“You can see past lives?” His voice is even as his eyes search mine for more information.
I love his eyes—the hint of amber when the light hits them. The long lashes and the wide way they hungrily take in the world. I nod. “Yes. And in mine, my grandmother found Daniel. He’s my fated. I’d been searching for him for ten years that morning I dropped you off at work.”
He’s looking past me now, a million emotions playing across his face. I give him time to sit with this. Letting it all sink in. Then he finally looks at me and asks, “What happened, then? Why did you guys break up?”
“My whole life I believed the reason my dad left, that my parents broke up, was because my mom chose not to be with her fated. Since I can remember, I was warned of what happens when you don’t choose your fated,” I say, my voice getting stronger as the emotions stirred by all these revelations surge through me. “My mom was thatwarning. My family told me she rebelled and didn’t choose her fated, and that’s why my dad left her. Us. But then…a few days ago, later on the night of the park opening, in fact, I found out that wasn’t true. Hewasher fated. And despite that, it didn’t work out.”
Ellis looks completely overwhelmed. “Cass…”
“So that’s why I’m here. Like this.” I wave to myself. “I found out about my parents. Then I flew to Michigan to meet my dad.” His eyes widen. “I know, long story. But I met him. Then I broke up with Daniel. And then the fire.”
I step in close to him and reach for his hand. He looks down but doesn’t pull it away.
“What came out of all that is—is thisabsoluteclarification: that I want to be withyou. That even when I met Daniel, it was always you.”
My voice cracks. I can feel my heart reaching out between us, begging his to open. But Ellis is still looking down, face hidden from me.
“I believe in fated love,” I say, still trying to make him understand. “But I also believe in making your own fate. It used to scare me, the idea of veering off course. But I’ve been off course since the day we met.”
He finally looks up. His expression is guarded. “But you and Danieldidhave a connection. Everyone could see it.”
“Yeah, we did. He’s a wonderful guy, as you know. I connected with both of you.” I take a breath, my heart fast but steady. “But there’s only one of you that I fell in love with.”
His head shoots up. “What?”
It’s hard to talk around the lump in my throat, the beating of my heart. “I love you, Ellis. I’m in love with you.” I get lightheaded with the release of it. “I used the age thing as a reason to ignore all the glaring reasons why it’s so easy to love you. The way you neverhesitate to help. The bigness of your heart. How you make me want to soften the hard edges of myself and all my routines. The spontaneity of your joy and how you spread it to everyone around you. How, in moments, the magic and wonder I feel with you reminds me of my happiest moments with my mother.”
He looks up at that, his eyes filled with an emotion I can’t place. Time stills as I wait for his response to my declaration. In the summer heat of L.A., with the breeze wafting over us—this love feels inevitable.
But.
He backs up. Takes his hand from mine. He won’t look at me, keeping his eyes lowered. “Cassia. I just…this is a lot. I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay!” I say instinctively, devastated. If I just keep talking, he can’t say it’s over, even as it feels like walls are shutting down inside of me, one by one. I feel like I’m dying. “This was too much. I get it. Um, let’s just start from the beginning…”
But he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t had enough time to think about all this.”
Each word is a tiny tragedy, but I smile. I owe him a buffer from my heartbreak. “I understand.” Suddenly I am aware of what I look like—a forty-year-old woman in her pajamas, no makeup, in glasses. Confessing her love to a twenty-eight-year-old who has the entire world at his feet. “Just forget this happened,” I say, as my heart cracks in half.
Ellis looks at me with concern. “No, I don’t want to forget. I just…need time. Is that okay?”
“Of course!” My voice feels a million miles away. “I’ll just…you should get back to work.” And I spin around and walk briskly away, not wanting him to see the tears I frantically wipe away, feeling as foolish as a deluded lovestruck teenager.
50
The fallout from the fire keeps me blessedly preoccupied for the next couple weeks. Calls with our insurance company. Rescheduling everything from the days we closed. Researching contractors with Marcella’s help—she does not recommend her own—and stress breathing into a paper bag when the first estimates come in. We set up a remote-working situation for everyone and fumble through our first few Zoom meetings. We hold readings in Halmoni’s home office, and we slowly get back on our feet as we wait for the insurance company to approve our rebuilding costs.
It takes all I have to keep it together during the day. The nights, however, are given over to despair. Lots of Elliott Smith on my record player while drinking wine and scrolling through Ellis’s Instagram. Betty even feels bad for me—she stops biting me when I feed her and has gotten into the habit of perching on the back of the sofa while I camp out there evenings and weekends, the Park women under strict instructions to give me space.
After about a month of nonstop work and evenings ruminating on my mistakes, Mar convinces me to go on her family summer trip to Catalina Island in late August.
“Being forced to hang out with kids on a vacation is the best distraction,” Mar says on the beach as she slathers Mica with sunblock as thick as frosting. “There is no relaxing, no time for your brain to obsess. You are, instead, in a tornado of chaos.”
Mica kicks sand into my face as he runs off down to the water. I spit it out and can’t help laughing. “I hate you.”
“I love you,” Mar says matter-of-factly.
We spend the next few days getting sunburned, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and spending evenings playing Go Fish by the bonfire. All of it reminds me of Ellis for no reason.
