Even when I’m drowning from doubt, imposter syndrome, and fear, Cole doesn’t leave me on my own. No matter what problem I’m facing, he’s always here for me to help me through it. I have him to hold me up.
THIRTY-FIVE
EVE
It’sday two of the market and set up starts in twenty minutes. We’re still not there. The hotel we ended up at in the storm isn’t far. I’m itching to get there, part of me still disappointed that I’m screwing up my first in person event.
In my head I know nature’s at fault. I can’t help feeling like it’s my own shortcomings. If I was ready to go earlier, or if we’d arrived the night before the market began this wouldn’t be a problem.
It was difficult to sleep last night. I’m sure I kept Cole awake as I tossed and turned. He didn’t complain, simply pulled me back into his arms once I changed positions and rubbed my back to help me doze off.
He startles me when he comes back from checking us out at the front desk.
“We’re all good. The roads were cleared out this morning.”
My heart leaps into my throat and I tangle my fingers in my sweater. “They are?”
He takes one look at me and crosses the room to stop me from pacing by the window. The knot in my chest loosens when he pulls me into his arms.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I know you’re nervous.”
I didn’t voice any of my swirling thoughts. Didn’t have to. He understands why I’m still worked up about this.
“Remember what I said yesterday. You’ve got me every step of the way. Once we get there, it’ll be great.”
I swallow past the lump clogging my throat, clinging to him. “Thank you. God, I would’ve spiraled without you here. You’re my rock.”
“You think I’d let you do this alone? Nah. Of course I’m here for you.”
“Let’s go.”
We leave the hotel. I only spare a moment to admire the fresh snowfall sparkling in the morning light before getting in the car.
Time passes quickly in the car with the audiobook playing in the background. I don’t take in any of the information, but I appreciate the sense of normalcy to anchor me. We’ll listen to this part again on our way home tomorrow.
A slew of texts chime with a shower of support and love from the girls. Between the inside jokes that we’ve spent years collecting and their sweet messages, they make me smile.
Cole pulls up to the curb to help me unload. “Ready?”
I shake my hands out. “Yes. No.”
He catches my wrist, bringing it to his mouth to kiss. “You’ve got this, okay?”
I nod, invigorated by his unwavering belief in me. We load the plastic bins onto a cart. After hours of YouTube research, more experienced artists agree this is the setup to go with.
I see what they mean when one of them tumbles to the snow. Cole gets it, giving me a thumbs up once he brushes it off.
“It’s all secure. Doesn’t look like anything moved.”
My shoulders relax. We head inside the brick building, following another person who I assume is a vendor from their multicolored hair.
A kind yet frazzled looking girl with a clipboard pops up at my side when we pause to get our bearings in the main room.
“Hi, are you a vendor?”
“Yes. Eve Lombard, Sweet Luxe.”
She runs a pen down the sheet and checks me off. “Great. The storm’s totally got us turned around, so we’re checking you guys off as you arrive. You’ll be at table fifty-three.”
