The Girlfriend (Single Wide Female in Love, Book 2) (9 page)

“We just ran into each other. I stopped in to pick something up and Stephanie happened to be there.”
 

I frowned. I could see that happening. Stephanie was on her way to meet me, so she had stopped at the shop. Why Max was there? That, I didn’t know.
 

“It just seems odd to me that the two of you would run into each other that way.”
 

“You think we planned it?”
 

“I don’t know what to think.”
 

“Sammy, there’s nothing between Stephanie and me. You know that, don’t you?”
 

I nodded.
 

“Are you sure?” He cupped my cheeks with his hands. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
 

“I’m okay. I promise.” I kissed him again. Then I walked him toward the door. “Hey, I was thinking about learning to surf. Is that something you’d like to do with me?”
 

“Sure, I guess.” He scratched his head. “It could be fun.”
 

“Great.” I smiled. “I’ll let you know when I set up the lessons.”
 

He looked into my eyes one last time. “I love you, Sammy.”
 

“I love you too, Max. Thanks for the dessert.”

Chapter 19

That night I found it very difficult to sleep. All I could think of was the bottom of that container. I’d worked myself up yet again. I believed that Max was going to propose. Why else had he and Stephanie been whispering and sneaking around? I thought I’d put my suspicions about them to rest, but now I wasn’t so sure. What if Max and Stephanie were talking about me because they were worried about me? The more I went over in my head the reasons why Max might not want to marry me, the worse I felt.

He had a stable career with a good income. I was a writer. Sure, I was doing pretty well for myself, but that didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t exactly a stable career. Maybe Max was waiting for me to grow up a little? It hurt my heart to think that he didn’t believe in my writing. Then I realized that I was inventing Max’s feelings. I had no idea how he really felt abut my writing. He had never been anything but supportive about it.

So why no ring?

I turned over and punched my pillow. I hated feeling so anxious. I was worried that I didn’t trust Max, and I was worried that the proposal I’d expected was never going to happen. Maybe that was the problem. Max had never told me that he would propose by a certain time. So why was I stuck on the idea that he was going to now? I was waiting and waiting only to be disappointed. But whose fault was that?

I sighed and buried my face into the pillow. I decided I would turn over a new leaf in the morning. I didn’t want Max to think I was clingy or demanding. I’d let my emotions and worry distract me from making any real progress on my book.

I would wake up and refuse to think about marriage or the future. In fact, I would spend as little time as possible with him. I would focus on my writing and on getting my diet and exercise plan back on track. I had a future, even if Max wasn’t sure if he wanted to be in it. I still had to prepare for it.
 

When I woke up the next morning I felt the weight of my thoughts the night before. It was hard to believe that I’d let myself spiral so fast. I’d gone from being self-aware and self-confident to drowning in my insecurities.

I sent Max a text.
 

I’m going to be working as much as possible. Love you.
 

Then I turned my phone off. I was not going to let anything distract me.

I spent the next half hour going through withdrawal. I was used to having constant contact with Max. If I wondered about him and his day, I could just text him. If I wanted to go out for lunch, I could give him a call to see if he wanted to join me. But with my phone off, I felt very disconnected.

Still, I resisted turning it on.

I focused on the book I was working on. I couldn’t expect to be an inspiration to women if I was sitting around waiting for a man to propose to me. The very thought made my stomach churn. I had really gotten off my path of healthy self-esteem.

As I began to type, all of the things I’d learned over the past year came back to me. I had to remain in my peace, I had to stay focused in the present. If that meant limiting my time with Max until I could get over the hurt of the proposal that never happened, then that was what I would have to do.

I felt uneasy as I wrote about relationships in the book. I was beginning to wonder if relationships were ever something I could master. I remembered what the man at the club had said to me. I had gotten too used to being alone. Would I ever be able to open my heart?

I tried to distract myself by eating at home and not leaving my apartment. I didn’t want to be tempted to call Max.

It was nearly evening when I got an e-mail. I was a little startled, as it was from the address that Max had used when he pretended to be Blue.
 

Hello? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you all day.
 

It was nice that he’d noticed that I was missing, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to give in and turn my phone on just yet.
 

Sorry, been busy with work. Writing is my career, you know.
 

I didn’t really think about how annoyed that sounded until after I sent the e-mail. Max responded a few seconds later.
 

Yes, I know. I’m sorry for interrupting. Let me know when you come up for air. Love you.
 

My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I thought about what I wanted to send back to him. There were a million things that I wanted to say, but I knew that they would start a conversation, I knew I would get pulled back into my insecurities. I just needed a breather from the chaos that was my love for Max.
 

Love you too.
 

I sent the e-mail knowing that Max would be a little put off by how short and vague it was. But for once I didn’t obsess about it.

It struck me that I needed to find Samantha—not Sammy, who was in love with Max—but Samantha, the woman, the writer, the bucket list Olympian.

I needed to feel one hundred percent whole again.

Chapter 20

Instead of just tuning back into my writing, I decided to tune back into my go-to inspirational websites. There were a few blogs that I’d been following the past year for the uplifting messages I found there. Of course I had a large collection of inspiring memes too. I needed to be reminded of how far I’d come along my journey.

I felt the strange sensation of getting lighter. Even though I knew realistically that I hadn’t lost any weight, I felt as if a weight had been lifted off me.

By the end of the day, I felt more secure than ever. I turned my phone back on. I found that I had a dozen texts from Stephanie. I had half that amount from Max. I was tempted to call him, but decided to connect with Stephanie first.

I dialed her number.
 

“Oh, so you are alive?” She laughed when she picked up the phone.
 

“Last time I checked.” I laughed too.
 

“What’s going on?”
 

“I was working. Just wanted to catch up on some things. What’s going on with you?”
 

“You mean other than going through Samantha withdrawal?”
 

“Ha ha.”
 

“I mean it. You can’t just not text me. It’s not cool.” She laughed again.
 

“I’m sorry. To be honest, I’m having a hard time keeping my head clear.”
 

“Why?”
 

“Ah well, you know.”
 

“Max?”
 

“Max.”
 

“Samantha, I don’t understand what you’re worried about. He clearly adores you.”
 

I cringed. I didn’t even know how to explain it myself. “I guess I’m just feeling a little strange about why things aren’t moving forward.”
 

“You have to stop worrying so much. Just let things happen as they will. Trust me.”
 

“Thanks.”
 

While I was on the phone with Stephanie, it vibrated to let me know that I had a text.
 

“Stephanie, I’ve got to go.”
 

“Okay, but don’t be a stranger. I’ve really enjoyed us hanging out so much lately.”
 

“I know. Me too.”
 

When I hung up the phone I looked at the text.
 

Are you still going to meet me for the surfing lesson?
 

I frowned. I’d forgotten about setting up the class earlier. I didn’t exactly feel strong enough to meet up with him, but at the same time I couldn’t avoid him much longer. If the shoe was on the other foot and it was Max not contacting me, I would be losing my mind.
 

Yes. I’ll be there. Love you.
 

It was a short text, but I hoped it reassured him.
 

So you’re coming up for air?
 

I smiled at the text.
 

For a little while.
 

I waited a moment, as I expected him to text back. When I didn’t receive any more texts I put the phone down.

The surf lesson was in the morning, and that meant I was going to have to get into a swimsuit. It had been a while since I put one on. I dug around in my drawer and found the one I had most recently purchased. It fit okay in the store, but looking at it made me anxious as I wondered if it would still look okay. Over the past few weeks I hadn’t done a great job of following my diet and exercise routine.

I changed into the suit and then turned to look in the mirror. All I could see was flaws. My thighs were flabby. My arms drooped. My breasts sagged. I didn’t even want to think about the mound of fat around my waist. I was very disappointed. The suit fit the same as it had in the store, but clearly I’d lost sight of my beauty. A flicker of panic rushed through me. I couldn’t let Max see me like this. He would go running for the hills. I was sure of it. My chest ached with anxiety.

I was about to grab my phone to cancel the lesson, when I realized how that would seem to Max. It would hurt him if I cancelled our plans. As I thought about it more, I realized this was an opportunity to trust Max. Max had never been anything but kind about the way I looked. I had no real reason to think he would be any different the next morning. It was just my panic and insecurity talking.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look in the mirror again. Okay, I might have put on a pound or two, but not much. I hadn’t been exercising as much, so I wasn’t as toned, but the suit still fit.
 

“Sammy, you’ve got to get a grip.” I shook my head at myself. “Max loves you.”
 

Even saying that out loud in my empty bedroom to my worried reflection felt like a risk. Was I ever going to believe it?
 

I changed back into my suit and decided that I needed more than inspiring websites and memes, I needed some face-to-face inspiration. I put a call in to the meditation teacher that I’d been working with. There were no classes that night, but he said he would meet me with me for a private session.

I felt relieved. I needed some serious inner-self time.

As I left the apartment I grabbed my phone. I noticed that Max still hadn’t texted me back. I was tempted to text him to see what he was up to, but I knew I had no right. I was the one that was being distant, not him. I just hoped that he would understand while I worked to get myself together again.

Chapter 21

I’d never attended a private session with my meditation teacher before. I was looking forward to having the one-on-one focus.

When I knocked lightly on the door of the classroom I heard music playing inside. I was pulled in by the peaceful sound of it. I opened the door to find my meditation teacher cross-legged and peaceful—that much I expected. What I did not expect was that he wouldn’t be wearing any clothes.
 

“Oops, I’m so sorry. I must be early.” I backed out of the room.
 

“It’s okay, Samantha. Here.” He spread a towel across his lap. “Does that make you feel more comfortable?”

I was going to point out that he still didn’t have clothes on, but I decided against it. Why should I feel uncomfortable around him in his natural state? He obviously fully accepted his body and expected me to as well. I had no concerns about his intentions.
 

“Okay, thanks.” I stepped back into the room. “Are you sure I’m not intruding?”
 

“Not at all.” He gestured to the cushion in front of him. “Get comfortable and settle in. We’ll do a quick guided meditation.”
 

I sat down in front of him. I thought about taking my clothes off, but decided against it. He said to get comfortable, not get naked.
 

As soon as I was settled he began speaking. I closed my eyes and let his voice take me on a journey. It didn’t matter what he looked like, or what his name was; the lilt of his voice was the most relaxing thing I’d ever experienced.

My body began to relax. My mind, however, was a different story. I found it very difficult to let go of my racing thoughts. In my head, I was warring over whether I could accept Max’s love or not. I wanted to trust him, to believe that he loved me, but there were so many reasons why he wouldn’t.

I sighed and tried to focus past those thoughts. I needed to find my place of peace, where I could hear that still voice.

Deeper and deeper I drifted into my own thoughts. Flashes of being teased as a child, moments of embarrassment as an adult, all flooded my mind. It was as if my psyche was attempting to break down any chance of my building confidence. Worst of all was the way I felt about my writing. On the surface, I was confident and proud of what I’d created, but underneath I wondered if I would ever be a great writer. Anyone could type out a few words and string them together into a book. It took a true writer to create a great story.