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“My life has been a big pile of nothing. And I told myself it was better that way, you know? Boring meant stable. I’d never had stable before. But I’m not sure I’m cut out for stable. Can you have an exciting life without being a complete nomad?”
“Your life can look however you want it to look. You just gotta make the choice that it’s important to you. What is it you really want out of life?”
“Do I have to decide now?” I asked. “Right here, at two in the morning?”
“Why not? Deciding to live with purpose stops you from just floating through life, hoping shit just works out.”
“What’s your purpose?”
“Brotherhood, protect the innocent, live free.”
“But you weren’t free.”
“For a while I wasn’t. But I knew I’d get out. Get back to where I needed to be. There was a reason I was in prison, you know. It wasn’t an accident.”
“Yeah, but that’s a shit outcome for protecting a young woman,” I said bitterly.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But it’s no use being pissed about it. I’ve had five years to think about it and I can promise you it won’t change anything.” His thumb grazed my chin. “You have the tiniest cleft. You were born a fighter, Sutton. I like that about you. A lot.”
His words caused shivers to erupt all along my skin. “Look at you, complimenting me.” I leaned over and traced his prison tattoo with my fingers. “I wish I knew my purpose.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“What if I don’t?” I rolled back and propped my elbow underneath my head and peered at him. “What if I don’t ever figure it out? Am I just supposed to be a bartender for the rest of my life? I look at the Old Ladies, and they all have this…drive. I’m not sure I have that.”
“Career and purpose aren’t the same.”
“I don’t think I want a career. Does that make me horrible?” I asked. “I didn’t go to college. Never even wanted to go to college. I don’t like being stuck inside learning. I like being in the real world, talking to people. I like getting to know them and hearing their stories. I like listening to them talk about their problems—not because they have problems, but sometimes, being an objective listener is all someone needs, you know?”
He smiled slightly.
“What?” I demanded.
“What do you think a bartender does?”
“They serve drinks and they…holy shit. No way.” I let out a laugh.
“You don’t have to take life seriously just because the world tells you to.”
“But is what I doenough?” I asked.
“What’s enough? What does that even mean?”
“So, you’d be okay if I just wanted to be a bartender for the rest of my life?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Sutton. It’s not about me. It’s about you and whatyouwant. If you wake up every day and you get to do the thing that you love to do, that fills you with purpose, fuck what anybody else has to say about it. If that’s bartending, fine. If it’s something else, that’s fine too. And I don’t mean to keep bringing this up, but you’re twenty-two. You have time. You can change your entire life at any moment.”
“I don’t want to work my life away,” I said slowly. “I want to travel and explore. I want to adventure.”
“Sounds like you’ve got more of life figured out than you think you do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I frowned. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you—I mean—that night when I thought the condom broke but it didn’t…”
“Hmm? What about it?”
