Page 34 of Chasing Clouds

A few days have now come and gone, and with this push from him, it seems time is up.

“A couple of blocks over, there’s a park on the water, and most weekends they have some type of fair or festival. Maybe you’ll want to check it out. Next weekend is the Gasparilla Festival of the Arts, and I’ve heard it’s amazing. I think we should go.”

“We?” My eyes dart up to his.

“Yeah, why not? I think it will be fun.” He flips the magazine open to the schedule of events, and then it hits me: he wants to go out with me. With me. I don’t know why this gets me so excited, but it does.

“Okay.” I smile at him and look back at the festival list. “Wait! Tomorrow there’s one called the Vintage Flea—can we go to that?”

The corner of his lips twitch and he leans back in his chair. “Yep.”

“You knew about this.” My eyes narrow.

He shrugs his shoulders but can’t help the lopsided smile that slides onto his face.

“Why didn’t you lead with this? The arts festival sounds great, and I’d love to go to that, too, but this . . .” I flip through the magazine to find the advertisement for the flea market: A unique upscale vintage market focused on antique-inspired indoor and outdoor goods and furnishings. I’m so excited, I run my finger over the page. I even love the logo.

“I didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready, but Billy was talking about taking his wife, and it kind of reminded me of your workshop.”

Just thinking about my workshop has my hands itching to create something one of a kind and beautiful. Maybe we’ll find something tomorrow.

A grin splits my face from ear to ear. “I’m ready.”

ALL WEEK LONG I watched her. I mean, how could I not? This beautiful girl moved into my space, and surprisingly, things went smoother than I expected. I haven’t had a roommate in years and have never had a girlfriend who stayed longer than twelve hours, but Camille was quiet, kept to herself, and didn’t try to bother me at all.

During the day, I noticed she moved the furniture around a bit, and I think she was using the floor space to exercise or dance. She has to miss it, right? That’s what she did for so long. Then, every night, she cooked dinner for us. The conversations were always light and easy, and afterward we would watch a movie.

If I’m being honest with myself, however, even though she was here, it felt like she wasn’t, and that bothered me. I know she’s not really my responsibility—after all, she’s an adult—but I did disrupt her life, marry her, and bring her here. Frequently, I watched her just stare outside. The back wall of the condo has floor-to-ceiling windows that look out toward the water, and yes, the view is nice, but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t looking at anything.

She’s lost.

I can’t say I blame her—she did just flip her entire life upside down and now needs to figure out what’s happening next—but by Friday, I was starting to worry about her. At first she was a zombie, and then she transitioned to anxious, almost like a domesticated animal that’s about to be set free in the wild. She knows it’s coming but is uncertain about exactly when.

I’ve never had a serious girlfriend. I’ve never wanted one, and now that I’m here, in this situation with her, I don’t know what to do. To make things worse, she isn’t even just some girl; she’s a senator’s daughter—high society, a true Southern belle.

The complete opposite of me.

For so long, my life was worrying about my family and pushing myself to get into the NFL. I was certain if I finally made it, my mother would take a step back and enjoy her life more, but she didn’t.

Every month I deposit money into her account and Nate’s, but she rarely touches it, and he’s just as conservative, using it only for practical expenses outside of his scholarship. Part of me sometimes feels like I don’t know what I’m doing all this for, but if I wasn’t doing this, feeling the need to always take care of them, what would I be doing?

It’s this thought that makes me somewhat understand how she’s feeling. Change is hard, especially when it’s sudden, even if it was wanted.

Speaking of change . . .

On Monday, when I headed into the training facility, the dynamic with my teammates had changed, too. The guys fell into one of two camps: happy for me—this came from those currently in a relationship of some kind—and wary of me, almost like I have some kind of plague. The latter came from the uncommitted guys, who just a few days earlier I was one of, and proud of it. Technically, I still am one of them. I stand by the fact that I never want to get married. It’s not something I see for myself.

No one was curious or asked for an explanation, but then again, I’m certain they all saw the social media coverage of the wedding. Reporters went crazy over what they are calling one of the biggest Southern scandals of the century. The Whitley family, being one of the oldest and most prominent families in the region, was shocked along with the community that their precious daughter would jilt such a beloved close friend of the family and an aspiring political candidate for an NFL player from the Bronx. Yes, I’m well-known in the football industry, but outside of that, I’m a nobody. Of course they played up Patrick as the victim in these stories and knocked me down, but that’s okay. I already knew we weren’t in the same league; it just sucks to be reminded of that, and in front of all my friends, too.

Needing some advice on what to do with Camille, I sought out Billy, one of our team captains and an all-around good guy. Without giving him too much detail, I mentioned that I needed to get her out of the condo for some fresh air and to do some sightseeing, and he suggested the festivals. She’d get to see some of downtown while staying close enough to the condo that she could go home if she wanted to. So, I stopped and picked up the city magazine from the small grocer downstairs and hoped for the best. It was time to push the baby bird out of the nest.

“That’s a big hat,” I state as she wanders out from her bedroom.

Her face lights up as she pats it tighter onto her head.

“You brought me to Florida.” She laughs.

I think this is the first time I’ve heard her laugh since the wedding, and my chest tightens.