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“What the hell are you talking about?”
He didn’t respond as he opened the door and stepped inside. I followed him in and took immediate notice of the way the bottom floor was one huge room. How there were panels of wall constructed throughout the large space strategically. I took note of the two smaller rooms on either side of the studio space. They had no doors, they weren’t meant to be cut off, just separate. Ahead of me there was a long wall of paneled windows that stared straight out at the ocean across the street. A front door that matched the shade of the shutters outside stood next to the panel windows. I knew exactly what this was supposed to be. “It’s a gallery,” I said.
I noticed that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. He was nervous, gauging my reaction. “That’s what the owner wanted. Until she went bankrupt. She’s selling now. Before she owned it, this was a clothing store.” I shot a look that told him to continue. “My point being that it could be whatever you want.”
“I’m not following,” I said.
“I’ve been talking to your dad for a while. He’s interested in buying some investment property, and I convinced him that this is a good area for it.”
“How come neither of you told me?” I asked.
“At first, he was just asking some general questions about real estate. I didn’t think it was anything worth mentioning to you. I just…You mentioned moving here after your contract with the school is up. The seller contacted my office a couple of weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to get this property out of my head since. Then, you told me you’d be coming down herewithPenelope. I couldn’tnotshow it to you.”
My laugh echoed through the empty room as I ran a hand through my hair. “I was so drunk that night, Dom. You know that was just some… some drunken thought I decided to share out loud.”
“You meant it,” he said quietly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I rubbed the tension out of my jaw.
“I saw you guys’ last night.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. We didn’t– nothing happened.”
“It’salwaysbeen like that, Carter.” He sighed. “How long did it take you?” I looked at him, eyes narrowed in confusion. “To fall back in love with her.”
I cupped my neck and paced the floor in front of me. I thought back to what I’d told him after my first photos were published inThis Week Hawaii. The issue happened to get published while I was visiting my parents for Thanksgiving, only about a month after my twenty-first birthday. Dom took me out to celebrate, and several shots later we found ourselves huddled around my parent’s firepit in their backyard. I was crying, admitting that I still thought about Penelope all the time. Wishing I could share the news with her about my publication. Wondering out loud whether she still drew, or if she ever got into painting. I told Dom about the dream I had of opening an art gallery, filled partly with my photos and partly with her paintings. In a different lifetime, perhaps.
“You really think it’s a coincidence?” he asked. My head snapped up in question. “That you guys just so happened to work at the same school? That you both moved back in with your parents at the same time?”
“Yes. My dad set up the job for both of us. He’s on the school board. It’s not that spectacular of a circumstance,” I argued.
He shook his head in defeat. “There are eight two-bedroom apartments above the studio. Four on the second floor and four more on the third. I showed it to your dad last week. He likes it. You could live in one of the units, manage the other seven to offset the cost of your rent. You could still travel, build your portfolio, sell your work. Do whatever you want with the bottom floor, or nothing at all. If you filled all seven units, your dad would make a profit.” He walked to the back door and held it open for me. As I passed him, he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I never stopped,” I murmured, exiting the building and climbing into the car.
Chapter Seventeen
Penelope
IBEGANTHEDESCENTdown the steep steps behind the villa that led to the beach. I tried not to think too much about having to climb back up them later. The villa was empty when I got back from the conference. Carter mentioned something about going surfing after seeing Dom, and I knew Macie and Jeremy were going to get dinner. It was after seven, so I wasn’t surprised they were gone already.
I told myself that I wasn’t going down there to look for Carter, specifically. I wanted to watch the sunset, even if I was doing it alone. I was still reeling from waking up next to him this morning. Waking up next to him and missing my alarm.
I wasn’t the kind of person who missed alarms. Who was late to things. I normally wasn’t the type of person who went out the night before an academic conference. Or, better yet, I normally wasn’t the type of person who got drunk and begged people to kiss me. Take me to bed. Except, maybe I was. Maybe I am, now. I couldn’t decide if it was Carter’s influence on me or Macie’s that had me behaving this way. I couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad.
I always struggled with that– balance. I had very specific goals in life, and it had been my experience thus far that those goals didn’t go hand in hand with a fun, carefree nature. When I got to Oxford, I met James and he rationalized every belief I’d ever had that balance wouldn’t exist for the exceptionally ambitious. He’d reinforced all the ideas I had that if I wanted to excel in my industry; get my PhD, travel the world, discover lost cities– I’d have to give up everything else. There’d be no family, no children, few friends. For a long, long, time I believed him. I accepted it.
Sometimes I’m not even entirely sure why I want to be an archaeologist. All I know is that it's the only thing about myself that I feel isn’t in constant limbo, ever changing and impossible for me to grasp onto. When I was about five, I fell in love with that Disney movie,Atlantis. I became obsessed with the legends of Atlantis. I wanted to find it. I was convinced it was real. My mom told me I should become an archaeologist, and I’ve never wanted to be anything else since.
I’d always struggled with finding balance, but never ambition. James used that to his advantage. He found me alone, on the opposite end of the world from everything I’d ever known. Lost and forgetting who I was. Forgetting who I wanted to become. He fed on those weaknesses like a vulture, until only scraps of me were left. When things went sideways, he left me for dead.
Sometimes I still feel like I’m just in scraps. I don’t know which scraps are really me and which scraps are the me that he created. Carter makes me feel like I can still feel myself, somewhere deep inside. I want so badly to pull her out. But sometimes, I don’t know if Carter’s making me see the real me, or if he too is creating a version of me for himself. Not intentionally, not on purpose. But maybe I’m such a broken shell that I can’t help but mold into what others want.
Because, somehow, I don’t think I’m the type of person who forgets to set my alarm.
I want to be fun. I want to be carefree. I want love, and life, and friends. But I also want success. I want to travel the world. Discover lost cities. Find Atlantis. That part is the only part I know is me. Before James, before Carter, before I was adopted, before my mom died.
I wanted to find Atlantis.
