Chapter 8
A month later, Archer, who had picked me up from the airport, told me I had
changed. He said that when we first met, he thought I was just a dull, emotionally wounded woman. He hadn’t realized how lively and charming I actually was. Maybe people here were just more generous with their compliments, but after spending so much time here, I really did feel more confident.
There’s so much sunshine here, and the proximity to the sea has changed me. I find myself enjoying outdoor activities more than I did back in Washington. Every evening after work, I often go for drinks with my studio colleagues at the beach bar. I feel the sea breeze, stroll along the beach at sunset, and on weekends, I swim in the sea or sunbathe on the shore. My skin has taken on a healthy, sun–kissed glow, and my body feels more toned. I even made a bet with my friends–if I lost, I’d dye my
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Chapter 8
hair. So now, I have highlights. The sea breeze makes my hair dry and slightly wild, falling in random strands around my face. I’ve adopted a whole new sense of freedom.
In the evenings, just like before, my studio friends and I have barbecues by the beach. We were talking about a recent art acquisition when someone suddenly pointed out that someone seemed to be looking for me in the distance.
“Lily, I finally found you!” It was Daniel.
I turned, and through the soft glow of the sunset, I slowly recognized him. Perhaps it was the long journey, or perhaps it was because I had grown used to the vibrant, energetic smiles of people here, but Daniel looked particularly worn out.
“I finally found you. I checked the flights, your parents‘ company, and asked around…” he trailed off.
“Yeah, long time no see,” I cut him off.
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I greeted my friends and told them I had a visitor from Washington and needed to step away for a bit. They immediately started teasing me, insisting I finish my drink before I could leave. I raised an eyebrow, prepared to down it in one go, but just as I was about to, Daniel rushed over, grabbed the glass from my hand, and said, “Don’t you know how to drink? I’ll do it for you.”
He took a few gulps before choking. The irony wasn’t lost on me–he was the one who didn’t know how to drink. With a sigh, I grabbed the glass from him while he coughed.
I drank it all at once. My friends cheered, and I joined in their laughter for a moment before turning back to Daniel, who was awkwardly standing off to the side, fidgeting with his hands and feet, clearly unsure of what to do.
“We’ve been together for so many years, don’t you know I can drink a lot?” I said,
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rolling my eyes.
Daniel’s voice was soft, almost apologetic.
“I didn’t really know, because you don’t drink normally.”
His explanation made me chuckle to myself. Daniel had quit drinking because of Abigail. He once told me that Abigail didn’t like drunks, didn’t want him drinking at all. So since we‘ d met, he hadn’t touched a drop. I, on the other hand, had never been much of a drinker, but in the business world, it was a different story. People always tried to play the game of drinking and forcing others to join in. Whenever we went out for business.
meetings, Daniel would always sit out, and I’d end up taking over. I thought back to the times I’d gotten drunk and my colleagues had to drag me back, how
Daniel had always looked at me with disgust. Later, when I drank too much, I‘ d purposely sleep in the guest room to avoid him, scrubbing the alcohol smell off my skin before seeing him.
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It made sense now. No wonder he never knew. No wonder he thought I didn‘ t drink much.
“Daniel, you don‘ t know me at all,” I said, looking at him.
“I can actually drink a lot.”
He looked at me, still unsure. “Sorry, is it the same as Abigail, that
Abigail, that you can’t stand it?”
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