Page 73 of Fragile Hearts

Our day has been just crazy. Never really slowing down at all, and handling all the excitement over Lux has been fun. Guests are asking for booking information and pictures, and we’ve even had the media here today snapping pictures.

It’s all great publicity for Sally, Rick and Cara, and I’m so glad I’ve gotten to be a part of it.

As my shift begins to wind down, the crowds slowing as people head out for dinner, I grab my phone and check my messages. There’s a group one that Alana sent, letting all of us know that we’ve all gotten our boxes and can chat and do try-ons together, and I giggle at the idea.

How the fuck did my life end up here?

It’s been so damn hard to stay positive throughout all the bullshit in my life, so many tears and broken hearts, but I’ve come out on the other side. Things are only going to continue to go up from here. With school and graduation in the next couple of years, I’ll have officially done it. Gotten out of the toxic cycle of the foster care system and shitty parents.

There’s another text, this one from Sally with the picture of Owen and me attached, along with multiple heart-eye emojis. All it does is make my smile widen. She couldn’t be nicer to me despite it all. Never holding it against me that I don’t have money or the family that the Sinclairs have. I’m so lucky to have them, all of them.

I then open Instagram, and the number of tags I have is insane. It’s in the hundreds, and now I also have tons of requests to follow me. It’s hilarious because my page is basically just a bunch of pictures of the ocean and surfing and Mochi. Not much to get excited about.

Scrolling through all the tagged posts, the captions basically all say the same thing: listing me as Owen Sinclair’s girlfriend, along with my name, Maui local, Orchid Bay employee and amateur surfer. Honestly, that last part makes me laugh. I’m not even sure “amateur” is the right word. More like “hobby surfer”, but I’ll let it slide.

As I continue to scroll, I can feel the presence of someone at the desk, and I look up, coming face to face with the last person I thought I’d see in my life again.

My mother.

“Hey, Sloanie,” she croaks out, her voice hoarse from all those years of smoking. Her face is weathered and wrinkled, but underneath it all, she’s still the woman who left me all those years ago.

I cringe at her use of the nickname she gave me as a kid. Only saying it when she was about to leave, or ask me to move for the millionth time, or when she was bringing some random guy home. It always came with this mock, sugary-sweet tone that made my stomach churn.

Rage burns hot through my veins, my blood feeling like it could boil at any second, and as much as I want to scream in her face and tell her to leave me the fuck alone, I can’t. I’m at work, and that’s why she showed up here.

Public.

Safe.

And what I thought was the best weekend of my life has now been tarnished. Because that’s how my mother found me.

The weekend at Orchid Bay Lux with all the media.

She will always ruin everything that has ever been good in my life.

And this is why I can’t have nice things.

My phone rings just as I’m walking into The Pipe Dream, my afternoon lessons now done.

“Eli, dude, how’s it going?” I ask, seeing my cousin’s name on the screen.

Eli laughs, the sound a deep, throaty rumble. “Awesome, just finished training, and I am now officially a firefighter,” he says, and I can hear the excitement in his voice.

“Fuck, that’s awesome, congrats, man,” I say, happy for him. He’s wanted to do this for ages, and despite missing out the first time he tried out, he didn’t give up. “So, you coming back home soon?” I ask, wondering if Sloane would be happy if my cousin moved back in with us.

They have met before but haven’t really spent a ton of time together, and I know how she is with strangers in her personal space.

“Nah, I’ve actually been assigned to a crew here on Oahu, so I’m gonna stay here for a bit. Hope to get back to Maui soon though,” he says. “But yeah, I guess I won’t be moving back in for a while.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No worries, I actually have a new roommate anyway,” I tell him.

“Oh, I see, it’s like that, is it? Replace me as soon as I walk out the door.”

“No, it was more a case of helping someone out,” I reply, waving at Nate as I hover by the door.

“Okay, so who is it?” he asks, and my smile widens.

“My girlfriend, Sloane.”

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