“Yes,” I say.
“Well. I am in love with Ryan. Have been for three years, andI’ve never told him,” she says. “I have no savings, no career ambition, my screen time is around six hours a day, and I am scared of heights, spiders, oranges, and older white ladies. I’m a mess. And Ash? He’s completely broke, he’s come out of a shit engagement three years ago, and the only woman he’s seen since then is the same woman who broke his heart, and now you. Ash might seem solid and in control, but he’s a mess too. He’s insecure, self-conscious, and lonely.”
“No, he’s not,” I protest.
“We all are. Everyone is. Everyone’s struggling. Everyone’s trying to find happy and grabbing the bits that they can when they can. Everyone’s scared. Unsure. Confused. Especially the ones who look like they’re not, like Lynn.”
“Lynn does seem like she has her shit together.”
“Lynn is a machine.”
We fall silent for a moment before I feel determined. I cannot not go.
“I just have to see if he’s there. I have to know for sure. If he’s not there, then I know it’s Ash,” I say, looking down at my fingers again and spotting a chip in my otherwise perfect red polish.
“If you go, you’re choosing Joe,” she says, a stiff warning tone in her voice now.
“I just don’t know for sure,” I reply, sniffing.
“You already know for sure,” she says. “I know you do. Stop looking everywhere else for the answers. Trust yourself, Mara.”
41
Trust yourself.Icurse those words as I hightail it up the street, stopping briefly to look in the inordinately shining chemist window to check my appearance. I look good. I definitely look my best.
Trust myself.When you’ve been told all your life that your own instincts are wrong, it’s impossible to believe you can make a good decision. As I walk to the Star and Anchor, I ruminate over years of insecurity and second-guessing myself.
Should I date this guy?I better check in with Charlie. Charlie not available? Astronomy.com might help. But the one voice whose advice I have never trusted is my own. Isn’t this me doing what I think I should do? Isn’t this my intuition? I feel a tug on my heart back to Ash again. Or is it that? Is that tug my intuition? And how do I know my intuition is right? Isn’t it just another bunch of feelings that are supposed to guide me?
Why is this so hard?
By the time I’m standing outside the Star and Anchor, I stop for a moment and look upward. The sky is completely clear, and I can see the Milky Way fanning above me in all its gloriousness. I briefly consider checking in on my horoscope again. Something, anything, that will tell me the right thing to do. Samira said I shouldn’t go, but she’s invested in me being here, isn’t she? She knows and adores Ash.
I look away from the night sky, my heart aching suddenly.
I donotwant to go in here.
I want Ash.
The heart will tell you what it wants.
And yet, I put my hand on the cold metal of the door and I close my eyes.
This is it. This is the moment I’ve been building toward for the last three months. I take a big, deep breath in and contemplate everything that has happened to bring me here to right now. To this decision.
Can I go in? Am I going to see if he’s here?
I glance back down the street and I feel a strong pull along the waterfront in the other direction. Or—am I heading to home to him?
Trust your heart. Trust your gut. Trust your intuition.
I shake my head. Which one of these invisible threads in my internal tug-of-war is my heart? Is it the soft and gentle pull home? A strong thread, I note. Strong and solid. Or is it the wild and hopeful yank toward what may or may not be behind this door?
My heart pounds in my chest.
Is he in there?
Did he come?
