Page 94 of Sunshine with You
You deserve someone who wants your happiness as much as their own. The rapid beating in my chest is nothing compared to the whirlpool in my head as Hunter’s words echo. After everything, in spite of everyone else—including himself—he still just wants me to be happy? Tears well in my eyes as I gape at Willa. If it wasn’t clear before,thissolidifies it.I really don’t deserve him.
“He’s figuring it out as he goes, just like you. Take the time you need to decide what you want to do, but he’s good for you, Ash. He’s only giving you space for your sake. He doesn’t want it.”
Chewing on my thumbnail, I nod at the sobering reality that I don’t just need time to do this on my own. I need some help.
As Willa and I leave,a bright pink flyer catches my eye: Youth Swimming Director Needed. The details are vague, but seeing the job listing sparks another moment of clarity in my head, and I rip it from the bulletin board. Something about holding this flyer in my hand makes my dream job more of a tangible possibility than the unopened reminder emails sitting in my inbox. Words on a computer screen are easy to ignore, but a neon piece of paper is a beacon. I could really do something I love for a living, and for the first time in a long time, my mind is clear enough to seriously consider it. Hunter, without even trying, has been helping me find my way to this exact moment. Everything points back to him. It has for a while.
As soon as I get home, I fire up my laptop and sit on the edge of the couch cushion, poised to get this shit done. I don’t even bother showering first, worried that doing anything but filling out this application will make me lose my nerve. When I get to the section asking for swimming experience, I take a deep breath and pause, waiting. For fear. Panic. Anxiety. But there’s nothing except a rush of excitement for finally getting this far. I bite my lip, and my fingers fly across the keys. My determination to follow through with this takes me right to the submit button, and I click without any hesitation.
“I did it…” I whisper, staring at the wordsApplication Submittedfor longer than is necessary, soaking in this unfamiliar feeling.Pride?That’s a new one, but I let it fill me up until I’m smiling from ear to ear and ready to burst. An excited squeal echoes off the walls as I jump up on my couch, bouncing around like a five-year-old. “I fucking did it!” Bouncing turns into a victory dance across the cushions. Idofeel proud of myself. This is the most empowered I’ve been in years, and I wish I could capture it in a bottle to carry around with me.I need to document this!
Excitement bobs in my knees as I slip my phone from my pocket. Six blurry selfies result from my inability to keep my feet still on the cushion, but the smile in that seventh one is crystal clear. Containing the victory dance to my hips, I tap out a message to send with my picture, still giggling with excitement. Then my face drops. The squeeze in my chest stops me mid-shimmy. Hunter’s name glows in the contact field, but I don’t remember selecting his name.Another clear beacon I can’t ignore. He’s such an instinct, even my subconscious craves his praise.And you pushed him away.He deserves better.
I cringe, awaiting that black hole to suck me in. Waiting for the panicked tears, the berating doubt. But the fear that comes is marred by a tiny glimmer, a remnant left behind by what I overcame today. And the longer I focus on the gleam, the more capable I feel. I scroll through my contacts and hit the number I’ve admittedly been avoiding for far too long. The anxiety that was nowhere to be found several minutes ago now rolls around in my stomach as ringing shrills in my ear.This is the next step.
“Aisha Thompson’s office.”
I bite my lip and close my eyes at the receptionist’s greeting. This jump into the deep end feels harder than my last, but it’s the one that matters the most. “Hi… I need to make an appointment.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
HUNTER
Fuck.It’s Wednesday again. I’ve been struggling to push the thought from my head since I woke up. I’d hoped it would be fine once I got into work, but the closer it gets to lunchtime, the louder I crank the music in my earbuds to drown it out. It’s been a couple of weeks since everything happened in San Francisco, and I still find myself reaching for my phone to text Ashlie. I miss…everything. That’s the thing about giving someone space. They get a break, and you get a mandatory, miserable, lonely break yourself.
I glance at the clock above Aiden’s empty workstation, which doesn’t help me forget where I’d usually be at this time. Where Iwantto be right now. A tap on the shoulder snaps me out of my head, and I pull the music from my ear, swinging my chair around to face Aiden.
“You’re in the zone today.” His smile falters when I don’t respond. “No lunch break?”
“Naw.” I push my glasses up to the bridge of my nose. “I’m tryna reach a deadline.”
“…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work through lunch before… Is everything okay?”
I nod, shifting my eyes to my screen. “Just have work to do…”
“Alright, alright. I’ll take the hint and leave you alone.” He chuckles at my brevity, but he doesn’t walk away. “You, uh, sure you’re good?”
“How about you just ask what you want to ask me?”
“How’s Ashlie?”
“I wouldn’t know. Anything else?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Naw. I’m good.”
Aiden sucks air in through his teeth, shaking his head. “You’re a steel trap, man.”
“What can I say? It’s a gift.” I shrug, dropping my eyes to my keyboard. His words are like a punch to the gut.Ashlie said the same thing.
“I didn’t say it was good. It’ll eat you up inside if you keep holding it all in. Shit’s not healthy, man.” He raps his knuckles on my desk and heads for the door. “Don’t forget to eat lunch, boss!”
I got word about my promotion to remote supervisor when I got back from San Francisco. But after everything that happened, it’s hard to feel excited about the new position. There’s a lot more paper pushing, which is what I’m working on now, but nothing too difficult. Apart from extra meetings and phone calls during the week, it doesn’t feel much different from what I was doing before. I worked hard to get here and do my job well; I just don’t care about anything right now.
Out of habit, I grab my phone from my desk drawer, thumbs freezing over the screen as soon as I realize what I’m doing. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, where muscle memory takes over and I’m staring at a conversation full of comfortable affection. If I could go back to that night and redo everything, I would.
Me
