The Struggles of Growing Up-Completed

Chapter 35

This was a good idea.

The summer's practically over and I've been to the beach maybe once or twice. I've been trapped indoors for months and it's a welcome relief to be outside. It's a relief to be in something other than slacks and professional blazers, to touch the sand and not have to answer anyone's questions or concerns. To just be.

The ocean is calm and comforting, and there's not many people around as it's a Wednesday morning. The warm sun would turn anyone away from a day outside, but right now it's exhilarating. I feel free, stronger, maybe an inch taller.

I draw circles in the sand for a while, admiring the cool, calm ocean and the light sound of seagulls going about their day. Everything's simpler here, and it's inspiring.

I turned my phone on silent so as not to be disturbed. I only told Deb that I would be out, but I didn't say for what because that would only cause more problems.

And I'm sick of problems and talking about my problems and reliving my problems. I just want to live and forget for just a few hours, because so much has happened that it's clouding my brain. It's clouding everything and it's difficult to keep up. It's easier to focus on the sound of the waves and bask in the sun.

Even if I do have an annoying cast on my leg reminding me of the damn accident. Making me look like a weirdo wearing a bathing suit and a cast.  I can't go into the ocean even if I wanted to.

Huh, maybe that's why people keep looking at me.

I lean back into the beach chair and continue to draw circles in the sand, mindlessly. I thought I could do this. I thought I could push through blindly and move on but I can't. I have a heavy reminder on my leg. And I'm sick of people feeling sorry for me, I just want to make out with my boyfriend and go to the beach. 

Maybe I'll sell the company. 

I didn't tell Zach I came to the beach instead of... well, I just didn't tell him. Ha, if he knew I was here we would say–

"Emma what the hell?"

Well, those weren't the exact words I was thinking of, but, yeah, pretty close. Wait, what?

I take off my sunglasses and turn around to see the charming, charismatic man  who has completely changed my life. 

He's standing behind my chair, so I have to really twist my back to even face him, and with this side the sun is right in my eyes, beaming from behind Zach. He looks odd, dorky even, in his work clothes at the beach in 85 degree weather. His arms are crossed and his stance makes me feel like a child who just got a red card.

"Well..." I start, not really wanting to explain or say anything. Not wanting to really talk about anything. It's sad because I actually didn't even want to see him today, because then he'd say–

"Why did you skip your appointment?" he says, strangely, with anger and empathy laced together. I sigh and begin to put my things back into my bag, turning away from him. He walks around to stand in front of me, his arms still crossed together in front of him, like he's my father and I did something bad.  

"Emma?" I just look up at him and stay silent, for a variety of reasons. One, I feel a lump in my throat and a slight stinging in my eyes and I do not want to show him that this affects me. 

He gives me another reprimanding look, sighs, then sinks to his knees in front of me, being careful with my broken leg. He grabs my hand, but I subconsciously resist. 

"I'm fine, I don't know why you want me to see Dr. Weatherly. He's an ass." I cross my arms in front of me, releasing any contact with him. He purses his lips, and I immediately regret being so harsh, because just his overall essence makes me want to go do something charming.