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big city dreams ii.
* writer's note: hi friends, thanks for following this journey with me. i think this is where i'll end this series (for now) untl i get my life together enough to maybe plan an event? not sure lol. but anyway, if you haven't read parts one and two, please feel free to do so here to catch up. ok thnks ily bye! oh, and thanks to Miri's writer for allowing me to mention her, 🖤.
Varying shades of green covered the walls, breathing life back into the once vacant and empty building. I almost didn’t recognize the place, and probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been the one renovating it; in a way, I was grateful to have had the time to myself to restore it just the way Fergal and I had planned on in the past — but the tiniest part of me hated that I had to do it alone . . .
A sigh exhales from parted, chapped lips as my hand reaches up to wipe the sweat – and paint – from my brow as I admired the work in front of me. A freshly painted logo surrounded by flowers adorned the wall farthest from the entrance; for not painting in years, I was proud of the creation. It wasn’t perfect by any means, small drops of paint running down the wall from where I gobbed on too much product, but to me, it was everything. A sign of hope. A new beginning. A chance to see if I had what it takes to fill my husband’s shoes . . . I doubted myself daily, especially with the last one, but I knew that I’d be making him proud, and that was really all I could ask for.
In a way, I was grateful for his absence . . . it allowed me to grow. To become a stronger woman as I faced my deepest fears head first. It was terrifying, and I hated every moment of it, but knowing I could survive without him here, and knowing I could take care of two kids on my own without feeling like a failure, made it worth it.
And maybe it was stupid of me to hope for his return, so he could see all of the things I’ve accomplished while he was away, but ever since the day he left, I knew our journey wasn’t over.
Dipping the paint brush back into the opened can of paint at my feet, I stand straight and allow myself to stretch, the exhaustion of renovating hitting all at once. I still had so much to do before the opening a month from now, but I was too sleepy to want to finish it tonight.
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“I have something I want to show you,” I mentioned to my best friend Miri, though she didn’t have much of a choice – I had taken her hostage for the day, as a way to clear my head and get out of the house. I had promised her tequila and tacos, and that was still on the agenda for the day, but this felt like an important pit-stop on the way.
“Okay . . . You’re not pregnant, are you?” She asks, and I can’t help but laugh.
“No,” I say, shaking my head as I pull the car to the backlot of the building. “That would require me to have sex,” I tease as I put it in park and unbuckle my seatbelt.
She scrunches her face in a way that mimics that of a child saying ‘gross’, and laughs before peeking around my shoulder. “An abandoned building?” Her brow quirks up, and I follow her gaze to the outside of the restaurant.
“I know it looks bad on the outside but… Just trust me!” A dash of excitement ends the sentence as she unbuckles her seatbelt, amusement hidden on her face as we head to the back door. “Okay so . . . This was going to be a surprise, but . . .” I turned the key into the doorknob, the smell of fresh paint smacking my senses as we stepped inside. “Ferg and I had plans to turn this into a restaurant . . . It’s just been sitting here for months, and since I was paying the rent on it, I decided to fix it up . . .” I watch as she wanders around slowly, slow panic setting in my belly – as much as I loved it here, I knew it wouldn’t be everyone else’s cup of tea, and the fear of judgment sat heavy on my shoulders. “I know it’s kinda stupid, to still hold on but . . . I guess part of me did it so if he shows up again, he can see that I didn’t forget about him . . .” It was a confession I hadn’t admitted out loud to others but I trusted Miri, and knew that if anyone understood, she would. Her husband was away a lot with work, and sometimes it was nice to have someone that related – though our struggles were different, she still understood the sadness I felt.
“Babes,” she says softly, taking in her surroundings before stopping at the freshly painted logo. “I love it, HE will love it. Did you do this yourself?”
“Mhmm,” I say as I take a step forward to join her, admiring the way the sun hit the letters on the wall. “This morning . . . I plan on opening in a month, maybe two. You’re the only person that knows about it aside from Lilah and Apollo, but they don’t count,” I laugh.
A smile graced her lips as she adjusted her gaze my way, an arm wrapping around my shoulders as she pulled me in for a hug. “I’m proud of you, Len.”
My panic subsides, and I feel myself relax, a shaky breath exhaled. For the first time in a long time, I smile, too. “Thanks . . . I’m proud of myself, too.”
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