My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1) - Page 18

I grab a sea urchin and place it under the microscope to examine it. While Ryan and I take turns looking at each sea creature, the woman tells us some fun facts about each one, how we can help the ocean and marine life, and how to donate. It’s cool getting to see all this. Because I still have a semester left of my prerequisites, I’ve yet to have any hands-on classes.

We spend the next few hours going from booth to booth, learning about the ocean and marine life. I even speak to a nice guy who has a degree in biology and is getting his PhD. He works in a lab, studying the effect human activity has on certain marine wildlife. With every booth we stop at, each person we speak to, I feel a little more like my old self. And by the time it’s time to go—because they’re shutting down—my adrenaline is pumping from excitement.

“That was fun,” Ryan says while we eat lunch at a small restaurant on the beach.

“It was.” I take a bite of my tuna salad (minus the tuna because I’m still traumatized from earlier). “I forgot how much I love learning about marine biology. The wildlife and water…”

“It’s your passion.”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “I’ve only taken one course in high school and an elective credit when I was in college.”

“I could see it in your eyes. The way they lit up over every detail and fact. When the guy was talking to us about the water, you were practically bouncing in place. Nobody gets that excited over the topic of saltwater unless it’s their passion.”

“Maybe,” I repeat with a laugh. “What’s your passion?” I ask, finding myself wanting to know more about Ryan. I’ve known him my entire life, but with our age difference, he graduated and moved when I was ten—only going to Breckenridge once when we were there. He was with his wife, but I didn’t really spend much time with them. Now he’s back—and divorced—and I feel like I don’t really know much about him.

“Growing up, I enjoyed robotics engineering. Learning the codes, inputting them, and building the robots. When I joined the military, I found I was good at applying those same types of skills to my job, so I got a degree in engineering.”

I shake my head in frustration. “I would’ve already graduated with my associate’s and been in San Diego working on my degree. Ian and I—” I cut myself off, refusing to finish my would’ve, could’ve. If I’m going to move forward, I have to think about what is, not what could’ve been.

“You can still do all that,” Ryan says, refusing to let me get lost in my thoughts. “You took a little detour, but you can still get back on track. No, it won’t be the same plan, but it’ll be your plan.”

We finish eating dinner, and then, after stopping by our spot on the beach and grabbing our stuff, we head back to the house. The walk is filled with comfortable silence, and once we’re back, we go our separate ways to shower. When I get out, I notice a missed call from my mom, so I call her back.

“Hey, sweet girl, how are you?”

“I’m good,” I tell her, and for the first time in a long time it’s the truth. My day out with Ryan has been really good for me. I not only thought of Ian less, but I didn’t cry once the entire day.

“What did you do today?”

“Is that your way of trying to find out where I am?”

“I can’t help but worry.” Mom sighs. “I know you’re twenty and free to come and go, but you’ve been holed up in your room for over a year, and then you disappear with nothing more than a note telling me I was right and you needed to get away. What if something happens to you? I wouldn’t even know where to look.”

The worry in my mom’s tone isn’t something I like to hear. It’s the same tone she’s been using since I lost Ian and, in turn, lost myself. I left to give everyone a break from worrying about me, and until she knows I’m safe, she’s going to keep worrying.

“I’m at the beach house, but please don’t tell Dad. He’ll have someone come check on me, and I’m okay. I promise. I went for a walk today to the pier, did a little fishing…”

“You fished?”

“It was horrible. I don’t recommend it.”

Mom laughs, and I find myself joining in. I’ve missed talking and laughing with her. “What else did you do?”

“There was a pop-up museum on the pier. An oceanarium. It was really cool. Did you know that less than five percent of the ocean has been explored?”

Mom laughs again, but this time it sounds weird, kind of watery. “I didn’t know that,” she says with a sniffle.

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