Page 2 of Cupid's Last Arrow

Art keeps me alive and sane. Without it, I would probably be a heartbroken mess.

He’s a numbers guy and doesn’t really understand how the craft and muse carries me away. He’s found me like this severaltimes—contemplating camera angles, lighting, and cropping for the best images.

I appreciate that Carl isn’t the type to stay irritated with me long, especially when it comes to my new career choice.

“Yeah.” I pick at my pizza toppings, thinking over my newest ideas. “I was brainstorming new themes and locations to offer clients, then I went down the rabbit hole of online inspiration.”

“At least you’ve been getting some paying jobs lately,” Carl says.

He worries I won’t be able to make ends meet with my small nest egg, not unless I have a thriving business with several employees. His critical concern is what I get for attaching myself to a financial manager.

“I’m making it work. Sure, I had to undercut myself a bit so I could pad my portfolio some more.” I frown at the fancy gourmet pizza Carl ordered, thinking of what my blunder cost me. I should have made spaghetti, as I planned, which is within my budget. “I have had some more inquiries through the jobs I’ve done, and my website is getting some traffic. The promo ads I put out are working.”

“Good.” Carl’s dark eyes are distant, so I know he is only half listening.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, sounding as casual as possible. I don’t like that look in his eyes. I’m pretty sure I know what it means since I’ve seen it a few times before.

“Huh?” He snaps out of his reverie and smiles. “Nothing. Just work.”

“It must be busy at the office if you were a couple hours late getting home,” I prompt.

“Uh, yeah. I had to train some new hires, and it put me behind in my own work.”

New hires? Maybe he finds himself attracted to one of them. I doubt it’s just training that has him home so late.

“Do they seem like they will work out?” I ask innocently. His love life is none of my business, since he made it clear he isn’t interested in a serious relationship with anyone.

I guess I’m still holding out hope. We’ve never hooked up, other than one sloppy, passionate, drunken kiss years ago. He let me know the next day that he didn’t want to ruin our friendship with sex. I agree since our friendship works, even if I have secretly pined for him all this time.

However, I justify our situation because I get to hang out with my favorite person as we watch movies on the couch nearly every night. We almost have all the parts of a relationship, except for touching and sex. We confess our fears, discuss how to deal with awkward situations with friends and at work, and joke around. From what I have seen of my friends’ relationships, Carl and I talk more than most married couples who often don’t have sex either, so perhaps it’s a win after all.

Don’t get me wrong, I tried to move on, but it doesn’t ever work out for me. Maybe I never tried all that hard to find someone else. Love is stupid that way. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to choose my heart’s desire.

In the morning, I take a hike.

I drive my sensible, well-loved Subaru up to my favorite vista trail. When I get there, I grab my lightweight camera and shove some water bottles in my backpack. It doesn’t take long for me to lose myself in nature on the mountain trail.

I snap some nice up-skirt shots of the pine trees. The billowing clouds are dramatic and set a pleasing background for photos of the vista. My breath catches when the forest opens up to reveal a view for miles—one that stuns me every time.

A hummingbird zips by me. I read somewhere that they represent joy, and I make a wish that I might find my happiness someday—at least the enduring kind. Sure, I have moments of joy when I capture a moment or a beautifully composed scene, but I suppose I wantcontentment, not joy per se. By nature, joy is fleeting. Happiness, although similar to contentment, is closer to joy and ephemeral.

As I sit with that, I feel love bubbling in my heart, aching to be let out. I want someone to love. I want to shower someone with all my affection, and I want to feel it in return. I wanted that person to be Carl, but I doubt that will ever happen.

A tear hangs on my eyelash, drawn out by the longing in my soul.

The tiny, colorful bird darts right up to my face. For half a second, I worry he’s going to poke his long, sharp beak into my eye. I have a habit of talking to animals, and this moment is no different. Sometimes, it seems like they understand me more than humans. The little guy tilts his head, as if wondering what’s wrong with me.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. Just wishing for someone to share my love.”

He chirps a short, barking sound and flies straight upward so fast that it appears like the hummingbird vanished into thin air.

Did it hear my wish?

A few days go by, and I’ve barely seen Carl. He’s been working late at the office every night. Our normal dinners together have often been canceled by text. He comes home in the middle of the night and leaves early.

When Ihaveseen him, he’s distant. I assume he’s getting wrapped up in another fling at the office, but usually, he doesn’t devote that much time to his hookups.

The worry that everything is about to change tickles the back of my mind.

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