“Maybe your place isn’t in a conventional job.”
“Meaning?”
“You could make things with your hands and sell them online. Like soaps or cutting boards or learning to pour resin. Or you could work somewhere like Kala and run a glass-bottom boat, giving tours, or learn to fly a helicopter and give tours. You could be an influencer. You’re not forced to pick from something inside the box.”
“Not gonna lie, I appreciate that because I haven’t thought of any of that. Those kinds of possibilities take the pressure off a little.”
Alka smiles. “Good.”
“What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a college coach.”
“Really? What sport?”
“Soccer.”
I grin. “No kidding. I used to play soccer in school. I quit junior year of high school.”
“Why?”
“I know the odds of me going pro are like 2%. I was always middle of the pack as far as skill went. No matter how hard I tried, it just never felt like I was getting better. Since I wasn’t going to make it to college level, I thought I’d devote my energy to other things.”
“It’s a hard sport to make it in,” Alka agrees. “Actually, I’m not sure there’s an easy sport to make it in, but I get it. You know what they say—what you can’t do, teach. And here I am as a coach.”
I nod. “I get that. Hell, I wish I had even enough passion for soccer to coach.” Laughter bubbles out of me, but it’s the kindthat comes from frustration. “I played for Longwood last year, but I spent most of the season on the bench, which is fine. I don’t begrudge them that. We’re in the business of winning to proceed to the playoffs. I get it.”
“Huh,” Alka says as he studies me. “We played Longwood last year. I don’t remember you.”
“To be fair, I don’t think I pay much attention to checking out the other team or their coaches,” I point out.
He smiles. “Very true.”
“So yeah. Wait. How did we get back on me?”
Alka laughs. “Sorry. Okay, how about… Do you want to get married someday?”
I raise a brow and teasingly ask, “Are you proposing, Alka?” to try to hide the way my breath catches.
He laughs again and shakes his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
I close my eyes as I think about it. “Honestly? I think I’m kind of indifferent to marriage. I want a partner. I want a love story. But marriage isn’t necessary.”
“That’s fair.”
“I’m not opposed to it,” I say, opening my eyes to meet his. “I just don’t think it’s necessary. I read an article once that talked about how marriage is supposed to be the epitome of love and purpose. Then there were those from the LGBTQIA+ community saying that they’re outdated expectations. Happiness and love aren’t defined by reaching the highest level of marriage. We don’t need to fit ourselves into hetero lifestyles to prove that our relationships are just as meaningful. I guess that’s kind of stuck with me since I’ve always been indifferent to marriage. It doesn’t define love. I know a higher number of happier couples whoaren’tmarried than I do those who are. It’s almost as if marriage just innately changes things and what had once been really good and perfect as is starts breaking down after marriage. I don’t want that.”
“Huh,” Alka says. “I’m going to look up that article when I’m allowed to use the internet at my leisure again.”
I laugh.
“I guess I can see the point. All the ‘normal’ life achievements are kind of pressed upon you throughout your life, right? The expectations are the same for everyone, and you’re supposed to work up to those as your greatest achievements. No one is supposed to break the status quo and make their own path.”
“Exactly. Why did you get married?” I ask.
Alka tilts his head. His eyes leave mine as he sees something I can’t, and a smile slowly forms on his lips. “Because I love Oscar. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I can’t say we did it because we wanted to instead of because we thought that’s what we were supposed to do to prove our love or whatever, but I don’t regret it. I also think that people take the idea of marriage for granted. Like it’s some final answer and life will be perfect beyond that point so they don’t have to try. They’ve already reached the happy ever after, and now they’re supposed to be living that dream without effort.”
“Hm,” I say. “That might be the key.”
