Page 85 of Love Unwritten
While Nico and Ellie have dinner at one of the resort restaurants without me, misery keeps me company as I evaluate the decisions that led me to this point. Hillary will continue finding new ways to piss me off and ask for more money, so it is up to me to learn how to stop caring.
If I don’t, I’ll keep disappointing those closest to me.
My son. Myself. Ellie.
I’ve worked so hard to create the life I have. I spent my twenties trying and failing to acquire the wealth and security I have now, and what do I have to show for it? Sure, I can afford a fancy hotel and anything my son desires, but what good is any of it if he doesn’t want to enjoy it with me?
When I wake up the next morning, I’m not surprised to receive the silent treatment from my son. It hurts to be rejected after we had a good first day here, but surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me as much as Ellie’s silence during our hike to Manoa Falls.
Nico is easy to spot from a distance with his colorful swimsuit and hiking shoes while Ellie blends into the tree line with her dark leggings and athletic T-shirt. She keeps close to my son and helps him a few times when he stumbles due to his vision difficulties, all while I walk behind them in case they need me.
Nico is independent to a fault, but he can’t hide how he struggles at times to keep up with us given the low visibility during parts of the hike and the general newness of the trail.
When I catch him stumbling for the third time, an uncomfortable tightness in my chest returns, and I take a few deep breaths and focus on what is within my control.
He is okay.
Ellie has him.
He will only get upset if you try to single him out for being different, I remind myself like a mantra.
We finally make it to the waterfall, and Nico squeals as he rushes toward the water.
“No swimming!” Ellie shouts.
Nico glares over his shoulder. “I heard you the first ten times.”
Ellie laughs, only to swallow the sound when I stop beside her. Outside of asking me a few basic questions about the trail, she’s been pretending I don’t exist. It triggers the old me who hated making other people unhappy, although I’m self-aware enough to know it doesn’t come from an unhealthy place this time.
It stems from my shame at lashing out the way I did and letting her down.
Nico begins chatting with another kid whose family started the hike fifteen minutes before us, sharing all the facts he knows about the waterfall and its famous filming history.
“I don’t know how he does it,” I say to break the silence.
She stiffens at the sound of my voice. “What?”
“He can talk to anyone so easily.”
“Must have picked it up from his aunt or someone likable.” Her eyes flicker over me before shifting back to Nico.
“Listen—”
She gestures toward my son, who is standing thirty feet away. “Is now the best time?”
“Seeing as he is occupied making a new friend and I don’t want to spend the rest of my day in awkward silence, yeah.”
“What’s the point?”
“I have a few things I want to get off my chest.”
She cuts into me with a disinterested look. “I think you said plenty yesterday. Don’t you?”
“I should have never said what I did.”
Her jaw tightens.
I take a deep breath. “I’m ashamed of letting my emotions get to me like that.” My gaze lands on the water crashing against the surface of the small pond. “I don’t know what to do.” My next breath comes out shaky. “Every time I think I’m taking a step in the right direction—that maybe I can finally be happy for a change—something happens that ends up dragging me back into that same dark place.”