To the Beach and Back

Chapter Three

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

All the clothes piled on my bed by ten o'clock Saturday morning are either too tight, too old, too ... blah, just wrong! I have plenty of older clothes to work in, of course. But what if Nick wants to go out for happy hour? Dinner? Or worse ... the beach?

No. Absolutely not.

There's no way I can wear a swimsuit in front of Nick. Not with all this extra weight. I flop back on an armchair and cover my face with a pillow, furious over all my failed fitness attempts. Why have I let myself go?

This is a stupid idea.

I never should have agreed to this because I'm an overweight slob with nothing to fucking wear and absolutely NO CHANCE with a man who's been dating a beautiful, young jewelry designer.

Below me, Sadie looks up and lets out a few sympathetic groans. I lean over to scratch the old girl, noticing with a frown how more dull, gray fur is coming out in patches at her thigh ... and how a puddle is slowly expanding on the hardwood floor beneath her tail.

"Shoot!"

Sadie pins her ears back as I run for paper towels, her dark eyes filling with guilt while I clean up the mess even though she probably doesn't realize she's leaked urine again for the third time this week. She just knows that I'm not happy. That I'm rarely happy.

Poor girl. It's not Sadie's fault. Her kidneys are weak, and her hips have gotten so bad that she wobbles with each step. She had always been a loyal and loving dog, catching every frisbee Wesley tossed when she was younger no matter how tired she was.

I bet she'd give anything to chase Frisbees again.

I smile as Sadie reaches her stocky face toward mine, giving me a kiss of apology, her breath rancid. I sigh and stroke her head, holding her beneath the chin and staring hard into her eyes.

"Are you tired, girl? Is it time?"

Is it time to end her pain?

Sometimes I wish she'd say yes, taking the responsibility away from me. But she offers no answer, just love, making me feel awful for even asking the question. I scratch her behind the ears, pressing her body closer, my eyes shut before I stop to clean up the mess.

I grab my phone from the nightstand.

I'll just tell Nick I have too much work to do, and that Sadie isn't up for traveling. Then I can stick with my logical stay-cation plan and have two glorious weeks at home to catch up with my to-do list.

How amazing would that feel?

To be finally caught up for once?

Then afterward, I'll start taking better care of myself. I'll lose weight, improve my skin, and when another chance with Nick comes along, I'll be prepared. Besides, he's the one who wants to sell the beach house. He should be the one dealing with it.

But I just stare at the screen, my fingers frozen.

What if another chance never comes along?

Once the beach house is sold, that's it, the last remaining link between Nick and I will be gone forever, leaving me no reason to ever spend time with him again. And what did Ryan say? You need to start living again before it's too late.

I take a deep breath and throw down my phone.

No. I can do this.

My phone bounces off the bed, landing on the floor, my home screen photo of Wesley sparking an idea.

Wesley. What if I invited our son to the beach? That would give us the PERFECT chance for me to see him. We could work at Haven during the day and then go to happy hours and dinners in the evenings.