“I like him, Mom. I think he’s amazing…” I struggle to put the feeling into words. “I think he’s got most things on my list. Which feels crazy to even say, because I spent one date with him.Onedate. It’s hard to make a decision so quickly about whether I want to explore something or not, but I feel like time isn’t on our side. I don’t know if it’s worth pursuing… worth opening something that I might have to walk away from so soon.” I sigh, feeling the weight of that reality settle over me again.
“But you think he could be the guy that ticks every item off your list?” She reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind my ear, her touch gentle.
I hesitate. Saying it out loud feels bigger than just thinking it.
I sink further into my hands on the sink, staring down for a moment before finally answering.
“I think he has the potential to be.”
That’s all I can manage. There’s so many variables to this—too many unknowns, too much time standing in the way. One night isn’t enough to truly know someone… and yet, it somehow feels like more than just one night.
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” she sings, a wide smile spreading across her face. “I knew you’d like him. Goodniiiiiiiight!” She wiggles her fingers playfully and slips out of the bathroom, her smile lingering even as she disappears down the hall.
The room grows quiet again.
And as I stare at my reflection, one thought rises above all the others—steady, insistent, impossible to ignore.
My mind just can’t let go of Nate.
10
Nate
I wake up at sunrise, the sun breaking in through the curtains. I throw off my sheets, leaving them crumpled in a heaped pile on the bed—a mirror of my tangled thoughts. My feet hit the floor, and I make my way to the living room and the balcony door.
The sounds of Recife wrap around me—distant waves lapping, gulls squawking overhead, the faint hum of a city just stirring awake. The morning breeze is cool, holding onto the night’s shadows, waiting for the sun to infuse it with warmth. The sky is shifting from deep, bold tones into something lighter, like it’s holding onto the promise of brightness for the day ahead. Salt hangs in the air, sharp and alive, and I take a long, deliberate breath, letting it settle into my chest.
I told them all last night I didn’t get up regularly to watch the sunrise. But today feels different. Today, the sun climbs out from the recesses of darkness carrying a sense of hope—and something else, too. Uncertainty is still at war within me.
I barely slept. Tossing and turning, my mind couldn’t stop circling her. Lizzie. Thoughts of her were relentless, teasing and pulling at me all at once. I was restless. Istillfeel restless. I feel powerless, and yet… the thought of doing nothing feels unbearable.
I left her with my card. The ball is in her court. There’s not much else I can do. Leaving my card with her was the dating version of an olive branch. I’m interested… but I’m not the one leaving. She is. She has to choose whether to explore what we could be.
And that makes all the difference.
But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like I want to trysomething.Anything. I don’t like seeing a spark and watching it fade out. I want to see if this could be something real—if she could be the woman I could spend the rest of my life with. That’s my mindset now. No dancing around the edges. I want the whole thing. I want marriage. Ahome.
I step back inside, moving toward the kitchen. The door shuts quietly behind me, and I hear movement.
“Boss!” Camila exclaims, palm to her chest.
I smile at her.
“I didn’t expect you to be up so early!”
“Neither did I, Camila.”
“Let me get your coffee ready,” she says, brisk but warm.
“Thank you, I’d really appreciate that, actually. I’m sure I could work the coffee maker but no one makes it as good as you,” I reply, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah, go on and sit your butt down in your living room,” she teases, grinning at me and dismissing me with a wave.
As I sit and sink in the chair, I look over at my Bible on the coffee table and pick it up. I want to get some clarity for the thoughts that feel like they’re ping-ponging in my mind.
Before I can settle into reading, Camila brings the coffee over. The smell reaches my nose and feels like a jolt of lightning straight into my blood stream before I’ve even taken a drink.
“I think we’re going to need a little more than coffee to fix those purple eye bags under your eyes.” She leans over and squints while examining my face.
