Chapter 10
Nate
I wake up at sunrise, the sun breaking in through the curtains. I throw off my sheets, leaving them crumpled in a heaped pile on the bed—a mirror of my tangled thoughts. My feet hit the floor, and I make my way to the living room and the balcony door.
The sounds of Recife wrap around me—distant waves lapping, gulls squawking overhead, the faint hum of a city just stirring awake.
The morning breeze is cool, holding onto the night’s shadows, waiting for the sun to infuse it with warmth.
The sky is shifting from deep, bold tones into something lighter, like it’s holding onto the promise of brightness for the day ahead.
Salt hangs in the air, sharp and alive, and I take a long, deliberate breath, letting it settle into my chest.
I told them all last night I didn’t get up regularly to watch the sunrise. But today feels different. Today, the sun climbs out from the recesses of darkness carrying a sense of hope—and something else, too. Uncertainty is still at war within me.
I barely slept. Tossing and turning, my mind couldn’t stop circling her. Lizzie. Thoughts of her were relentless, teasing and pulling at me all at once. I was restless. I still feel restless. I feel powerless, and yet… the thought of doing nothing feels unbearable.
I left her with my card. The ball is in her court. There’s not much else I can do. Leaving my card with her was the dating version of an olive branch. I’m interested… but I’m not the one leaving. She is. She has to choose whether to explore what we could be.
And that makes all the difference.
But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like I want to try something.
Anything. I don’t like seeing a spark and watching it fade out.
I want to see if this could be something real—if she could be the woman I could spend the rest of my life with.
That’s my mindset now. No dancing around the edges.
I want the whole thing. I want marriage. A home.
I step back inside, moving toward the kitchen. The door shuts quietly behind me, and I hear movement.
“Boss!” Camila exclaims, palm to her chest.
I smile at her.
“I didn’t expect you to be up so early!”
“Neither did I, Camila.”
“Let me get your coffee ready,” she says, brisk but warm.
“Thank you, I’d really appreciate that, actually. I’m sure I could work the coffee maker but no one makes it as good as you,” I reply, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah, go on and sit your butt down in your living room,” she teases, grinning at me and dismissing me with a wave.
As I sit and sink in the chair, I look over at my Bible on the coffee table and pick it up. I want to get some clarity for the thoughts that feel like they’re ping-ponging in my mind.
Before I can settle into reading, Camila brings the coffee over. The smell reaches my nose and feels like a jolt of lightning straight into my blood stream before I’ve even taken a drink.
“I think we’re going to need a little more than coffee to fix those purple eye bags under your eyes.” She leans over and squints while examining my face.
“I didn’t think I looked that bad.” I frown.
“Sheesh. That makes it look worse. Put a smile on it and that’ll cover it a bit better.” She laughs and moves to stand again.
“I take it your sleep was riddled with dreams of a certain brunette?” Her grin turns mischievous.
I sigh, letting my body sink further into the chair.
“Not very many dreams per se… just… thoughts. Lots of them.” I look out the window to where the sun is making its appearance, the sky covered in pastels fit for a fairground cotton candy stand.
“I figured as much. She looked like she would be a good one.”
“Oh yeah? You can tell that within two minutes of meeting her?” I raise my eyebrow at Camila.
She shrugs. “I’m a good judge of character normally. It’s the little things that show who a person really is.”
I nod in agreement. “You are a good judge of character. Normally.” I pause. “Except I can never understand how you love some of the characters you love on tv shows. They’re always annoying.” I stifle a laugh.
She gives me a chiding look, as if I’m supposed to know better.
“Well, that’s the thing. I like to look beneath the surface of what people say—or even how they act. Sometimes their reactions are just mirrors of what’s happening inside.”
I hadn’t quite thought of it like that. “So you see a redemption story for them is what you’re saying?”
“Redemption stories are my favorite.” She grins.
I think about this for a minute. The coffee steam rises off my cup, drifting into the air while I contemplate.
Redemption stories are my favorite, too. The ones in the Bible, the ones I keep reading over and over—the messy, broken parts of us offered to God, and Him turning them into something beautiful.
That thought ignites a fresh fire in me.
I guess I could try a little harder with Lizzie this morning. See if maybe…
“Hey, Camila?” I ask, voice higher as I know she’s gone back to the kitchen.
“Yeah, boss?” I hear back.
I get up from my chair and walk over to her again, stepping light on the wooden floor. I know she’s about to start cooking breakfast so I don’t want her to move between rooms constantly.
“I was thinking… maybe you could send a breakfast basket to Lizzie for me?” I ask hesitantly.
I wonder if Camila thinks this is a good idea.
Lizzie is leaving. I left her my card already…
but maybe I should make my intentions really speak loud.
Loud enough for her to know I want to see if we could be something more.
That I want to see if we could have something that might turn out into something amazing.
Camila’s grin is wider than the Cheshire Cat’s grin as she puts a pan on the stove top.
“Absolutely. Anything you want me to include?” She says nonchalantly, but the hint of excitement is underneath.
I think about it. What did Lizzie mention last night that she loves? I feel like there was something—
“Some English tea please?”
“Just like the queen. On it!” She grabs a notepad, on a mission already. “I’ll make yours first, since you’re up at stupid o’clock, then pop across the street to get a few more items. Plenty of time before she’s awake.”
I lift my mug to sip, hiding a grin behind it. Liquid caffeine warms me immediately. “If I’m up at stupid o’clock, what time were you up?”
She whirls over at me, incredulous. “I’m up at ‘I’m-getting-paid-enough-for-this’ o’clock.”
I laugh. “Well, you got me there. Although I definitely don’t expect you to be here so early, you know that right?”
“Boss, don’t you worry about that. I’m up this early for myself. I’m excited to see my grandchildren running around later today, so I’d rather get everything ready early so I can maximize my time later.”
“Touche.” I lift my mug in a toast to her, and head back to my favorite chair.
I pick up my Bible again.
I may not know what God has in store for me, but I’ll do the best with what I’ve got, and trust Him with the rest.
Camila is loading the breakfast basket up with all the goods.
“You think she’ll like it?” I ask, stirring my second coffee, my pulse a little quicker, alive with anticipation.
“She’ll love it. Food is every girl’s dream.” She shrugs.
I lift the lid to look inside the basket, noting the items. I can just imagine Lizzie’s delight at opening it. Her smile was radiant last night—I almost wish I could see her opening it.
“I’ll be heading out shortly to go for that work call, but if she calls, ask her to leave her number so I can give her a call back.” I move to the end of the kitchen.
“You think I won’t?” Camila’s eyes shoot daggers of playful challenge at me.
“I shouldn’t have even said anything,” I say, stifling laughter.
“Mhmmm,” she says, and I hear her moving between rooms as I step back toward the bedroom.
The light is fully radiant now, bathing the room in sunlight. It echoes how I feel internally.
Anticipation hums in my veins, ready for the day to begin. It’s like hope has come calling, and I don’t want to shut the door on it.
I’m hoping she’s going to like the basket. But mostly, I hope she likes the sentiment behind it and sees what I want her to see.
I’m not giving up just yet.