Page 89 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“Well, screw your mom and dad too! Brit, you’re a gorgeous, vibrant soul who brightens every room she walks into, but you’ve been kept in a jar your whole life. There’s a whole big world out there that your parents and Sean don’t dictate. And look what happened, the minute you stepped out into it, someone fell head over heels for you.”

I sighed. Was that what she got from this story? Because it sure didn’t feel like the ending I remembered. “More like I fell head over heels for him and he weighed the options. I came out at the bottom.”

“I don’t buy it. What man personally chauffeurs a woman from Costa Rica to New York unless he cares an awful lot about her? And youdodo this, Brit. You fall in love easily, but that’s one of the best things about you. You’re kind and happy even when the world isn’t. You treat everyone as if they’re going to be your next best friend. A lot of times they don’t deserve it, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to be right one day. Broken clocks, and all.”

I sniffle-laughed. I felt like a broken clock, no sense of place or time. I used to think my life would be forever divided into acts—Before Sean and After Sean. But this devastating phase I was in right now felt like it should be labeled “After Nick.”

God, I missed him. I missed the person I was when I was with him, me but . . . stronger. I felt like I was tugging against the stars by not being near Nick, not sharing his space. The universe had thrown us together in a series of ridiculous circumstances, and the intimacy between us hadn’t grown at a natural rate. It had exploded in fits. One minute, we were splitting supplies at Target, the next we were sharing everything from our deepest fears to our bodies.

But at least I was prone to epicness in my own fantasies. Nick may or may not have even had a fully functioning pulse when his brother sent him on that trip. What did I really expect of him?

“He’s lost something big,” I said. “The whole reason he was on the trip, everything between us—it was rooted in grief.”

I hadn’t told Meri Nick’s secret. His letter, his brother, the pain that had been part of his aura since we met. She considered this new information, then she covered my hand with hers. “Don’t forget where you were when you two met, Brit. Your world was in pieces too. How can you say you were clear-headed about it, but he was blinded by circumstance?”

I sniffled, remembering how I’d lied to him about the auction even as I dragged uncomfortable truth after painful confession from his broken heart. “I guess I’m afraid neither of us was clear-headed.”

“You should at least answer him. How do you know he’s not curled up on his best friend’s couch thinking the very same thing?”

I knew he wasn’t. Even hundreds of miles away, I knew Nick. He was back to buttoning himself up. Nose to the grindstone to keep himself from feeling things he didn’t want to. I couldn’t handle imagining he was curled up anywhere thinking about me, and I knew he wasn’t on his best friend’s couch because his best friend was dead.

I left Meri’s around eight, managing to avoid my mother while sneaking back into the house. I hadn’t spoken to her since my meeting with my father and I still wasn’t sure what her absence meant. She’d been behind the French doors of her study, phone to her pearl-decorated ear, and I’d slipped by to hide out in my room.

I brushed my teeth in my en suite and put on the penguin shorts that Nick had picked out for me at Target. I settled into the eyelet comforter on my childhood bed and booted up my laptop. My browser was still open to the listing for my house, frozen in time before I’d set out on my honeymoon alone. I took a deep breath and hit refresh, watching the “for sale” status turn to “pending.” I imagined the same red letters appearing over my head as I fell backward into the pillows. Brit’s Life: status—pending.

After I’d managed to calm my Nick Tears enough to have a solid conversation, Meri and I had gotten to work on plan C. Or was it D at this point? I couldn’t remember.

I needed to regroup. Losing the house was a huge setback, but I still had my business. Summer was coming and I could book more weddings and events, bank more cash until I saved enough for my own down payment. If I had to cut back my hours at the mall to make time for those events, I’d save money somewhere else.

Blowing a kiss goodbye to the screen, I closed the real estate site and pulled up my website. The first picture I’d taken on the cruise ship scrolled by, flipping to a link for the manicure color poll I’d posted on Instagram. The limited content I’d uploaded while I was sailing had been super popular. People loved my video on how to pack light for a trip with five makeup basics.

I scrolled through some of the comments, the first smile I’d had in a day and a half tugging at my lips.

Love how you incorporated the sunset colors in your palette. You’re so creative!

—Meg62581

So glad I found this account. Your face always brightens my day.

—Blondeandbeachy

Going to Hawaii for my honeymoon next month. Thank you for these tips!!

—KeriK

I clicked over to the short blog post I’d managed to write, scrolling through the pictures I’d taken after Target. The step-by-step tutorial I’d done in the Rover, ending with the selfie I’d taken with Nick at the waterfall. His voice flowed through this new current picking up in my thoughts. “You just had your first crisis as a business owner, Brit, and you handled it.”

I could handle this one too. I pulled a notebook out of my bedside table drawer, popping the cap off of a pen with my teeth.I’m creative, dammit. I’m badass.

I’d get to work on increasing my follower count. Then I could charge more for paid partnerships. The three I already had had sought me out, but I could be more proactive there if I was going to stay mobile for the time being. I could shift more of my own funds into the online side of Álainn, flip my timeline.

I could still have this. It would just be different.

And it would also be alone. I could do this by myself. I could do anything by myself, but now doing it by myself felt less like an accomplishment and more like a punishment. Nick was my personal hype-man for the last few days and I missed his encouragement, his gentle steering. Especially while hiding upstairs from my parents like I was planning a bank heist instead of a business.

When I finally did save enough for a deposit on a studio, it couldn’t be here. At Meri’s, it had occurred to me that everything I’d built to this point wasn’t tied to any particular location. My career was completely mobile and if I’d learned one thing on this trip, it was that a little distance from this place was freeing in a way I didn’t know was possible.

I remembered what Annie told me. Not every detour is a disaster. A detour is meant to keep you from avoiding a hole in the road, some danger. Maybe that hole was trying to do this under my parents’ watchful eye. My dad had already proved he would ruin whatever was in his reach just to get me to comply.

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