Dashing Through the No (Summersweet Island 3)

I just need advice from someone who won’t kick my ass and who isn’t obsessed with hearts and flowers and romance. And who better to give that advice than someone who knows Bodhi even better than I do?

And also because she’s the only one here right now, and it’s convenient during my breakdown portion of the evening, and I’d probably even word vomit all over Stalker Sheldon if he was here, sooo….

“Bodhi keeps asking me to marry him, and I keep telling him to fuck off, because I didn’t exactly have the best role models for marriage growing up, and I’m scared to death if I say yes, it will ruin how perfect everything is, and our life will turn into a shitshow of hating each other just like my parents, until we’re forgetting to pick our kid back up when we go to the store, and let’s not forget the shitshow of an actual wedding where I’d have to wear a hideous, poufy dress, with everyone looking at me and judging me and wanting to talk to me, and has everyone forgotten that Bodhi is a free spirit who never wants to stay in one place, so all of this is just crazy talk anyway?” I ramble in one breath before I lose my nerve, and also because I’m pretty confident Millie has a very short attention span.

Millie just smiles at me while she sips her tea for a few seconds, and I almost throw my mug right at her head. And then my eyes fill with tears, because that would be mean and totally uncalled for, and yep. I’m pretty sure this is it. This is Tiny Tim officially taking over to end things in a swift and efficient manner. Or, all of this proposal and wedding and marriage bullshit has finally pushed me over the edge, and I am now residing in Crazy Town on Batshit Road.

“Bodhi didn’t travel all over the world for twelve years because he was a free-spirited hippie who couldn’t settle down.” Millie laughs softly, setting her mug on the counter and folding her hands together to rest them next to it. “He traveled so much because he never found a place that gave him a reason to stay.”

My heart starts thumping faster, and I set my own mug down to press my hand against my chest to try to get it to slow down, while I lean all my weight on my other hand on the counter since my knees feel like giving out as she continues.

“You’re his reason to stay, Tess. And if you don’t want to turn out like your parents… then don’t.” She shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Right, so I’ll just snap my fingers, and it will magically happen. Okay, sure.” I laugh with a roll of my eyes, rubbing the heel of my hand harder against the weird ache in my chest that I’m thinking might be a heart attack.

“I’m pretty sure the fact that you’re freaking out and spending all this time worrying about becoming your parents just proves it will never happen. Do you think your parents spent one second freaking out that they were bad parents?”

The idea of that happening actually makes a giggle bubble out of me, and what she’s saying starts to actually penetrate my hardheaded skull as she keeps going.

“And correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re not exactly a passive person, right?” Millie asks. She doesn’t wait for me to reply as my skin breaks out in a cold sweat. “Let’s say you and Bodhi get hitched. Are you really the type of person who will sit back and let your life and your marriage turn into something you don’t want?”

I’m shaking my head right along with her, but my throat is so tight with emotion I can’t speak. Luckily, Millie does it for me.

“Hell no!” she shouts, slamming her fist against the counter and rattling our mugs. “You’re going to fight, and scream, and claw, and burn the fucking house down to get what you want. Your marriage is whatever you make of it, Tess. Because it’s yours, and no one else’s. It’s unique to just you and Bodhi, and only you and Bodhi will know what you want or how to make it work.”

She makes it sound so simple.

Because maybe it is. Maybe marriage doesn’t mean yelling, and hatred, and forgetting what’s important. Maybe mine and Bodhi’s marriage… perhaps… could mean a little bit more. Maybe all this time, I’ve been fighting in the wrong direction. I’ve been fighting so hard against becoming my parents and denying myself any kind of real happiness that I haven’t even given myself the chance to prove I am already nothing like them. And I never will be, because I am a fighter, and I will burn the fucking house down to get what I want.