Seen. Understood. For who I really was. Reallyam.
I go back inside and step into the small but clean bathroom next to the king-sized bed. I give myself a quick glance in the mirror, in front of which I have to tip-toe to fully see myself. Horror strikes me at once. I’m an utter and complete mess—my long strawberry blonde hair is frizzy and knotted, likely from the beginning of my panic attack when I tend to pull on it. Deep bags underline my tear-swollen eyes, which reflect back a tired—rather than luminous—blue.
And this was Logan’s first impression of me? At least I didn’t wear mascara today. Otherwise, the tears would have smudged everything and made me look 150 percent more chaotic.
My first instinct is to look for a hair elastic in my bathroom bag, but it’s still in my car. Instead, I try to finger-comb the tangled waves and flatten the frizz away. A cool splash of water calms the redness in my face, but it does little to erase the damage.
Oh, well. There’s not much I can do about it except worry he’ll think I’ve completely given up on looking good.
Which, I kinda have. I’ve just been dumped. But, of course, I’m not gonna lead with that.Pathetic.
I give myself a last once-over and head for the door as my heart keeps hammering against my chest like it wants to shoot to the moon. But as I touch the door handle, I pause.
I have no idea why I bother doing this, but I still do. It’s worth a try.
I let go of the door and sit on one of the overstuffed chairs near the breakfast nook, grabbing my phone from my pocket. I open my texts and find the person I’m looking for.
Dad.
With a tiny spark of hope, I type away, sending each message without waiting for a response:
Dad, you’re not gonna believe who I just came across.
It’s Logan. You remember Logan? Of course you do. Just imagine my reaction when I saw him lol
Anyway, I’m feeling a bit nervous. I’m gonna go meet up with him now for a drink and I keep worrying about the last time I talked to him
I remember you were at home when this happened because you took me out fishing without mom to distract me after it happened
Remember how you caught that pike that was so big it wouldn’t fit in the net LOL
I look at the string of text messages and wait.
Maybe today will be the day he sees them.
Maybe today will be the day he actually texts me back.
But, of course, he doesn’t see them. For the hundredth time, I wonder if he even goes on his phone anymore or if he’s purposefully ghosting me.
Like I always do, I switch over to text Andrea instead, Dad’s Colombian girlfriend. Even though things get lost in translation, I’m still grateful to know that my dad is alive, at the very least.
But she won’t tell me much more than the fact that Dad is supposedly fine, which I hardly believe. You can’t be ‘fine’ and stop messaging your daughter out of the blue.
Hi Andrea! Let my dad know I ran into Logan today. He’ll remember who that is.
That’s all I send. But I don’t even know if she’s patching my messages through.
I wait for a moment, then feel my phone vibrate and read what she sent back. A quick Google Translate gives me this response:
Oh that’s wonderful, is that a friend? I’ll let your father know. I hope you’re okay, honey :)
No. I’m very much not okay. Just like every other time I try to contact Dad, my stomach gnaws like it’s been filled with lead.
This has been a long, long day. And it’s not even over yet.
By now, nothing else is keeping me back, so I head out of the cabin. I let the door close and auto-lock, knowing Logan will give me a key soon anyway.
Outside, the mist has crowded the air and the sea ahead, and the sun has almost set. I make my way back to the lodge, which is a short three-minute walk from my cabin. The salty scent of the ocean breeze soothes my nerves. I close my eyes and inhale it with intention. I can feel my heart slowly calming down.
