Page 183 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Been there, done that, and I won’t do it again.
After leaving Riles on the dock, I jump in an Uber and visit the National Motor Museum, where I bump into Manny and Hugo, a decent consolation for Riles’s absence. Manny shares his automotive knowledge, and Hugo eagerly chaperones me through a thirteenth-century Gothic manor, which forms part of the grounds. We admire the furnishings and décor, and I appreciate his expertise and ideas, some of them inspiring ideas of my own for when I return to my workshop. I’ve missed the smell of wood, varnish, and even the sawdust, but I’ve also appreciated the change of scenery. The escape. The adventure. It was exactly what I needed, and I have Roni—and Riles—to thank for that.
Sliding my sailing card into the door of our cabin, I push it open and enter the room. Riles looks up, rubs her eyes, and immediately shuts her laptop, pushing it aside before standing.
“Hey,” she says, voice timid. “Was theTitanicexhibit good?”
I take a seat on the edge of my bed and rest my elbows on my knees. “I didn’t go there.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “Why not?”
“I chose not to.”
Taking a seat beside me, she fiddles with the bracelet I gave her in Qaqortok and then places her hands in her lap. “You’re mad.”
“I’m not.”
“Lies.”
“I’m not mad, Riles,” I say, voice calm. “I’m worried.”
“Worried?” She gently squeezes my thigh. “Why are you worried?”
“Because you’re already in a relationship, and I fear there’s no room for me… or us.”
“What are you talking about?” She leans back, angling herself away from me. “I’m not in a relationship with anybody.”
“You are. With Georgia.”
“That’s—” She stands up and walks to the desk, tidying the stack of daily newsletters before facing me again. “That’s just stupid. She’s my boss; I’m her assistant. That’s all. We’re not together. How could you think that?”
“I don’t mean you’re seeing each other, Riles.” I chuckle, unable to help it. “What I mean is you’re obsessed with pleasing her. If she demands, you comply, even when it means sacrificing your own happiness. You said so yourself that she’s stolen too much of your time, time you can’t get back, and yet you’re still willingly giving it to her.”
Her mouth opens, then closes, her eyes bouncing about their sockets like pinballs.
“So yeah.” I sigh. “I’m worried you’ll let her stealourtime, which she did today.”
Chewing the inside of her cheek, she dips her head and stares at the ground.
I stand and tilt her chin up with the tip of my finger. “I’ve just ended a relationship that was one-sided, and it almost destroyed me. I don’t want that again.”
“I’m not your ex-wife, Riley.” She swipes my hand away. “And I never will be.”
I tilt her face back to mine. “I know that. You’re nothing like Krystal.”
“Then stop comparing us.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I cup her cheeks. “I’m comparing the situations.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
