Through Her Eyes (29 page)

T
HE NEXT DAY
I wake up refreshed. We had an amazing dinner of margherita pizza, and I filled her in on everything that happened on my trip. I feel so much better today. So much better that I know exactly what I need to do now—and that’s start fresh. But where to start?

Job?

Chase?

Definitely job. I’m not strong enough yet to decide what to say to Chase. A part of me wonders if it’s easier to ignore it and go about my life, pretend none of it ever happened, and never confront him. I hadn’t known him that long, did I really owe it to him or myself to settle things? But then I realize that if I don’t speak to him, I’m doing what I’ve always done. I’m running. One thing I’ve realized through all of this is that you can’t run from your problems. I could have been with Parker. I could have had a few more moments with him just holding his hand if I hadn’t run. I won’t let myself regret the decision since Chase and our travels did teach me so much, but from now on, moving forward. No running.

I know for sure I don’t want to work for my father. I walk out of my room and sit down on the couch with my laptop. I majored in marketing in college and minored in business. Both would have been ideal if I was planning to take over the marketing department for our future real estate developments, but what else can I do with it? I can get a job working in another field, but that just doesn’t appeal to me either. The idea of sitting behind a desk sucks the life out of me. No, a desk job won’t work either. I open Google. I’ve never felt more alive than when I wandered aimlessly with Chase. So that’s where I start. Search engine topic . . . jobs for the free spirit. Hits . . . four unconventional jobs with great benefits.

This looks promising.
My eyes roam the list, and I laugh so hard I snort. Circus Artist? This is the perfect job for me? Maybe I need to redefine my search. Adventure Travel Trip Leader? Now this has potential. Except for the part about adventure, that’s the tricky part. I make a note in my notepad to look into jobs involving travel that would allow me to explore the world and not have to commit to one place for long. The more I think of the idea, the more it excites me. Yeah, I will definitely look into this.

Beer Cicerone? I have no idea what this is and after reading over the description, this is not the job for me. Drinking beers as a profession is not the smartest choice for me.
Next.

Stunt Performers? Yeah, NO! Hell NO! Moving on . . .

With nothing left on the list, I close the computer and decide to look more into travel jobs that don’t need to be performed in an office.

T
WO WEEKS LATER AN
d I’ve done more research than anyone should on the world of travel. The only thing that sounds remotely promising is a travel storyteller. As a travel storyteller you basically document your travels and large travel agencies and hotels pay you to stay at the hotel and ‘sample’ with cash or services. I’m not sure how much money is to be made in this venture, and truth be told, other than the random poem, I’m not very good at writing. I table the whole idea. Which leads me back to travel agent, but that would be behind a desk, and I refuse to do that.
No desk job for me.
I’m back to square one, my hands are in my hair pulling as I try to think. My phone vibrates and interrupts my thoughts.

Sophie: Meet me at Perked by my office for coffee?

Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a large yawn. At only three in the afternoon, I’m exhausted. I could use coffee.

Me: Sure, I can be there in fifteen. That okay?

Sophie: Perfect! See you soon

My steps
are sluggish as I straighten myself from my chair and then leave. Making my way outside, the warm summer air hits my face and invigorates me. In the last two weeks, I’ve barely left my apartment, and I’ve missed the sights and smells of summer. My feet slip into a brisk step until I arrive. After placing my order for a cookie and a latte, I find a table in the corner and wait.

Sophie makes her way inside the coffee house a few minutes later. Her hazel eyes peek out from above her sunglasses.

“Hey, girl.” Her mouth parts into a huge smile, and she walks right up to me and sits down at the table I’m occupying.

“Hi.” She reaches her hand across the table, grabs the cookie sitting in front of me, and takes a bite.

“Anything I can get for you?”

“Nope, I’m good.” She smiles while batting her eyelashes at me.

“Yeah, I see that. Want my coffee, too?” She lets out a laugh, reclines her body in the chair, and sighs.

“This summer internship is killing me, Aria.”

“That sucks. So what’s going on there? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Let’s just say, my boss makes all other bosses seem like saints. She has me working crazy hours. Don’t get me wrong. It’s sick experience to be working for the hottest new designer out there. But fuck, Aria. I’m tired.”

“How did I get so lucky to be able to meet up with you?”

“Ahh, yes. London is out of the office for the rest of the day. She had a meeting over at
W
with the head of fashion accessories. I guess they are featuring her new crocodile line in next month’s issue.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Her red stained lips curve upward.

“I know, right.” Her excitement is cute. As much as she complains, she loves it.

We both grow quiet.

“Have you spoken to him?” Just the reference to Chase makes my stomach tighten.

“I hate him,” I say under my breath. But I don’t. Not really.

“You don’t hate him. You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not. Okay, fine. I’m being ridiculous. I don’t hate him.”

“Then you did speak to him?”

“No.”

“Ahh, I get it.” She nods.

“Get what?” I ask, and I let my eyes narrow.

“You. You’re doing your thing.” She takes another bite of my cookie and then sets it down in front of me.

“My thing?”

“You’re running away yet again. Doesn’t it ever get old?” My head starts to pound at her line of questioning.

“I’m not running. I’m just taking care of me.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“Listen. I went on that trip to find myself. I haven’t spoken to him because I need to understand who I am before I figure all of that out. I need to focus on me.”

“And now?

“I’m starting to.” Sophie nibbles on her lower lip, and her eyes squint as her gaze takes me in.

“Then why haven’t you spoken to him? I love you, Aria. And I only want you to be happy, but you need to stop being so stubborn. In order to be happy in your future, you need to make peace with your past. Regardless of what happens, you need to talk to him.

“I know, I just—”

“What’s this really about? Let me in. What are you so afraid of?

“I . . . I’m scared that I can’t trust him. I’m afraid that if I see him, he will lure me in again, and I’m terrified I’ll fall for it. But what I’m most frightened of is that it was all a lie, and I’m terrified to find out.”

“I can understand your fear, where you’re coming from, but you can’t live like that. You can’t let your life pass you by because you are too afraid to live it. You can’t turn a blind eye to something that could be truly miraculous. Every day is a gift. Everyone in your life is a blessing. You know that better than anyone. Treat each day like the gift it is, and don’t waste time because you’re too frightened to find out. Forgive Chase and forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Do you love Chase?” she finally asks.

“I don’t know.” My shoulders drop as I pull my lip into my mouth.

“It’s not a hard question. Do you love Chase?” I run my hands through my hair and tug gently.

“I’m not even sure I know what love is anymore,” I breathe.

“Love is finding the missing part of yourself in someone else. Like you found home.” My heart hammers at her words.

My eyes well up. “I think I found that in Chase,” I admit.

“Then what are you doing here with me?

“I know what you said before, but I still don’t know if I can trust him. He said he loved me, but what if that was a lie, too? God, I’m just so frustrated with everything.”

“So scream. Get all your crazy out.” She lets out a loud noise in the middle of the coffee shop and everyone turns to look at us. I’m not embarrassed, though. Instead, I shout until we both clutch our stomachs to calm our laughter.

“You think anyone will call the cops?” I peer around the room to see if anyone has reached for their phone. In this day and age, an outbreak like that is liable to land someone on the five o’clock news. We burst into another fit of giggles, and then Sophie stops and grows serious.

“Aria, seriously, man up and call him. Stop being blinded by your grief. He might have lied about a lot of things, but never about his feelings for you.”

“How do you know? You don’t even know Chase.” I squint at her.

“I know you haven’t spoken to him or seen him. But have you at least been keeping track? You know, like following?”

“Following where?”
What is she talking about?

“Instagram.”
Why would I follow his Instagram? I want to avoid him, not stalk him.

“No.”

“Are you serious? You don’t even know?”

“Know what?” I raise my hands at her, starting to get annoyed.

“It’s like global phenomenon,” she exclaims.

“What is? Oh my God, Sophie, just spit it out.
What’s
a global phenomenon?” I’m almost shaking from annoyance.
What the hell is she talking about?

“Chase Porter Photo.” I don’t understand what the big deal is.

“His pictures?”

“His latest collection is more than pictures. He started an Instagram campaign, and it went viral.” I stare at her and my eyes narrow.

“Aria, they are a living, breathing story.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain. All I can do is show you.”

She opens my laptop and logs in to the social media site. I’m shocked to see what pops up.

@ChasePorterPhoto

See the world come alive #ThroughHerEyes

Photos bridge the gaps when you don’t have the words to speak

I snap my computer closed. I can’t do this here. Not in front of all these people. I need to get home to see what he’s done.

I
FEEL LIKE A
voyeur. The images I’m staring at are all me. They’re so intimate, so real.

Chase saw all of me. Through his lens, he saw everything I tried to hide. It was right there for his discerning eye to capture. I see everything in the pictures, and his pictures see past my eyes, they see into my soul. I start from the beginning, scrolling all the way to the bottom of Chase’s Instagram page, this time carefully absorbing every detail. The first one is the view from the top of Giotto Scampanile. It must have been taken before he met me.

“During my journey I dream of conquering the unattainable”

The next few images are city views of Florence. I wonder when we will meet in this sequence of shots and then I see it. Our first ‘day’ together—the field of sunflowers. My gaze continues to scan image after image, and then I see it all through my own eyes, through his vision of what the world would be like from my perspective. I’m floored. All the
moments are there. Moments I had forgotten, but Chase had captured and preserved.
How did he do this?
Then it all comes back
.
The camera in the crook of my neck.
“Hold still while I take this shot.”
Some of the photos were taken from my point of view, others from his. They take my breath away. Each headline, each hashtag, sends more tears cascading down my already moistened cheeks.

The day my world stopped turning on its axis.

#ThroughHerEyes #Wish

An image of me in Rome. My hair wispy against the wind, and if you squint real close, my bunny ears.

Be stronger than your greatest fear

#ThroughHerEyes #Conquer

The journey up the mountain of Ponza.