Page 92 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
Today is the first time I moved on to actual physical contact—touching the bristles of each brush, holding every tube of paint in my hands and feeling the familiar weight. I even put one canvas on the easel Hunter brought. It’s ready and waitingjust in case.My fingers are practically twitching with the need to put a brush in my hands and fill the blank canvas with color.
They’re also twitching with the need to touch Hunter, who has been suddenly and intensely busy the last few days. He still has Isabelle, which means carpool lines and activities. There’s also some issue I didn’t understand with insulation in the crawl space under the house. That is about the only place I won’t follow Hunter while he works—because of spiders and snakes and who knows what else that might be creepy crawling under there. Between Isabelle and the insulation, I haven’t seen much of him in a few days.
The timing actually couldn’t be better for a breather. Things with Hunter went from awkward, because of all the past stuff hanging between us, to making up for lost time with our mouths. But we’ve had very little discussion about our current reality, much less about what the future might hold. It’s been nice in some ways. But we can’t ignore the elephant in the room forever.
Then we had that double date.
Dinner itself was fine. Great, actually. I never liked Simon’s friends so it was refreshing to enjoy Dante and Jasmine. Conversation flowed. I enjoyed Hunter beside me, always touching me or glancing my way.
Things were perfect right up until Cassidy called. I don’t think Hunter and Cassidy still harbor romantic feelings for each other, but their pasts are tangled up enough to carry over into the present. Maybe too much? I can’t tell if I’m being irrational or if maybe they need to shore up some firmer boundaries. Rational or not, it doesn’t stop the uncomfortable and insistent whine of jealousy.
I get it—they were married. They share Isabelle, who is an amazing human. There’s a whole history there, one that badly hurt me, even if Hunter still doesn’t knowhowbadly. It’s itchy and uncomfortable and something I’ll absolutely have to bring up at some point. Or just get over.
Because it’s not going away. The past has been written.
But did Hunterreallyhave to spend ten minutes on the phone with his ex in the middle of our date? I mean, she wasn’t popping out a baby thatminuteor anything. I saw Dante and Jasmine exchange a look, so I know I wasn’t the only one who thought it was odd.
Okay, and maybe slightly rude.
On the ride home, before Hunter dropped me off, he seemed distracted and a little distant. Not cold. Not even cool. Just not fully present.
I’ve seen this with him before, his need to pull away when he has a lot on his mind, so I figure the space this week is probably good for us both. If we’re really doing this relationship—and more and more, I REALLY want to do this—I have to make some decisions.
“Are you still with me?” Sadie asks, squinting at the phone screen. “What are you messing with?”
“Nothing.” I snatch the phone off the dresser and move to the living area, holding the camera close enough to my face she can probably see my every pore—but not the art supplies behind me.
“Anyway,” I say brightly, flopping down on the couch. “Any suggestions for sorting out my emotions? Like, how do I separate wanting to stay for me and wanting to stay for Hunter?Meisn’t very trustworthy right now. Becausemewants Hunter.”
“Like Cookie Monster wants cookies?”
I snort. “Maybe a little more than that.”
Sadie shoots me a shocked expression. “Really? Because Cookie Monster really,reallywants cookies.”
And I really, REALLY want Hunter. Enough that I’m considering moving permanently to this small island I never thought I’d set foot on again in my life.
But is Hunter the whole reason I want to stay?Thatis the question.
“What are you going to do about Cassidy?” Sadie asks.
That’s a quick way to sour my mood. “Ugh. I don’t know. I think I’m just being overly jealous and immature. I mean, they’re co-parenting, so I’ll have to get over it. Or get along. Or at least, not feel weird and possessive.”
“Yeah,” Sadie says, sounding unconvinced. “But it sounds to me like maybe they need to also revisit how much she relies on Hunter.”
“You think?” I ask, feeling validated to hear Sadie echo my concern. I don’t have the first clue how to know what’s normal for divorced couples. And the last thing I want to do is act like a jealous teenager.
“I do. Just broach the topic. Share what seems off or makes you uncomfortable. It’ll be fine.”
I hope so. But thinking about Cassidy adds one more tiny doubt or worry adding to a growing pile in my mind. “Is this stupid? I mean, leaving New York City for Oakley Island—that’s so … I don't know. Backwards?”
“There’s not some hierarchy of places to live. You weren’t happy in New York,” Sadie says. “Were you?”
I’m quiet for a moment, letting my mind play back memories of the years I spent in the city. I remember my excitement at first. The magic of New York, the energy of the city. I had a great job and everything was lining up to accomplish all my goals.
Except, now that I’m thinking about it, all my goals were solely career-related. And that’s mostly what I remember after the first few months in New York: work. Well, work and Simon. Turns out he wasn’t much of a draw after all.
“I thought I was happy,” I tell Sadie. “But now I’m not sure.”
