Page 73 of The Last Sunrise

Julián’s mouth falls open and I wish I could shove the words back into my big, stupid mouth.

“Wow. You’re just like her. And the saying is, it’s easy to say money doesn’t matter when you have too much of it, which you obviously fucking do. I was wrong about you. So fucking wrong,” he says, stalking off, leaving me standing in the sand.

“Fuck you!” I scream after him, knowing damn well I took it too far, but there’s nothing to say right now to make it better and I need to think, to breathe, to calm down and not hurt him more than I already have.

Nearly every word that came out of my mouth was from a place of anger. I let my fear of being ripped away from him push me to say things to him that I didn’t mean and regret to my bones. I can’t make excuses for being such a bitch to him, and I don’t want to. He deserves more than my childish, emotional ranting and half-ass apologies. I wander around for a while, not knowing where to go, or what the hell to do. Another reminder of a dynamic with my mother I desperately wish I had. One where I could rush to her and get advice. Since that’s not possible, I make my way back to the hotel and hope Amara is working.

As I approach the entrance, I find her walking under the arched door, her bag and phone in hand.

“Ry!” She lights up when she sees me. Relief, guilt, anxiety fill me and I bite down on my lip, trying not to cry.

Her expression changes as she looks at me. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She pulls me into hug her before I can answer. She squeezes me, gently petting my hair.

“I was a raging bitch to Julián and said so many awful things and need to apologize but want to give him space… at least for a little bit. I don’t know what the hell to do or who to go to, so I came here hoping to find you, hoping you’d be here,” I tell her, letting myself melt in her arms.

“Well, you came to the right place.” She unwraps herself from me and takes my hand, leading me to sit on a set of stones near the circular driveway of the hotel. Out of sight from guests, with a beautiful view of the coast painted in the early morning light.

“How are you and Prisha?” I ask, and she smiles.

She’s wearing her work uniform with dirty, well-lived and -loved sneakers with little charms hanging from the laces. There’s a purple heart, and one of those little characters from her bookbag, from the band she loves so much.

“Good, really good. Too good, I think. She’s going to have to go back to Sweden soon when her summer break ends, and I didn’t think too much of it in the beginning, but it’s killing me now that we’re getting closer to that day.”

I reach for her hand. Why do things always have to end? Why is everything always so damn complicated and time-stamped and full of endless roadblocks?

“You guys could always have a long-distance relationship? Instead of just ending it?”

Amara shakes her head, a sour look on her face. “I’m not a long-distance kind of girl. I know myself well enough to know that won’t work. I’m too jealous, too impulsive. If it were a shorter period maybe, but she’s in medical school, which takes years and years. Ugh, why does she have to be so great? She was supposed to be a hookup for a few weeks, but now I… I think I love her, and I don’t know what to do about that.”

I can’t help but laugh, not because it’s funny but because I know how she feels and have absolutely zero credentials to give her advice when my own love life is a complete shit show.

“Ironically, we’re in the same situation. Different circumstances, but the whole summer fling, now in love, and have an impending expiration date thing is the same.”

“We should have just hung out together and partied all summer instead of going and falling in love with people we can’t have a future with,” she says, and I nod in agreement. “And no offense to either of us, but I don’t think we’re going to have any good advice for each other. We don’t know what we’re doing, clearly.”

“Clearly.”

“Enough about me, I don’t even want to think about it, so tell me about the mess with Julián.”

I give her the fast-ish version, and she grimaces a few times, both at my awful behavior toward him and his refusal to consider coming to the States with me. I feel bad not telling her about the whole medical situation, but everything is already complicated enough, and I don’t want to become my condition, not with her.

“I think you’re both brats, honestly. He’s stubborn and you have a wildfire temper.” Amara reaches up to touch myshoulder as a flashy black sports car without a top pulls into the circular drive in front of the hotel.

“Julián has always had a major issue with classism, so I can imagine this is hard for him, but at the same time, it’s not your fault your mom’s wealthy. It seems like the problems are outside both of your controls, you just have to decide whether the small chance of this working out or not is worth the battle.”

We both stare at the couple climbing out of the car. The man waltzes over and takes the woman’s hand, helping her out of the passenger side. She’s either his daughter, or…

“See, people who have more than others are everywhere. If you can’t beat them, I say do like that girl and join them.”

The woman smiles brightly at her walking ATM, and I fight my judgmental thoughts. Good for her, honestly, and at least he seems like a gentleman, helping her, tipping the valet, carrying her bag.

“What if I can’t beat them and have involuntarily been on the wrong side the whole time?” I wonder.

“Then you just make sure you know you’re doing the right thing for you, and Ry, you’re a good person with a good heart. You’re too hard on yourself. You aren’t the villain here.”

“Then who is?” I expect her to say my mother.

“No one. Just life being complicated. There’s not always a villain to fight.”

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