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I look back towards him and see the question on his face and wait for him to ask or say whatever is on his mind.
“Nothing. Have a great day.”
I make sure not to brush past him as I walk around him and leave without saying anything else.
There’s little room to misinterpret my action, and that’s what I need. Men do it to women time and time again, with no explanation required, and I need Jayce to realise it cuts both ways, and there’s no romantic ending here for us.
We went on a date. We screwed. Nothing more.
I take my coffee back home and make myself a quick breakfast and start the kettle for Mum. There are some figures I need from the bank to pull into the spreadsheet I’ve been basing the business plan projections on. The raw data shows the business could turn a solid profit after the first year and then allow me to take the seed and investment money and turn it into something bigger, expand, or change directions again—away from here.
More importantly, it will give me the time to work out what I really want to do next in my life. I’ve been running my own company for so long, and before that, working towards it. I can’t remember anything else, and without that drive, I’m feeling lost, with no rudder to guide me.
So far, returning home hasn’t been the settling experience I needed, and I feel more unsure about my future than ever.
Venturing out onto the beach is a risk with Jayce in town, but I can’t hide from him. The surf’s not great today, so I’m hopeful the big-shot surfer won’t bother. On the way, I pass the old surf shop and see the closed sign. God, sixteen-year-old me would have thought this would be amazing, having the gorgeous boy from the best summer ever back in town. I might have played down everything when we were together and worked at keeping my feet on the ground and planted in reality, but that didn’t mean I didn’t dream and imagine a world in which we were together and happy.
But that version of Zennor grew up.
She didn’t want to feel weak for wishing the dreams would become a reality.
And she’s much harder to impress now.
As I traipse through the sand, I see a man further along the beach with what looks like a stick in one hand and a black bag in the other. He’s combing through the sand and picking rubbish from the beach. With the benefit of distance, I watch for a moment, but I know who it is. Jayce Roberts. Of course, he’d be out doing his bit for the environment.
For a moment, the animosity I’ve carried for so long simmers down in my gut as if the cool spring air has quenched the fire.
A simple action of his speaks to his character and the type of person he’s grown into, rather than the version of him that I’ve painted because of the hatred and anger I’ve carried with me. I’ve allowed it to taint everything I’ve touched, including how I’m treating him now and plan to continue doing so.
I storm off in the opposite direction, annoyed that I will have to contend with Jayce around every corner of this tiny town.
Over the next few days, it becomes clear that Jayce and I have the same caffeine addiction. Or at least Jayce seems to appear at Molly’s at the same regular time as I do. It’s grating on my nerves and beginning to piss me off. This place isn’t big enough for us not to run into one another, but it’s painful. Every time I see him, it throws me back to the past, and I’m done with it. I don’t care if it’s childish. I all but ignore him, get my coffee, and leave.
“Zee, wait?”
I hear him call after me as I walk up and back towards home, seemingly not content with the brush off.
“Wait up.”
But I keep moving.
“Hey.”
“Sorry. I’ve got to get back.”
“So, you decide to be rude?”
I pause and take a deep breath. “What can I do for you, Jayce?” My smile is fake and frail.
“I wanted to see if you fancied going to dinner one night. Maybe out of town this time?” He reaches for my hand, but I pull it back.
“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea. If you’ll excuse me.” I turn away and head off home, rattled and fighting with myself to stay strong and stick to the plan.
Over the next few days, I make sure I do nothing further to encourage Jayce’s interest or attention; in fact, you can barely describe our interaction as even civil. But running into Jayce at Molly’s seems to be a habit, and I’m at the end of my patience.
This morning he stops me after I leave as if he’s waiting to ask me something or even challenge me after I shot his date proposal down in flames.
“Zee?” he starts.
