Page 31 of Masked Secrets
We walk slowly toward the water, arms wrapped around each other’s waists. There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now.
After a few steps, I ask, “How does your foot feel?”
“It’s ok. The warm sand feels good. Let’s move closer to the edge of the water. The sand will be firmer and make walking easier.”
Without thinking, I grab his hand as if we’re on a date, pulling him toward the foamy, blue tide.
He gives my hand a quick squeeze, and we jog to the water’s edge, laughing as if we don’t have a care in the world. We make quite the pair in our business attire. I don’t care though. I haven’t felt this free in ages. I’d forgotten the healing power of a sunny day by the water. It’s incredibly calming.
For the next half hour, we splash in the water, walk down the beach holding hands, and occasionally stop for me to pick up a shell. It’s pure heaven.
When the sun nears the horizon, I say, “Let’s find a dry spot on the sand and watch for the green flash.”
“What’s the green flash?”
“Occasionally, at sunset there’s a flash of green light just when the sun dips below the horizon. You can’t blink, or you’ll miss it.”
We walk away from the water, and sit on a flat, dry area of sand. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. Stuart follows suit as we silently stare at the horizon, waiting as the sun quickly begins to disappear.
He leans his head toward mine, asking, “How long do we need to wait?”
“Just keep staring and don’t blink.”
Less than two minute later, in unison, we say, “That’s it.”
We laugh. And Stuart remarks, “That was magnificent. I’ve never seen a green flash before.”
“It’s special, right? Some say that it brings good luck to those who see it.”
I leave out the version of the folklore that suggests those who see a green flash will have good luck in their love life. A chill runs through me at that thought, but I brush it off. The air cools down quickly at sunset, and I’m probably just cold.
Stuart notices me shiver and moves a little closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. My mind tells me to pull away, but I can’t make myself. His touch feels right, even though it shouldn’t.
“I bet you spend a lot of your time at the beach. The rainbow of colors filling the sky now is spectacular. It looks like a fine painting.”
I sigh with regret. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? I wish I could spend more time here, but that’s not possible.”
“Really. It’s sad you live so close to this and don’t have time to enjoy it.”
Staring at the ocean, I say, “Such is the life of a junior attorney. Well, if I’m honest, it may be the life of all successful lawyers. Sometimes I wonder why I signed up for this profession.”
“Why did you?”
I hesitate, letting my big toe trace random swirls in the sand as I gather my thoughts.
Finally, I reply, “I guess there are several reasons. The money’s good. The work is intellectually challenging. It’s rewarding to find solutions to tough problems. And the stories our clients share are often the stuff of movie plots. The downside is that it’s an all-consuming profession. Had I known ... Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. I was taught to finish what you start, and I will. Not making partner would mean I’ve wasted years of my life. I won’t let that happen.”
“You’re already a success. You haven’t wasted anything. It’s also okay to change your mind about what you want from life.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
He tilts my head with his free hand and leans in for a soft, reassuring kiss. Pulling back, he says, “Trust me. You’re allowed to reevaluate your original plans and make new ones. What would you do if you had a second chance to choose?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve lost part of me along this path. Sometimes it’s hard to remember who I was before.”
“What do you mean?”
“Prior to joining the law firm, my friends teased me for being so adventurous and such a risk-taker. But after a few mishaps that threatened my job, I vowed to follow all the rules and not take any chances. Now, it seems like I’m sacrificing too much for something I’m not even sure I want anymore.”
