Chapter 39
Maren
Ozzie: I’m going to miss the hell out of you.
Mare: I’m going to miss the hell out of you back.
It’s off season, but Ozzie and Jax always help Horner with things around the facility, especially promos for next season, because they live in Mango Bay year round.
I found out last night, it comes with a pretty little addition to his contract in the form of monetary compensation.
He has a few things to do this week, and he will be back here for Christmas.
I love the city this time of year—really every time of the year, but Christmas time is extra special.
Becks and I are meeting for breakfast and then I have a packed day of pampering myself.
I realized two things last night, one—I’m in desperate need of a wax appointment, and two—Ozzie is totally fine with Becks and I hanging out.
It surprised me, but honestly it was going to be a hard line for me regardless.
Becks is my only friend here, plus sex has not been on the table in a long time.
“I got your bagel. Grab us a table,” Becks says as I walk into the bagel shop.
I sit down at our usual table, and reread the text from Ozzie over and over again, like a lovesick puppy while I wait for Becks to join me. I can’t believe Ozzie came here.
My phone pings with an email notification from work, and it startles me. I forgot I turned the sound on when I was waiting for Ruby.
Shit, I have to call Ruby.
I open the email, and my mouth drops open. I can’t even get past the first sentence. We’d like to offer you a permanent contract as a primary choreographer.
“What is that face?” Becks laughs.
“They offered me a permanent contract.” My words trail off in mixed emotion.
“That’s amazing.”
I look up at him, “Yeah.”
“You don’t look excited.”
I shake my head, shaking myself right out of this weird place I’m sitting. “No, it’s great, I just… I never actually considered leaving Mango Bay permanently. I mean, Ruby’s there, and Sadie.”
“And Ozzie,” he finishes my thought, and I hate myself a little for just a second for letting a guy be a factor in this decision. Then the truth sets in.
I roll my eyes, “Don’t look at me like that. We’re not 17, and I’m not picking colleges based on a guy. We’re almost 30 and I’m taking the man I love into consideration, because as much as this job offer is a part of my future, he is too.” It’s the truth, and we both know it.
The idea that Ozzie is a significant part of my future rolls around in my head like jelly. After my wax appointment, I wander the city contemplating my choices.
When I sit in front of the Rockefeller tree, I watch couples ice skate and imagine Ozzie and I out there with a toddler teaching them to skate.
When I ride the subway to Chelsea to pick up some wine and macarons from my favorite corner shop, I realize that maybe living in the city with said toddler isn’t in my dreams, causing my thoughts to drift back to Base & Bean, and all of the cozy parks that surround the stadium.
I also imagine us sitting in the stands watching Oz play.
I imagine our son dancing, and singing on the stage during the parade, and Orbit having the best time chasing him around.
I imagine Sadie and Ruby there to give me a baby shower, and helping us watch our kids on occasion when we want a night alone.
By the time I get back to my apartment and open the bottle of wine, I’m homesick.
Ozzie messaged me a few hours ago that he landed and then again when he was home. As I reread his texts, I realize that as much as I miss everyone else back home, he’s the home I’m the most homesick for. He’s also the one I need to be thinking through all of these what ifs with.
I pick up my phone and call him.
It rings a few times, and then goes to voicemail.
I shove two raspberry macaroons in my mouth and wash them down with the rest of my wine, and then my phone rings with his gorgeous face on the screen.
“Hi baby.” My insides smile at the sight of him.
“You have crumbs on your chin, babe.” He chuckles.
I wipe my chin with my sleeve, “I wanted to run something past you.”
“Shoot,” he says, setting the phone down and moving slightly out of frame as he takes off his shirt.
“Can you come back where I can see you? It’s not fair to have you way over there.”
“Sorry,” he says, moving back on camera.
“That’s better.” I lick my lips not knowing exactly how to start this conversation. “I got an email today from work, they offered me a permanent contract. They want me to be a primary choreographer,” I say opting for direct, he’d hate anything else.
“Wow. That’s amazing. I’m so fucking proud of you, Mare. Let’s celebrate when I come back.” He sounds happy and confident. His eyes never leave mine. It’s different this time.
My brows crease. “So, we’re just going to do long distance forever?”
I will. I know that now.
He pauses, and his expression flattens, “I didn’t really consider that, I’m just excited as hell for you. We’ll figure it out. There are options.” Again he sounds so sure.
After a pause, he speaks again, “Look at me. I don’t want you to worry about it. There are options. Don’t fixate on this all night. Be happy for yourself, you deserve this. We’ve got this, Mare.”
I try to do what he says, as we lay in bed and talk, but when my eyes get heavy with sleep, I’m not relaxed. I’m still thinking about it. Even though I try so damn hard to do what he says.