seems todecide something. “You could come with me? Let me make up for Japan.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I swallow down another sip of champagne.
When he asked me to go to Tokyo with him all those years ago, I agreed instantly, like there was no other option. I can feel that same impulsive tingle in my chest now. It sounds insane and appealing all at the same time—the idea of just moving on and leaving the latest shitstorm behind. And maybe without a romantic relationship to complicate things, Seb and I could thrive as friends. Travel buddies. Fellow ex-pats. Maybe Thailand would be the escape I’d hoped Hawaii would be. A restorative reset.
And yet…
“I have a job—a legit one,” I tell Seb. “I’m actually doing some work for them while I’m here.”
“Oh.” Seb looks surprised, and I realize that in the two days he’s been here, he hasn’t once asked what’s new with me, or what I have going on in my life. “Um, what’s the gig?”
“I run the social media accounts for a women’s underwear brand called Flowies. I create marketing campaigns and do a lot of content creation.”
“Huh,” Seb says reaching for the bottle. “Sounds cool.” Though the look on his face is only mildly interested.
Could I keep working for Flowies from Thailand? I could see Meredithmaybeletting me work remotely full-time, but what’s the time difference between LA and Thailand? Would I really be up for four a.m. calls? And what about all the things I love about LA? Could I really leave them all behind? After Jamie and I broke up last year, I worried the city might never feel likehome again. But little by little, I found things that didn’t remind me of him. People who made me feel whole again. The smoothie shop where the owner knows I really want two scoops of blueberries when I say I only want one. My favorite romance bookstore, tucked between the hair salon and the Indian restaurant.
But beyond all that, there’s a deeper question holding me back from the idea of going to Thailand.
Would I really be moving on? Or running away?
“You know,” Seb says, drawing my attention back to him, “you shouldn’t feel like you have to have some big corporate job or whatever. I’ve never cared whether you have a career.” The unspoken words are obvious:unlike Jamie and his family.
And while I appreciate the sentiment, Sebastian is missing the point. This isn’t something I’m doing to prove Jamie or the Kauffmans wrong about me. It’s something I’m finally doing for myself.
“I like my job,” I tell him. “And I’m good at it.”
“Totally. I’m sure you are. I just thought…”
“Seb?”
“Yeah?” He looks at me, and I swear it’s hope I see flickering in his eyes. “You broke my heart in Tokyo. But I loved you,” I say simply.
He holds my gaze. “I know.”
“I don’t anymore though.” I choke the words out. If Sebastian is being honest with me, then I need to be honest with him.
He nods, his voice soft. “I know.” Sebastian’s face is half in shadow. He’s so beautiful. It would be so easy to lean toward him to lose myself in his touch, like I’ve done many times before. But this time, I know I won’t.
My feelings for Sebastian are still there in my memory, suspended in amber, and with enough time and heat, I might be able to chip away at them. But my feelings for Jamie are molten lava right now, roaring out of my heart, billowing steam as it pours into the ocean. And I can’t bring myself to settle when I know that kind of love is out there.
Seb pats me twice on the knee and stands. “I’m going to head out there to get some shots. You’re welcome to come with me.”
“I think I’ll enjoy being just damp instead of sopping wet for a few more minutes.”
Seb smiles and grabs his tripod, then extracts his camera from his pack, carefully wrapping it in its protective covering before stepping into the storm.
I try to get a signal on my phone, but the weather has completely knocked out any hope of reception. The strength of the storm seems to have picked up. The percussion against the roof of the tent is more insistent and the flutterings at the edges of the opening have reached a frenetic tempo. A strain of worry courses through me again. We should go back.
I peek out of the flap and see Seb in the distance. The sky is beginning to lighten ever so slightly in the distance, but the weather is holding darkness over the length of the beach. Still, I can see him, his shirt and hair going crazy in the wind as he struggles to right the tripod, which keeps collapsing. The storm is much too chaotic, surely he can see that. But I watch as he tries again and again, finally managing to wedge it around one of the shiny, slippery rocks at the end of the outcropping. And he’s right on time, because silvery-gold light starts to thread across the water from the east, lighting up the chaos of thewave, and I know this moment is one Seb couldn’t miss. Even if I wish I hadn’t gone along for the ride, I can feel how powerful these pictures will be. I know how talented he is, and how obsessive he’ll be, taking shot after shot until he feels he’s gotten the right ones. And I envy him that clarity—that passion. That ability to throw himself into something headlong, even if that thing isn’t a relationship.
Still, despite the stunning view that’s emerging, it’s freezing and wet, and the rain is still coming down. I tuck back inside the tent again. I can’t leave anyway—if I step outside of it, the wind will almost definitely pick up the whole thing and send it flying off down the beach.
So I sit there amid the beating and the roaring of the storm, stuck. For once, I can’t run from my problems.
