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“You must have your life together enough if you’re sitting here in Hawaii on a Saturday afternoon in February.”
“Ha. Okay, good point. Thanks. Maybe it’s just my love life that needs a tune-up.”
“Amen.” He nods. “I could use the same. Hey, I have a question.”
I risk a look into his green eyes.
Nope.
Shouldn’t have done that.
I fall into his gaze a few more of those Mississippi counts and suddenly forget all the basics of conversation-making.
Then I catch myself—staring, again—and gulp. “Hm? Er. Yeah. Okay. Shoot.”
“These photos… Okay if I use them, too? On Insta? I’ve got a girlfriend situation.”
My thrumming, happy heart cracks like shattered glass.
Suddenly, I really do need fixing.
I’m Humpty Dumpty, high on my good luck, but I’ve just plummeted off the fence onto the earth.
No one can put me back together again.
I stare into the bubbles and let my palms rest on the surface to keep busy—so he can’t suspect my disappointment.
For a minute there, I thought we were clicking.
I thought sparks were flying. Turns out, sometimes letting your leg brush with a stranger’s in a hot tub just happens because the darn tub was crowded when you both got in. Maybe he doesn’t even realize how close we’re sitting.
So, he does have a girlfriend. He’s not here ‘solo’ like he said. Figures.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him press his lips together like he’s thinking. He tilts his chin up toward the sky. “Agh. That’s wild that I just said that. Man, my brother was right. I have to stop thinking of her like that…”
He falls quiet.
It feels odd, given that he’s been ‘silver-tongued’ and chatty since his arrival.
I peek over at him. He looks thoughtful. He watches the clouds for a minute, though he’s obviously not contemplating their puffy forms. The pain in his eyes says he’s thinking about a woman.
“Do you ever feel like maybe you’re your own worst enemy?” he asks after a minute.
“Yep. I know that feeling.”
“Okay, here’s the thing. This isn’t a girlfriend situation. It’s an ex-girlfriend situation, but for some reason, I’ve got this mental block up about her. My brother says it’s because I’m willful. Like, I just see what I want, and refuse to see anything that doesn’t fit my story. He says I’ve been like this since I was a kid.”
“Willful.”
“Yeah. Stubborn, I guess. For me, it’s just how I operate. You know how sometimes; other people can notice things that are impossible to pick up on on your own?”
“That’s what friends are for. And family. My sisters call me out on my stuff sometimes.”
“Like what?”
“Like how I cater to our mom, take her problems on as my own. How I people please. How I put my needs last…”
“You got a few sisters?”
