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“You mentioned before that you moved here for a fresh start. I admire that. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to move to a place where I didn’t know anyone.”
He shrugs as if it’s nothing when the thought of moving to a strange place and not knowing anyone has me wanting to break out in hives. I’m not sure I could do it. Not even for a fresh start.
“It’s not really that hard. Sometimes, we just have to let go and let life take us where it wants to.”
“That easy, huh?”
“If you don’t fight it, yes.”
He turns to me, and the look in his eyes is intense, tingling my skin.
“It’s like when I start a new project. I already know what I want to make. I choose a piece of wood and mold it into my vision. Usually, that works, but sometimes the wood has other ideas, and my original vision morphs into something completely different. I have two choices when that happens. Either I carry down the path of my original vision and fight the wood all the way, hoping that by the time I’m done, I haven’t destroyed it, or I can change course and trust that it knows better than I do.
Life is a lot like that. We start out with an idea in our head on how it’s supposed to go, but sometimes life has a different idea. It’s up to us to decide if we’re going to fight, cling to the history that shaped us, and struggle to try and subdue it into what we want. Or we can just let go, be flexible, and see where it takes us.”
He sighs. “Either way, we only get this one life. What we do with it is up to us. Somebody might swoop in and take responsibility for it, and it might work for a while, but it’s not sustainable in the long term.”
*****
I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHTour apartment was the perfect size for a couple starting out in life. It’s not big, but it’s big enough for the two of us. Today, though, it feels as if the walls are closing in. Quinn’s at our little dining table, the one we picked up at Ikea, and which took a lot of swearing and throwing around of tools to assemble. He’s tapping away at his laptop, and whatever it is he’s doing must be very entertaining, judging by his smiles and occasional chuckle.
I feel like I’m invisible because he’s hardly said two words to me all morning. I’ve tried talking to him, but I might as well have saved my breath. All I got for my efforts were mumbles and grunts. Not even eye contact.
Eventually, I can’t stand it anymore. The atmosphere is heavy and stifling, to the point that I feel I want to scream. Maybe getting out for a bit will help.
“It’s a nice day. Winter will be here before we know it. Maybe we should get out while we can.”
I wait for him to respond, but a minute ticks by without a flicker of attention.
“Quinn,” I say a bit more forcefully.
“What?”
It’s because I’m watching him that I see the flash of irritation in his eyes when he looks at me.
“I said, it’s a nice day, and we’re wasting it inside. Why don’t we go out for a bit?”
“I can’t. I need to have this proposal done by Monday.”
“Can’t you finish it when we get back?”
“No, Bailey,” he sighs. “I really can’t. This is important.”
There’s a challenge in his eyes as if he’s waiting for me to argue with him, but I don’t have the energy for that.
“Fine. I’ll go then. I don’t feel like staring at you working all day,” I sigh, shooting off a quick text to Hannah.
“Well, if you’re going out, I think I’ll head to the office for a bit. All the files I need are there, so it’s easier,” he says, sitting back and stretching. I know Quinn, and I know most of his expressions. The one he’s wearing now at the prospect of having to go in to work on a Sunday, is not one of someone having to go to jail. It’s one of someone who’s just got a get-out-of-jail-free card. “These chairs suck, anyway,” he mumbles, shutting his laptop.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to at least try to hide his excitement at the prospect of spending another day away from me, but I grab my keys and phone instead, leaving without bothering to say goodbye.
*****
“Where’s Quinn today?” Hannah asks around a mouthful of ice cream.
“At work.”
“On a Sunday?”
