Page 92 of On The Beach

I groaned. "I'm not obsessed. I just… care. And I like working. What does balance even mean? It sounds like one of those terms people throw around when they're too lazy to have a real passion."

"Uh-huh," Anna said dryly. "You're right; balance is totally a scam. That's why people invented it. To trick productive people like you into wasting time doing silly things, like, I don't know, being happy."

I flopped back down again, pressing my hand to my forehead. "You're not helping, Anna."

"Look, I know you're capable of amazing things. You've got a drive that would intimidate most people. But you also have this guy who loves you and wants to be with you—and you're about to throw that away because…you don't know how to take a nap?"

I let out a huff. "I know how to take a nap."

"Really?" she said, her voice skeptical. "When's the last time you took one?"

There was a silence. "That's not the point."

"You're on a beach with a hammock, and you haven't taken a nap. Belle, you're the only person I know who has to schedule relaxation into her calendar. And then, if something else comes up, you cancel it." She paused, then asked in a suspiciously innocent tone, "Do you remember that one time you tried to do self-care Sunday, and it lasted about ten minutes before you ended up reorganizing your files?"

Igroaned, burying my face in a pillow. "That was one time."

Anna laughed. "Right. But you've done it in different forms about fifty times. Mick's not an idiot, Belle. He's just observant. And maybe he has a point."

I lifted my head, glaring at the wall. "So you're saying I should just give up on my dreams and…what? Sit around with him all day, sipping piña coladas and chasing lizards off the porch?"

Anna giggled. "I'm not saying give up your dreams. But maybe let's not go full lizard-chaser, either. There's a middle ground here. Balance isn't about abandoning what you love; it's about making room for a life. And you're terrible at that."

"Wow. Thanks, Anna. Just what I needed to hear."

"Belle, I'm your sister, not your fucking cheerleader. Let me tell you this: I know you'll regret it if you let Mick slip through your fingers if you don't wake the hell up, and as a bonus, you'll get an ulcer and high blood pressure. You have a guy who actually wants to be in your life and who thinks you're amazing. How many of those do you think you're going to find?"

"Probably just the one," I muttered, kicking at the bedspread. "But he's so… infuriating sometimes. He doesn't get it. He thinks working hard is the enemy, and I just…I don't think I can do what he wants. I don't know how to be that kind of person."

"That's because you've never tried, Belle," she said, with an edge of patience that only an older sister could pull off. "Look, maybe he doesn't get it, and maybe you don't get him. But that doesn't mean you can't find a way to meet in the middle. He doesn't want you to give up your work. He just wants to know your life with him is more important to you than your job."

"It is," I whispered, a little surprised by how much I meant it. "But he doesn't believe that, he never will."

"Then prove it to him," Anna suggested like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "For once in your life, put down the laptop and show him he's worth it. Take a damn afternoon off without having a meltdown. Or better yet, take a weekend off. Go fishing. Or whatever it is that people do in that tropical paradise of his."

I laughed. "I caught a yellowtail last time."

"Sounds fabulous," she said triumphantly. "Go do something completely pointless and unproductive and…I don't know…relaxing. Show him you can."

I sat up, chewing my lip. "So what, you think I should just…wander around in the sand all day, waiting for my inner Zen to appear?"

"If that's what it takes, yes! Or maybe…don't take life so seriously all the time. Give him something. Show him you're willing to learn a little balance, even if you have to grit your teeth through it." She laughed. "It might be good for you. You're not going to die of underachievement if you spend a day or two without a deadline."

"Underachievement," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Is that even a word?"

"It is now. Look, Belle, you've spent your whole life impressing everyone. You've got more awards than I can count. But that's not what Mick cares about. He cares about you. So maybe, instead of trying to impress him with how hard you work, try impressing him with how much you're willing to not work. See what happens."

I was silent for a moment, turning it over. The idea sounded ridiculous and impractical. And yet…she had a point. I couldn't continue like this. It wasn't sustainable.

"You really think he'd stick around if I…tried the balance thing?"

"I think he'd stick around if you asked him to wear a tutu," Anna said. "Look, you've done the workaholic thing. You know what that looks like. Why not try the other side? You might actually like it."

I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Fine.Whatever."

"That's the spirit!" she cheered sarcastically. "And hey, worst-case scenario, you get a tan and some fun memories. Best case, you don't lose the guy who might actually be perfect for you."

After ending my conversation with my sister, I went looking for Mick. I found him on the beach by the Coral Cove, skipping stones with Franco, while Cato watched with an amused smirk, lounging on a big piece of driftwood with a coconut drink in hand. Toothless Nick, half-asleep in his usual spot at the outdoor bar, perked up as I walked over.

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