“Of course not,” I say, swallowing down a lump in my throat. “I want that for you too.” In that moment, it’s like the clouds in my mind have parted, and I see with perfect clarity how, beyond all the troubles in my own life, Nikki has had a crazy time of her own, ever since her public breakup onLovedBy, and I’ve barely had the bandwidth to be there forher. Yet despite that, she’s gone out of her way to try and savemylove story.
Suddenly, it hits me: maybe Iamworthy of great love. Maybe I’m lucky enough to already have it. Because the bond I share with these three girls is fierce and unbreakable. And strangely, I’ve never once questioned whether I deserve it—because they’ve never made me feel less than wholly and unconditionally loved. I’m so overwhelmed by it that I want to cry all over again. But now is not the time for more tears.
“Listen, girls, I’ve gotta get ready for the eclipse event,” I tell them. “I’ll call you all when I get home.”
There’s an echo of “Love you”s from everyone as we sign off. I turn to face the ocean—those beautiful waves Seb had been so determined to photograph. It was only last night, but it feels like a lifetime ago that I was shivering alone on the beach in the darkness and the cold while Seb was out there with his camera, chasing the thing that mattered most to him—which wasn’t me, and never had been.
As the storm has left the island, the waves have gentled somewhat; the sun sparkles off the blue, and I take a deep breath, ready to let go of the fear.
Ready to believe that I can accept a great love—because, in fact, I have.
ISPEND THE NEXThour prepping some Flowies merch bags I plan to hand out at tonight’s eclipse watch party, filling the bright purple totes with rose quartz crystals, night-blooming jasminebath salts, and a set of celestial-themed tarot cards along with a discount coupon for our most popular panties set.
I text back and forth with Seb, who seems to have mostly recovered from his one-sided fight with the camera tripod. He tells me he’s spending the day resting up in his room, but promises to make an appearance tonight at the viewing party.
I’m desperate to text Jamie, and almost type out some needy messages:Hey just checking real quick do you still love all of me?But there’s no point, since Jamie’s surely in the air by now anyway, with his phone dutifully set to airplane mode. Besides, if this is going to work, I have to trust him. I have to trust us.
I have a couple of hours left in the day before I need to get ready for tonight, so I leave the room determined to just hang at the hotel without the angst of worrying about who I’ll run into or what I have to hide. Another dip in the pool (and a quick horoscope exchange with Derek, my favorite poolside waiter), a wander through those sculpture gardens (finally). An iced tea at the tiki bar with Dani, whose eyes pop out of her skull when I tell her everything she’s missed out on (though Ash had obviously filled her in on the whole helicopter rescue mission).
Finally, I go back to my room and put some finishing touches on the little speech that I’m going to give during the Instagram live tonight. I don’t want it to feel too scripted, but I also don’t want to stream out to thousands of people with nothing to say. So I jot down some notes about wellness, sustainability, and empowering people with uteruses.
Around six, I shut my laptop and start to get ready for the event. I pull on a dark blue low-cut maxi dress with a slit nearly all the way up the thigh—it’s ethereal, like something Willow would wear. When I picked it out, I thought it was the perfectdress for a once-in-a-lifetime cosmic event: the same color as the night sky. But now I’m realizing how tricky this outfit is to accessorize. Any earrings I try on seem to overly dominate the ease of the dress, and the neckline doesn’t really work for a necklace. Ultimately, I decide to keep it simple, letting the dress speak for itself, and going full beach waves with my hair instead of trying to fight the humidity.
Once I’m dressed and ready, I call down to the front desk to have someone help transfer the merch bags to the event space. My mind is still reeling with everything that’s happened since last night, plus the revelation about how Nikki—and, more shockingly,Amelia—had a hand in orchestrating this whole trip. But I try to psych myself up for tonight. This was my pitch. Meredith took a chance on me, and I can’t let her down.
And through all the other things I’m feeling today, I am proud of myself for spearheading this campaign. Maybe prouder than I’ve felt since I walked across the stage at USC this May with all those twenty-two-year-olds, having finally gone back and completed the last few credits I needed to graduate.
I didn’t tell anyone I was taking online courses until a few days before the ceremony. I think a part of me was afraid to tell my friends and family what I was doing until I had actually done it. That way if I failed, I’d only be letting myself down. The person I most wanted to tell was Jamie, of course. But by then, he and I weren’t speaking. So it was the Core Four who cheered me on from the stands. Nikki holding a handmade sign with my name on it, Emma giving a two-finger whistle, Willow stamping her feet. My parents were there as well. I remember looking out to the audience and seeing my mom dabbingher eyes as I was handed my diploma. Period underwear and social media and the sheer concept of Los Angeles, they didn’t understand. But a healthier, happier version of their daughter completing her undergraduate degree? That, they got.
And while I wish Liam hadn’t come to campus my senior year and sent me into a tailspin, maybe the fact that it took me an extra seven years to officially graduate made the whole thing that much more meaningful. I wonder if I’ll feel that way if Jamie and I ever make it back to the aisle. If the joy I’ll feel looking down at that future ring on my left hand will be that much stronger because of all the rings that came before.
I pull out the little velvet sack from the bottom of my suitcase and pour the three rings into my hand.
The citrine. The seaweed. The diamond.
Liam. Sebastian. Jamie.
Part of me is tempted to pull aTitanicand hurl them off the balcony into the ocean below. To completely wipe the slate clean and release myself from the burden of this history. To really start fresh with Jamie, pretending our past never happened. But I know chucking my engagement rings into the sea wouldn’t actually free me.
And besides, I’ve decided I like having them around. They’re not talismans of failure. I can keep them safe in my heart without being weighed down by them. I can let them go, and still be grateful for what those relationships taught me about love—and about myself.
I don’t know if my relationship with Jamie will work out this time. Even now that we’ve been fully honest with each other, there are no guarantees. The only thing I know for sure is thatI’m not going to run away. Not just because Jamie deserves better. But becauseIdo.
And just as I think those last two words, I realize exactly what my outfit is missing.
IT’S A SHORT RIDEon a Halia Falls golf cart (borrowed with permission this time) back to the small market town. I find the jewelry seller’s stall, and the same woman I remember from yesterday is working again today.
“Hi,” I say. “I was here the other day. You had this ring—”
“The moonstone.” The woman nods slowly. “I knew you’d be back.” She leads me toward a shelf in the back of the booth and pulls the ring down from its velvet display. “Here. Try it on,” she encourages.
I slip on the ring and hold my right hand up to the sun. The light reveals swirls of blue and purple, green and gold. It’s unlike any ring I’ve ever owned. It’s unique. Almost otherworldly. Something about it speaks to me. It’s a ring that can symbolize this commitment I’m making to myself.
“They say moonstones are supposed to support healing,” the woman says. “I’ve always felt like they signal new beginnings.”
“I’ll take it.”
24
