Her mouth curved, but she did not take the question back.
I looked out at the last strip of sunlight across the water.
“My job used to make me really happy.”
Ellie’s expression shifted.
“And now?”
I turned the paper plate between my hands.
“Now I don’t know.”
“What changed?”
The answer was too big.
Fame. Expectations. Cameras. Money. The strange way success had taken the thing I loved most and handed pieces of it to everyone around me.
So I gave her the simplest version.
“It got crowded.”
“With people?”
“With opinions. Expectations. Everyone needing something.” I smiled a little. “There are apparently many correct ways for me to exist, and none of them are especially relaxing.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It can be.”
“Do you still love the work?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
I looked at her.
“Yes. That’s the problem.”
Ellie thought about that.
“You love the thing. You just don’t love everything attached to it.”
“Exactly.”
“Like scuba.”
I frowned.
“What’s attached to scuba?”
“Paperwork. Wet socks. Todd.”
I laughed.
“Todd is attached to scuba?”
