Page 47 of The Waiter at Table 6

Last week, after a particularly empowering class—and an even better night with Ryder—I found myself typing up an email to the condo owner. I wasn’t planning on sending it, not yet at least.

But now that I’m staring at that email again, a thought hits me:

Sunbathing topless and picking up new hobbies is all well and good, but they don’t mean much if I’m not going after the things that really make me who I am.

Before I can second-guess myself, I pull up my email. And I only stare at the draft I wrote up for a moment before I hit Send.

My heart starts pounding so hard, I can no longer hear the waves crashing in the distance. I can’t believe I just did that.

I don’t know how long I stare at my computer screen, spinning the cheap bracelet around my wrist, but it’s long enough that it gives the recipient a chance to respond back.

Hi Vanessa,

I’m so glad you reached out. I’ve been hoping you would. Are you available to chat this week sometime? I’d like to discuss my ideas for the building and what a contract with us would look like.

Please let me know at your earliest convenience. Thank you!

Olivia

Owner of Beachfront Condos

It takes a minute for the email to register—actually, it takes several. But when it does…

I let out a shriek.

The sound echoes off my high ceiling, filling the space with my excitement and pure joy. With pride.

Holy shit. I did it. I actually did it.

It’s only the first step, but it’s such a big step that I can barely contain my emotions. Hugging my iPad to my chest, I kick my feet in the air with a squeal.

I can’t wait to tell Ryder.

The thought is so sudden, such a gut reaction, that it freezes me in place.

I know exactly how he’d react, too. He’d probably yell louder than I did and hug me hard enough to bruise. He’d tell me how proud he is of me, and then he’d insist we celebrate.

So…why did I think that would be so terrifying?

Did I really think he’d do the opposite? That he’d tell me I didn’t need to work, that I shouldn’t work, and that I should just go and get a martini with the other wives? Did I really think he’d be anything less than supportive and inspiring?

And I realize…I was so wrong.

I haven’t gotten lost in Ryder. I’ve found myself with him.

I’ve been so scared of falling into old patterns, of getting wrapped up in someone and losing the little identity I’ve scraped together since the divorce, that I’ve been looking at this the wrong way.

Everything we’ve done together, all the things we’ve tried, they’ve all been my choice. They’ve all been things on my list, that I wanted to discover. He’s never once pushed anything on me. Every line I’ve drawn, he’s honored. And I’ve never had so much fun, been so myself around anyone.

I’ve been so scared of letting someone back in for fear of what they’ll take from me, and all this time, Ryder’s simply been giving. His support, his optimism, his praise.

He’s not holding me back; he’s lifting me up. He’s helping me spread my wings so I can find out exactly what it feels like to fly.

Tears fill my eyes as I suck in a big breath, my heart racing. I need to see him.

It’s only been two days, and I miss him. I don’t want to push him away anymore.

I glance at the clock and realize he’s currently at the restaurant, setting it up for tonight’s dinner crowd. I don’t even stop to text him, I just grab my purse and rush out the door.

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