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I look up at him, my shoulders hunched forward as he hands me my glass and I silently plead for an explanation.
“What?” he questions.
“What should I expect on a second date? A trip to Italy? Perhaps on a private plane?” I smile teasingly.
“So this isa date?” he teases back.
“No, I just mean… This can’t be real. People don’t really live like this.”
“Some do. Like Jay-Z and Beyonce.” He grins at me, playfulness bouncing in his eyes.
“Are you comparing yourself to Jay-Z and Beyonce?”
“Well, no. Because I don’t own this yacht. And I don't have any Grammys.”
“Hmm,” I respond. “Technicalities.”
He finally gives. “It belongs to the agency I’m part of. I usually borrow it as a way to get away from the paps from time to time. They usually can’t get past the international waters, so it’s a good way for me to avoid them. At least for the day.”
“Rhylan,” I say softly. “This is all so beautiful. The ocean, the music, the champagne. It’s so wonderful, but you don’t have to do this with me.” I set down my glass.
None of this feels right. I want the Rhylan that I had a glimpse of last night. The Rhylan that didn’t need a hundred tricks up his sleeve to feel important, wasn’t hiding behind the wealthy exterior that I thought I had finally coaxed him out of.
“I would have been fine with takeout in your car again,” I add softly. I’m more thinking out loud rather than saying it to him, but it’s still there, lingering between us. The realization that complicated isn’t in our nature and that simplicity is what we thrive on. And I also say it because it’s true. For some reason, when we’re both situated inside our own personal bubble, all sense of formalities and hesitation disappear. I can say what I want to say without explanation or regrets. I just want us to beus.
His brows knit together. He turns to face me, his dark eyes causing my chest to tighten.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His jaw ticks as he pauses, as if he’s carefully thinking out his next words. And then they spill, all the truths pouring out of him. “This is all I know. I put on a show and expect everyone around me tooohandahh. It’s hard for me to turn all that off. Once you strip all of that away, I’m just some guy that people are looking to tear to shreds. Looking for flaws or finding ways to poke at my life.”
I reach my hand up to his cheek, the edges of his jaw meeting my fingertips. He closes his eyes and sighs, close-mouthed, letting all the tension lift away from him.
“There’s not much left of me without being Rhylan Matthews. And what if that’s not enough?” he finally says. It’s the question that we always have in the back of our minds. What if we decide to be who we want to be, all of our walls torn down and our insides exposed, and we’re rejected?What if we’re not enough?
I let the silence fill his question, my heart aching from absorbing the pain that Rhylan so willingly let spill from him. I don’t know how to let him know that we are all enough. In some way or form, we’re all perfect for the right person.
I look into the distance as the ocean seems to go on and on. The reflection of the sun flashes brightly against the blue sea. I relish in the cool breeze as the engine roars to life, announcing the start of our departure. I look back into his eyes as his face turns, and he leans into my hand.
TWENTY-ONE
RHYLAN
I’ve always wondered what contentment feels like. It feels like such a broad emotion, ranging from happiness to excitement to calm. When you feel like you’re enough, it must course alongside contentment. Because to feel content, you have to feel like everything you bring to the table is worth being there.
I do what I can to feel like I’m enough. I add my own flourish to things that are mundane. I stand behind my wealth and all of its perks. The perfect curtain to pull closed in front of me, to hide behind. No one’s ever told me all of that’s unnecessary. Until Ellie.
I pull Ellie close to me, her hair blowing in all directions as she mirrors my movements, wrapping her arms around my waist. I turn my cheek towards hers, brushing it against her skin in soft strokes.
If I can ever feel like I matter to anyone, to feel like I mean something to them and that I’m enough, I want it to be Ellie.
When I pull away from her, I see the furrow between her brows deepen as she gnaws on her lower lip and takes a shaky breath.
“I tried to kill myself when I was thirteen.” As soon as the words leave her lips, she brings her thumb between her teeth, chewing at the hardened skin lining her nail painted in lavender polish. I take her hand off her lips before pressing it against my chest, my heart thumping against our tangled hands. Her downturned eyes peer up at me through her lashes. “It was about a year after my dad died, and I felt so hopeless.” Her voice catches as she turns her hand in mine, weaving our fingers together while they remain over my heart. “I told you that I would shut my eyes to shut out the world, to pretend like I didn’t exist in it. But that wasn’t enough. So I thought that if…”
I nod, letting her know she doesn’t need to finish. I already know. Shutting out the world wasn’t enough. She thought ending her life would finally end the pain.
“But I regretted it. I realized that I couldn’t do that to my mom… So I’ve been doing what I can to let her know that everything in my life is worth living for.”
Her grip on me tightens.
