Page 63 of Artfully Wild
Jacob turns my way, his mouth ready to bite into the burger halfway to his lips.
“Mystore,” I repeat. And something clicks into place. Something I have been missing.
Jacob sets down his burger and mutes Buddy the Elf’s burp emanating from the television. He turns his body to me, crosses his legs at the ankles, his attention fully on me.
He looks at me and instead of asking questions like I would have expected him to, he waits, ready to listen to the conversation I was having with myself in my head.
“My dad’s store has never really felt like mine,” I start to explain, trying to unravel my tornado of thoughts. “I mean, he named it for me and everything when I took it over, but it was always his. I tried going to school to learn all the background stuff to be able to run it and Ididwant to take over at one point, but when I came back here and he pulled away almost immediately, I did what I could. For him. For Sarah. But I was just thinking about the store and the idea of selling it. It’ll be gone,” I pause and swipe a tear from my cheek. “It’ll just be… gone.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I sniff and ignore the urge to wipe my nose on the robe and grab for a napkin on one of the trays instead. Jacob reaches across the foot of distance between us onthe bed and places a reassuring hand on my knee. “It’s okay to have been excited about the idea of selling the store and then feel differently about it a few days later. There are no rules saying you have to do one thing or another and it’s valid for you to have conflicting feelings. You’re allowed to change your mind.”
“But…I’m supposed to travel. And paint. And not be stuck.”
“You aren’tsupposedto do anything. And who says you’re stuck? Just because you think people expect you to travel and not stay in Blue Grove doesn’t in any way mean youhaveto travel. If you want to stay and run the store, that’sokay.You’re allowed to be content with that life and no one can make you feel otherwise. If you want to travel and paint again, do that. If you want to keep the store and rebrand it, do that. Hell, if you want to do both, do both!”
I let out a teary laugh. “Really,” he continues, shifting so his legs are under him and he’s on his knees. “Hire a manager to run the store while you’re not there and travel again.”
My lips curl up in a smile and think back on my dad’s words from our last talk, wondering why it’s something that now two people have brought up and not an idea I thought of myself.
Because you didn’t even give yourself a chance to have any other choice.
“But, the only reason I’m even here right now is to sign paperwork tosellthe store.”
“So?”
“So,” I repeat, trying to think of a valid argument. “So, I have to go through with it.”
“Who says?”
Two words. Two simple words stop my jumbled thoughts. Because he’s right.
When I don’t respond, he continues. “Did you sign anything online that was legally binding?”
“No, I didn’t sign anything, but—”
“Then there it is,” he says like it’s the most simple thing in the world, and maybe it is. He’s right. I didn’t make any legal commitment to this. I only feel the obligation to follow through because I have done nothing but lead Camp on and made him fully believe that I was going to sell the store to him. My guilt makes it harder to back out.
“You’re allowed to change your mind. Even if you were halfway through signing the damn paperwork, you’d be allowed to change your mind and if Camp doesn’t like that, I’ll kick his ass.”
“You’re saying that if I decide not to sell and Camp is angry with me, you’ll take it upon yourself to assault an old man?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“You and I both know Camp could get me on my ass faster than either of us could react. I’d be more worried for myself honestly,” he laughs.
I nod my head in agreement and we both fall to the bed laughing. After a few minutes of clutching our sides, we settle into the duvet.
His eyes meet mine and I look into the deep hazel woods in front of me and mentally kick myself for not seeing the look in them sooner. He’s practically been here all of my life and we both pushed each other so far away and wasted so much time alone or with other people that we could have spent together. We knew those people wouldn’t make us happy, yet, we still tried. It was a completely useless trek up the tallest mountain only to be met with fog and mist at the top rendering the “most beautiful view in the state” hidden beneath.
Except the most beautiful view in the state—hell, in the world—is laying a few feet in front of me, staring at me like I am a rehabilitated animal ready to find its new home. And I think Iamready. Except I’ve already found my new home.
It’s with him. Jacob Sinclair. My best friend.
“I love you,” I blurt.
His eyes widen. “What?”
Shit, that could have been a little more graceful. I didn’t even plan on telling him just yet, because I was afraid of moving things too fast.
Fuck that.I tell myself. I’ve loved this man for years and have been so terrified to admit it not only to myself, but to him. I’m done wasting time. I’m not denying myself the things I deserve any longer.
