Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Naomi
“ O f course, it was the Coast Guard coming to investigate because of the black and orange T-shirt I’d decided to run up the mast. They thought we were hostages or something. The rest of us guys were too far gone to explain, but good old Sam rescued our drunk asses by explaining that we weren’t captives, just idiots.”
I smile at the story, wishing I could enjoy it a bit more. Something about the hero of the tale being the love of my life now in limbo detracts from the punch line a bit.
“Tell me a story that doesn’t involve you know who,” I beg, pouring myself another glass of sangria.
Avery huffs out a laugh. “I was told to butter you up so you’ll forgive him. I’m going to be in trouble if Fran gets back and I haven’t done my job.”
I flop back in my chaise, shielding my eyes from the sun glinting off the pool in Fran and Avery’s back yard.This place never fails to amaze me. A villa tucked into the jungle, so opulent and over the top that it was probably built by the mob.
I’m hiding out here after coming back from town with no real plan. It wasn’t my intention to spill my secrets to Avery, but after the straightening out I got from the village elders, I decided it didn’t matter anymore. I need honesty and friendship, and the shoulder I found to lean on is attached to this unbelievably handsome, perfectly sculpted billionaire.
I don’t know how Fran sleeps at night with this man as her partner, but it probably has something to do with her being twenty-something and equally as hot. Even though I had a crush on him as a girl, same as every other kid in my school, he certainly wouldn’t be my choice anymore.
I know who I’d pick. Who I did pick.
And who I now don’t know if I’ll get to have.
Sam’s apology and his explanation were sincere. I’m sure he didn’t mean the things he said. But he said them.
Can I ever unhear him telling those people I didn’t deserve a chance because of one mistake I’d made?
I cringe as I hear the answer in my question.
“I see those doomsday eyes over there, Nay. Spill it.”
“I guess I just realized that I'm canceling Sam for what he said even though it was a mistake and he apologized.”
“Ooh, dang. Just like those mean girls did to you on the internet. Man, I don’t know what Fran was so worried about. Maybe if you were a dude, someone would need to talk some sense into you, but you ladies are too good at coming to these conclusions on your own.”
I offer him a sad smile. “I still don’t know what to do about it. This whole thing with Sam has been great. The best thing that’s ever happened to me, as a matter of fact. But it doesn't change the fact that it’s still a secret relationship that doesn’t really have a future.”
“Well, good luck with that whole no future thing,” Avery responds with a smile.
“What do you mean? ”
He gestures to the house with his chin, and I spin, squinting against the bright sun.
“Sam,” I whisper as he walks toward me with my computer bag slung over one shoulder.
“That’s my cue,” Avery says, sliding off his chaise and diving straight into the pool, emerging on the other side and disappearing into the house.
Sam flops down in the now empty chair and cringes. “This cushion is sweaty.”
I laugh in spite of myself. In spite of the situation. “We’ve been out here for a while.”
“Any life-changing pearls of wisdom come out of Ave’s mouth?”
“He was just telling me stories about times when you saved his life.”
“There should not be so many of those stories.”
Silence falls and I’m not sure how to break it. Or if I even want to.
I have no idea where to go from here. I want to forgive him, to move past this, but I’m stuck on the other side, knee deep in fear.
“I talked to Dom,” Sam says finally.
I gape at him over the top of my mirrored sunglasses. “Really? How’d that go?”
He shrugs. “Fine. I told him I’d resign, and he pretty much blew that off. Told me there wasn’t a man on the planet that wouldn’t want me to be with their little sister.”
I cough out a surprised laugh and gape at him. “You were going to resign? For what? I told you it was over.”
“It’s not over for me.”
It’s not over for me, either, but I’m not ready to admit it.
“I fucked up in there, but I’m going to make it up to you.”
“You can’t do that if I leave the island. ”
“Of course I can. I already submitted my resignation to the resort, even if it was denied. I’ll give it all up. I’ll do whatever it takes. You are the most important thing in the world to me. I know my actions over the last few weeks may not have made that clear. And my words in that meeting made it all so much worse. But I will prove myself to you. I don’t care how long it takes.”
I flip my sunglasses back down and flop into the chair.
I’ve already forgiven him. I’ve almost already moved past this whole thing.
It’s just…I thought when I got to the other side, what I’d find there was certainty. Certainty about Sam and our life together. Certainty about where I belonged.
Instead, my future—with Sam or alone—is nothing but a giant black hole, sucking the life out of me.
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m exhausted.”
Sam doesn’t answer, swinging his feet onto his chair and laying back.
“I forgive you,” I say finally. “And I want so badly for that to be enough. Back when we were at your house and this whole thing was secret and exciting, it seemed like an easy choice to keep doing it forever. But now? Now that I get to choose you and this island and this life, I’m so scared. I’ve never done anything like this. I make all my decisions based on my own needs. I’m not sure I’ve ever compromised a single time in my life. What if I give up on Austin and you decide I’m not good enough for you? It won’t be like the internet where I can just disappear and people forget about me. Everyone will see.”
And there it is. The real mystery of me. How do I allow myself to be visible and vulnerable in front of real people?
“You have to let people love you.”
Sam’s words hit straight to my heart, and I close my eyes against the tears .
“You let me see you, Naomi. The real you. And I love you. It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too. But we can do this together.”
I roll to my side and Sam leans over to take my sunglasses off, revealing my red, wet eyes. His eyes go soft as he takes me in.
I feel so laid bare. Like my entire insides are on display.
But Sam doesn’t laugh or make fun of me or shy away.
He gets up and crosses over the space between us, slotting himself onto the narrow wedge of cushion on the edge of my chaise lounge. I scoot back a few inches and he pulls me into his warmth, his safety.
And maybe this can be enough?
Maybe I can finally be a person who is good enough?
“I didn’t know about that job at the resort,” I say finally into the silence. It’s the one thing I still feel like is hanging over us. “They didn’t ask me if I wanted it or even mention it to me.”
Sam shakes his head, still curled tightly around me. “That doesn’t surprise me. They’re used to getting what they want.”
I’m also used to getting what I want, so I know what they must have been thinking.
And it wasn’t the worst idea. After my lunch with Fran where we went over the wedding pictures and my ideas for content using them, I knew she was impressed. Hell, I was impressed with myself.
I’ve spent a lot of years making myself and others look good enough to buy, and I’ve always done it following the guidelines of the very specific aesthetic I’d built for my channel. This wedding was a total leap outside that box. An opportunity to present content in whatever colorful, over the top way it actually was, rather than in my own specific color and font set.
It sparked so many new ideas in my mind to let my creativity be free. I know it’s where my future lies, Faraday or not. I won’t be selling myself anymore. I’m going to help other people sell themselves. Not at the resort, but possibly for Paradise Events.
“You’d be great for the job,” Sam says matter-of-factly, in his GM voice.
“Yeah, I would, but I’m more of a freelancer. And it doesn’t seem like the best fit for you, having me there.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I felt like that at first. You saw the way I reacted when put on the spot about it. I lashed out, and I know it’s because the thought of sharing you with them, with the world, scares me. I love having you all to myself, alone in my house, where I can be the man I want to be. The man I want to show you. I worry about having you at the resort every day where you’ll see the hard parts. And you’ll meet all the rich vacationers and maybe you'll see that I’m not so special. That you can do better.”
“You can’t keep me locked in your house for the rest of my life, job at The Sands or not.”
He holds me tighter. “I know. But a guy can dream.”
I smile and place a kiss on the top of his head. If there’s one thing in the world I can relate to, it’s insecurities. “Why is it so hard for us to feel like we’re enough? Why is it always such a struggle, such a dance, to just see ourselves as worthy of love, of fitting in?”
Sam shrugs. “I’m not sure. I thought it was just me, to be honest, growing up. Once I started managing hotels and offering counsel to employees, it became clear that most conflicts and drama stemmed from fears of not fitting in with the group. And most people are convinced that everyone fits in but them.”
“And somehow you never used that little insight to convince yourself that being an outsider was all in your head?”
“I wish. I went the other direction. Doubled down on being the poor kid of the group, the one always having to accept handouts. I just got more defensive as I got older, fiercely protecting my way of life as somehow morally superior, because that’s the only option I had for being better than other people. Because that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s not enough to belong, we have to be better.”
Naomi nods sadly. “I’m sure I wanted to fit in with my family when I was young, but by the time I was old enough to understand what was going on, that the way my household functioned wasn’t normal, all I wanted to do was be different than them. They had clearly chosen their outlooks on the world, and I was determined to see it all differently. To live a different kind of life. I get what you mean about just wanting to feel better than everyone around you. It’s not enough to fit in. It's like there’s always something to prove. That’s definitely how it is on the internet. It’s a constant game of one upmanship. I guess that’s why people take each other down like they do. It’s not really about community at all, even as much as everyone claims it is. Every person you can cancel is one less competitor for the ultimate prize. Which doesn’t even exist, as far as I can tell.”
“We are an interesting species, aren’t we?”
“It’s a miracle we’ve survived this long.”
“Speaking of which, I don’t know if I’m going to survive much longer in this sun. I already had an hour-long nap waiting next to your computer, and I’m fried.”
I look down at his sweat misted forehead and brush a lock of his short hair to the side, placing a kiss there. “Home?”
He twists enough to look up at me. “Let’s go home.”
I let him pull me to my feet and follow him around the massive pool toward the back doors of the house. “I was starting to feel like a mob wife out there, and not in a good way. In a ‘feds about to seize all my possessions’ kind of way. ”
Sam laughs and pulls me closer as we pass through the wide double doors into the equally luxurious house. Fran and Avery are nowhere to be seen. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re happy living in a three-shack homestead for the rest of your life?”
His tone is light, but I can hear the real question there. I consider my answer as he tucks me into the passenger seat of his golf cart. Mine will have to get picked up another day. “Is that what you want? To stay in that house?”
Sam’s eyes are on the road as he pulls us out of the circular driveway and onto the bumpy sand road. “That’s certainly what I would have told anyone who asked.”
Interesting. “But?”
He shrugs, tossing me a glance before turning back to the road. “But I guess once I start questioning things, I have to look at that as well. There’s a big difference between choosing to live in a three-shack homestead, spending ten years making it into a passable house, because it’s your dream and you love it. And having to live in a three-shack homestead because it’s all you can afford.”
“I can see that.”
He shrugs. “I’ve spent so long selling that place as my dream that I’m not entirely certain I know the truth anymore. It was the first house I ever bought, so there was some romanticism about it, but whether or not it’s what I’d still choose, I’m not sure. I told you earlier about my tendency to double down on my bad choices so that they can’t be called out as mistakes. I’m not saying my house is a mistake, but it’s not the hill I’m going to die on. Especially not if you need something more. You may be slumming it in guest rooms right now, but it’s not going to be long before you’re a very rich woman.”
I’m quiet for the long stretch of bumpy road leading to Sam’s driveway. There has been a lot of change, a lot of self- reflection over the last few weeks. My impending inheritance is something I’ve pushed to the back burner for so long that it almost doesn’t feel real how close I am to it.
But it’s very real, and I’m not surprised Sam wants to bring it up after all this talk about his childhood, growing up as the poor kid.
Sam turns down the driveway to the homestead and my heart swells, giving me the words I’ve been desperately trying to find. “I spent eighteen years in a massive estate with a staff and fancy cars and the whole lot. I never once felt happy there. No one in that house was ever happy. I know I’ve got a lot of money coming, but the truth is that I’ve always had a lot of money. I could have lived anywhere and done anything, but the only place I wanted to be was my apartment in Austin, making my own way in the world. Once I came here, to the island and to your house, I felt that way again. Safe. Happy. Calm. Like I could be myself and live the life I want to live. I know it’s not the house that’s giving me those feelings. It’s you. But for now, this is where I want to be.”
Sam is smiling as he parks in his usual spot and hurries around to help me out of the cart. “And wherever you are is where I want to be,” he answers, placing a kiss to the top of my head.
And what if that’s enough? What if there isn’t anything left to prove? For so long I’ve been striving to be enough, to have a career of my own, to prove that I’m worth something.
But right now, in this little jungle home, in the arms of a man who I know loves me for me, it is enough. I am enough.
“I feel like I should carry you over the threshold or something,” Sam says bashfully as we climb the few steps hand in hand.
“I’ll allow it,” I reply.