Page 90 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

It has to happen before the wedding. I was serious when I told her I can’t be around her and the love on display and pretend I’m not sleeping with her.

I can barely pretend to her face that I’m not in love with her.

She sighs, which I think is a sign she wants to let something off her chest. “I drafted a statement. We didn’t know. We trusted our supplier. We apologize our quality control didn’t catch this. People will get full refunds. They don’t even have to send the clothing back because that would be a waste of resources.”

“How long before you can resupply?”

“I can’t. Not in time to be meaningful.” She shakes her head. “We slashed the prices on the website to liquidate it. It’s not the whole line, regardless of what people say. Some people will buybecause they are still good clothes. That, you know, polluted a river to get made.”

I care about the river, I really do. But I care about Carina more. “Okay, it’s not everything. What about future seasons?”

“It’s isolated. Plenty of items weren’t affected. But of course no one will believe us.”

I won’t manage her feelings. I know better. But I want to soothe her ache any way I can. She needs to talk this out. I can give her the space to do so.

“I lost the trust of my entire customer base.” Carina looks like she’s holding up now. Like she’s accepted what has happened. But it’s a lie.

It’s not the money, although I’m sure she’s concerned about her employees. It’s the trust in the community she built. The community that shares the values they believe have been betrayed.

This could break her. I can’t let that happen.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you,” I say. It’s shallow and an echo of what I really want to say.

I love you. I’m not your partner in business, but I am your partner in life. I can take some of the burden for you.

But I don’t think now is the time.

“I know, and I appreciate it,” she replies, but it sounds hollow. Like she’s responding to someone who means nothing to her.

She finishes her meal. I take my cue to leave. “Do you want to come over tonight?” We spend most nights together. It would be weird at this point for us to be separate.

It’s getting habitual. It’s getting comfortable.

My past relationships have been nonstop heat and adrenaline. Sure, some were longer lasting. But I’ve never felt the comfortable quiet I feel with her. The heat is better than I’ve ever had, but the space between is as important.

I need her to breathe. I need her around me. There is no getting out of this for me. This won’t burn out. This won’t ebb. This will never dissipate.

She squints her eyes. “Can we do my place? I’ll probably log back in.”

“Text me when you leave,” I answer. It’s not quite enough for me. I want a key to her place. I want to live in the same place as her.

I want her home to be my home.

But she’ll never accept that. Not when she’s convinced it could fail. She won’t take another risk when she’s had one fall apart.

I pause in the doorway, looking back at her as she turns her focus to her computer. “We could leave now. Head south on theRigging.”

She just shakes her head.

I smile at her, but I no longer have her attention so she doesn’t notice.

thirty-five

CARINA

This day would have beenmiserable without my father’s commentary. But that made me the most angry—that I couldn’t even blame him. To him, my successes may not be my own, but my failures surely are.

For months he begged me to give up on the sustainability messaging and to pivot toward affordability. But that wasn’t where my values lie. Sure, I want to be affordable. I participate in programs to keep girls in sports in low-income schools and do everything I can to help. I’ve done everything right and still got screwed over.

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