Love, Redefined: A Contemporary Romance Novel (Love Lessons Book 1)
Page 11
Shelley looked intrigued, so I pressed on, grabbing a few wipes from a container she offered and started helping her clean up. “I got dumped, and now I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”
“What if it’s okay not to know?” she asked me as she straightened up some hand weights in the corner.
“Is this some yoga meditation guru lesson?” I asked suspiciously.
She burst out laughing, not the bell light laughter I had come to like so much, but a hearty laugh, one that showed me whatever I said, she found genuinely funny. “No,” she assured me. “Just that at different points in your life, you need to redefine who you are. What you want. Life changes, and it’s impossible - and I dare say irresponsible to yourself - to rely on old visions for your new future.”
With those simple words, a heavy weight seemed to lift off me. Maybe it was the yoga or hearing a stranger translate my life, but she seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. Really get into my head. Sensing this, she continued.
“One of the biggest mistakes people make is to believe that they should always remain who they are, that they have all the answers.”
“Did you ever make that mistake?” I couldn't imagine the serene Shelley concerned with anything but being.
She laughed that hearty laugh again. “Oh honey, you are describing my life for many years. I got divorced twenty-five years ago, almost twenty-six, and for several years after, I was so out of sorts I didn’t know which way was up.” She rolled her eyes. “And I certainly did not have enough money to go on an 'Eat, Pray, Love’ journey around the world, so I had to make do with ‘fast food, yoga, and movies.’ And back then, we didn’t even have Netflix to lose our night into! I would have killed for Netflix back then!” She chuckled at the memory.
“Wow,” I marveled at her confession. “You got divorced right around the same age that I got dumped.” Realizing I just put my foot massively in my mouth, I started apologizing furiously. Luckily, she found it more humorous than anything.
“Probably,” she said cheerfully, walking us to the door. We paused at the front desk. I noticed an incense burner, explaining why I smelled Frankincense floating through the air. “But don’t worry. You’ll reinvent yourself. Just like I did, like millions of women before us. And while you don’t believe it now, you’ll be better for it.”
“I’m working on that now,” I confessed. “Working on becoming more interesting. Into new things. Sassier and more fun. Redefine myself, if you will.”
“And that’s why you’re here?” She started shuffling papers on her desk, stacking them into a neat pile, but I could see the hint of laughter in her eyes all the same.
“Yep. Need to prove to some people, namely my ex Shane, that I’m worth it, and oh my God, my editor? Boston? I need to prove to him I’m doing this for me. He thinks I am playing it too safe…” I told her all about my conversation with Boston and how he had challenged me to try new things, which ended with me being here in her studio. Shelley was so easy to talk to that I got more than a little caught up in my story.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you must have to get going somewhere,” I started apologizing again. I took another deep breath of Frankincense to calm my nerves and started to wonder if I should get a candle with the scent or something.
“Katrina, honey, don’t apologize.” Hearing my full name from this older woman made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy, so I didn’t correct her. “I love hearing stories of growth. I want you to go out, learn new things, learn about yourself, and when the time is right, go after what you want. And tell me all about it along your journey. And if you’re confident at the end that it’s that man of yours you want, then that’s fantastic.”
“And if it’s not?” I couldn’t believe what just came out of my mouth. I mean, it wasn’t anything I even considered. Of course, I wanted Shane back. But the way Shelley posed her last sentence made the question unanswered, and I really wanted to hear her thoughts.
She shrugged as she locked the door behind us and headed toward the parking lot. “Oh, I think it is. I can see how Boston makes your heart smile. See you next week!”
Boston?
20
“Kat, may I speak to you?”
Kiara had just concluded her dreaded Monday morning meeting, and I was supposed to meet Boston for a coffee - or, in my case, hot chocolate - at the Starbucks downstairs. But it was not like I could say no to my boss, especially one who lacked a complete sense and understanding of a personal life.
“Yes, sure, of course,” I blabbed, trying to quickly text Boston to tell him I’d be late meeting him as I trailed behind Kiara. Being in her presence unnerved me for some reason, even when I did well in the meeting. Today I even managed to pitch what I thought was another great article idea, about unusual activities to do in the city. I had run across several in my research for fun hobbies, including a three-story escape room and a diorama of wolves at a local museum.
Boston: Good luck. You’ll need it.