“Good. I thought I’d give you a real SoCal welcome, so I made us breakfast burritos. I hope you like Mexican food.”
He sets a mug of steaming coffee in front of me before turning back to the stove, and I chuckle at the expression on the mug:“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck?”
“Well, in truth, I can’t say as I’ve ever had a breakfast burrito before,” I say, and he gasps, his eyes going comically wide as he clutches his chest in mock horror.
“My god, you can’t be serious? You’ve never had a breakfast burrito? Well, you’d better hold on to your balls, my good man, because mine are some of the best!”
I bark out a laugh. “I appreciate your confidence.”
A few moments later, he slides a plate in front of me and watches expectantly as I pick up the burrito and take a bite. The flavors explode in my mouth: creamy eggs, crisp, salty bacon, spicy salsa, and a tortilla that practically melts in my mouth. “Holy shite, this is amazing,” I say before shoving another bite into my mouth.
His eyes crinkle with pleasure. “Glad you approve.”
“Approve? I might become addicted,” I mumble, my mouth half-full.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks, picking up his own burrito.
“Like the dead. That mattress is a dream.”
We fall into easy conversation, our laughter mingling with the sound of crashing waves filtering in through the open window.
After breakfast, we take our coffee up to the rooftop patio, where we spend a few hours discussing plans for the shelter and community/job training center. By early afternoon, we’re both ready for a break.
“I think I’m about done for today. What do you think?” Jesse asks, stretching his arms above his head. “We could walk down to Moonlight Beach.”
I nod, grateful for the chance to clear my head. “Sounds perfect.”
The sun is warm on my skin as we stroll down the hill toward the beach. I love how at ease Jesse seems here, his shoulders relaxed and a content smile playing on his lips.
“God, it’s beautiful here,” I murmur as we get to an overlook next to one of the iconic California lifeguard towers. The view nearly takes my breath away. Golden sand stretches for miles in both directions, kissed by gentle waves that shimmer in the afternoon sun. The Pacific Ocean is a mesmerizing tapestry of blues, from deep navy to vibrant turquoise. “It’s almost too perfect to be real.”
He smiles and sucks in a deep breath of the ocean air. “I agree. California’s not like anywhere else.”
He leads me down a set of wooden steps leading to the beach, and when we get to the bottom, we both kick off our shoes. The feel of the warm sand between my toes is delightful.
We amble along the beach as the setting sun paints the sky in hues of gold and pink, casting a magical glow over everything. The rhythmic crash of waves provides a soothing backdrop to our comfortable silence.
I sneak glances at Jesse. He seems lost in thought, a small smile playing on his lips. I can't help stealing glances at him as we walk, my eyes drawn to his profile like a magnet.
“I come here a lot to clear my head,” he says softly. “The past two and a half years were rough, and I’m so grateful I had this place so close by. Some days, I’d come here two or three times in one day just to get out of the house. Something about the sound of the ocean always makes me feel more at peace.”
“That makes sense,” I say. “Coming here sounds like a pretty healthy coping mechanism.”
I pause for a moment before asking one of the many questions that have been on my mind since our night together. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how are you doing now that some time has passed? You seem much better than the last time I saw you.”
He gives me a rueful smile before directing his gaze out to the ocean. “I’m a lot better, but I still have shitty days,” hesays, not looking at me. “The hardest thing is that I no longer trust my instincts, which isn’t like me. I’m an entrepreneur, for god’s sake, so being unsure about every move I make is a problem. Thankfully, my brother’s been able to pick up my slack. If we weren’t partners inGreenwood Energy, I’m not sure the company would have survived.”
He lets out a sigh, still focused on the vast expanse of ocean beside us as we walk slowly on the packed sand, letting each wave just kiss our bare toes before it retreats back. “And it goes beyond work. My self-confidence is just one of the many casualties of my marriage. I still find it frustrating that I can’t have a simple conversation the way I used to.”
I cock my head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”
He stops, digging his toes into the cool, wet sand.
“I second-guess everything now. I don’t take anything anyone says at face value anymore, and I question everything, evaluating whether I think people are telling the truth or whether I’m being fed a pack of lies.” He shakes his head in frustration. “Making decisions on anything, from what I want to have for dinner all the way up to major issues at the company, takes forever because I spend so much time turning over every possible outcome in my head before I can commit. Classic decision paralysis. It’s exhausting.”
His voice is raw with pain, and I instinctively lean in, pressing my shoulder against his as we stand side by side, staring out at the ocean.
“I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you,” I say softly. “Hopefully, your confidence will recover with time.”
