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“Thanks for the great work,” he said. “Interested in another assignment?”
“Yeah, of course.” My mood lifted even more. Maybe I didn’t have to figure out what was next, maybe Wheeler would just tell me. I crossed my fingers, hoping for something far away.
“I’ve got some information about a place down in Costa Rica,” he began, and I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from squealing with excitement. I was a travel writer who was finally going to travel! I listened as he explained the rest. “It’s part nature conservancy, part adventure resort. Kind of a luxury-meets-hard work situation, I think. The guy who runs it is a bit of a free spirit, I guess—aging hippie, ex-pat.”
“That sounds amazing,” I said. “Do you have an angle in mind?”
“Based on what you turned in for Kasper Ridge, I think I’d rather just send you and let you tell me.”
“Wow. Okay.”
“Any chance you could go between Thanksgiving and Christmas? I’d love to have it in hand to run sometime after the new year. February or March, probably.”
“Sure, yeah.” My mind flashed on Kasper Ridge as I spoke. I saw the resort in the snow, decorated for the holidays, and had a fleeting burst of sadness over the knowledge that I’d probably never see it again. Never see Archie again. What an amazing place it would be to spend the holidays...
“And you might look into investing in some photo gear? Nothing extravagant—the newest iPhones have really incredible quality.”
“Oh, sure, okay.” I ripped my mind back to the conversation, to the fact that this was exactly what I’d always wanted.
“Take a look at the calendar,” he said. “I’ll forward the details over email and put you in touch with Roger so you can set things up—he’s the owner.”
“Great.”
“Thanks, Emily. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”
I blinked, pulling myself firmly back to the conversation, the opportunity. “Happy Thanksgiving. Thanks, Wheeler. I’m really excited.”
We hung up and I spent a few minutes letting it all sink in. I was finally getting what I’d wanted—an opportunity to use my work to see the world, to explore and have adventures other people rarely got to have.
Traffic on the street below was busy—people making last-minute grocery runs for the holiday, I figured. Even so, San Diego felt suddenly dull and monochromatic to me. Nothing really changed here, except people pulled out different decorations at different times of year. The temperature dipped in the winter months, but that just meant sometimes I took a hoodie if I was going for a run outside. The temperate, steady nature of the city where I’d grown up suddenly felt blah and uninspired to me.
And now that the initial excitement of my new assignment had sunk in a bit, my heart had begun aching again. I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell Archie.
Instead, I called Christine.
“You’re back?” she asked, her voice breathy.
I slid open my patio door and sank into one of the chairs, kicking my feet up onto the railing overlooking the street. “I’m back. Have been for a couple days.”
“So tell me everything. Did you tell him? What happened?” I hadn’t talked to her since she left the conference.
I sighed and then let it all out. I told Christine about the hunt and the cover story (she squealed with excitement for me), and then I told her everything I hadn’t been able to tell my parents. Archie. The way he’d reacted to my identity. My misery and heartache.
“Oh honey,” she said, offering the sympathy I needed. “I’m so sorry. That’s really hard.”
“It is,” I moaned. “And I know it’s my fault, but I just keep going back through everything in my head and I think of a million ways I could have done it differently. But if I’d told him right off the bat, I would never have been able to get close enough.”
“For the story? Or to fall in love with the guy?”
“Either. Both.”
“Yeah, probably true. But Em? You did the right thing. You told him, and you said that you forgive him.”
“So stupid, right? I think he’s the one who needs to forgive me.” I dropped my head back onto the chair, cringing at the things I couldn’t take back, the things I couldn’t do over the right way. I didn’t know what the right way was.
“I’m not sure about that,” she said. “You may never get to know it, but I bet hearing you forgive him meant something to him. Based on what you’ve said, he’s a guy who’s been rakinghimself over the coals daily since the accident. Part of that has to have been thoughts of you—of Jake’s family—and of what you went through as a result of the accident.”
“I’d never really thought about that.”
