I turned to go and then remembered I was supposed to be here to fix something. "Wait, did Phyllis actually need me?"
Blaire laughed. "Nope."
"You know you can just call or text me if you need anything, right?" Blaire was Saylor's grandmother, so that made her my family too. Or at least it did if Saylor felt the same way about me than I felt about her.
"That's what I'm counting on," Blaire said as she headed into the main room where there were several groups playing games at the tables.
I'd made things harder for myself by not telling Saylor how I felt when she was here. I was letting her acclimate to her life in Jacksonville, hoping she'd decide that it wasn't for her. It was a risk, but I'd already set things into motion, and there wasn't another option.
I had to give her a few days and then I'd show up and tell her how I felt. I just hoped that she felt the same. Otherwise, I wasn't sure what I would do. I would only have the memories of our summer romance, knowing I could never be her forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Saylor
I was living out of a hotel, but I didn't spend much time there. As soon as I returned to work, I remembered why I needed the summer break. The atmosphere of our office was chaotic. There were numerous assignments that were being thrown at us at any given time, and we were working in several groups, competing for the winning graphic design or marketing campaign.
There was infighting and backstabbing and competition. I felt stressed all the time and wondered how I ever thought this was fun and exciting. Now I longed for the lazy mornings, huge breakfasts that Marshall cooked, and the evenings talking by the pool or on the beach.
I spent my time in an office with the air-conditioning running around the clock. I didn't spend any time outside and barely had time to eat a meal, much less watch TV or relax in my room. I certainly didn't have time to hunt for an apartment.
But I had to do something, I couldn't live in a hotel indefinitely. Any time I thought about searching online for available apartments, my chest tightened, and I couldn't bring myself to type the words.
Marshall had sent several texts asking how I was doing or if I was enjoying being back at my job, and I felt like I had to put on a facade. This was what I wanted, so I shouldn't complain about it, right?
Marshall wanted assurances that I was happy so he could move on. He didn't think he made a mistake in letting me go. If so, he would have followed me here after dropping off Hayden with her mother.
I'd even gotten a few texts from Hayden with images of her deciding between two outfits at a store. I was happy to interact with her but wondered if she was settling into life with her mother. I wanted to ask Marshall, but it wasn't my place.
We weren't together. Hayden wasn't my responsibility, but I was concerned about her. It felt like Marshall and Hayden were mine to worry about. I couldn't just shut off the feelings. I wanted to know how Hayden was faring, whether Marshall was lonely in the beach cottage all by himself.
How did he feel after he returned from his morning runs? Did he still cook large breakfasts, remembering what it was like when me and Hayden were there to talk to? Did he enjoy spending time with us at the senior center?
For the millionth time, I tried to focus on my computer screen. I'd been working on several projects at once. All of them had deadlines that were approaching. I used to thrive on this kind of pressure. Now it felt like my creativity had been sucked out of me.
I couldn't come up with an idea. Everything seemed like it had been done before or wasn't unique enough.
I'd forgotten how awful my coworkers were, everyone out for themselves, wanting to win the project and get the bonus.
I just wanted to create something amazing that the client would love. I didn't want to compete with other designers or work all hours of the night because it was due at some arbitrary time.
I wanted freedom. I wanted to walk the beach in the morning to hunt for seashells, letting ideas percolate in my head until I had the right one.
I wanted to wake up in Marshall's arms and go to sleep on his chest. I wanted to know if she was enjoying her life in Naples again.
I wanted so many things I didn't have the right to anymore. I'd let it all go when I left Sanibel. I hadn't told Marshall how I felt. Hayden had urged me to be upfront with him about my feelings, but I hadn't listened to her.
I was too scared to take a risk. Flynn had done a number on me, and trusting a man again was harder than I thought it would be. How could I trust that my feelings for him would be enough? Then he'd reciprocate them?
That he'd want me in his life forever? It sounded so scary, impossible even. How could we know that we were the ones for each other after two summers together? We'd been together before. Maybe that counted for something.
We had a history together. Maybe when you found the person you were supposed to be with, you didn't need years to know that he was the one.
Maybe it was something that you knew deep inside. It was a knowing, an intuition.
On Friday, one of my old friends Eliza invited me to coffee. I usually ate lunch at my desk, but there was time for me to run to the coffee shop. I was excited about the meeting, hoping this meant that I hadn't lost all my friends here.
I rushed to the coffee shop down the street, worried I was late. Inside, Eliza was waiting for me.
