Chapter 35
thirty-five
CARINA
This day would have been miserable without my father’s commentary. But that made me the most angry—that I couldn’t even blame him. To him, my successes may not be my own, but my failures surely are.
For months he begged me to give up on the sustainability messaging and to pivot toward affordability. But that wasn’t where my values lie. Sure, I want to be affordable. I participate in programs to keep girls in sports in low-income schools and do everything I can to help. I’ve done everything right and still got screwed over.
The buck stops with me. I take responsibility for what happened. I don’t have a problem with that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be angry about it.
I hate that my friends already know. Everyone has texted me. Telling me they believe in me and there is some rational reason other than my incompetence, negligence, or malfeasance.
I should feel grateful for their continued support. But I’m expecting it to fall apart soon.
And then there’s Orion.
He showed up in exactly the way I needed him to. He brought me food and didn’t question anything. He trusted my explanation and didn’t attempt to explain how I should have seen this in hindsight.
The rest of my friends feel the same way. They’re asking what they can do and what I need. They are trying to help, but there is something about them knowing that gets under my skin.
I want this to happen in private. I want to suffer in quiet. But that’s not an option.
This was supposed to be my legacy. I wanted to leave the world a better place than I found it. I meant everything I said to Orion about why I started Nebula Athletics.
Now it feels like everything is gone.
I endured a lecture from my father on my profits and everything we can do to recover from this. How I should pivot to a different clientele, one that isn’t paying attention to the scandal and doesn’t care.
That’s not what I want to do.
Everyone keeps asking me what I want. I’m ashamed Orion’s offer looks tempting—I want to rest in his arms and sail off into the sunset. We can get far enough away that we don’t have cell service or internet and the world can forget about me. I’ll come back rested and sated and everyone else will have moved on.
What I don’t tell anyone is I’m terrified most of Orion.
I appreciate all he has done and know he cares about me. But there will come a time in the future when he gets tired of dealing with my drama and he’ll leave. He’ll sail away without me. I’ve always known this, but he’s determined to convince me he’ll always come home to Wendell Beach, even as he is constantly talking about some place he’d love to visit or a sailing destination he’d love to return to.
I used to think him coming home would be the worst outcome. That I’d be forced to see him live his life without me. But it would be much worse if he left and never returned. To think I drove him out of town.
I wouldn’t blame him. I’d leave this mess too if I could.
He’s waiting for me on my front step when I get home. It’s late. The sun has long set. He looks exhausted.
He stands. I press myself into his chest to burrow in there. He places his arms on my waist and lets me be consumed by him.
Here, I feel calm. Here, I feel centered.
But I know the truth.
This is the eye of the storm. The worst is still to come.