My heart contracts painfully, which is crazy, because it feels a bit like longing. And once again she’s managed to confuse me. To get under my skin and, I don’t know, set something off there.
I’d like to crack a joke, but my head is strangely empty. ‘And what does a better future look like for you?’
A loving expression spreads across her face. ‘I want to be able to help people for a very long time to come,’ she says. ‘To give them time to make their dreams come true.’
Dreams, the word echoes inside me.
My chest tightens.
I set the sandwich down on the plate and raise my brows in a prompting way. ‘I see, and what do you do when you’re not busy helping people?’
For a moment she looks downcast, then she tells me about yin yoga sessions and long walks. ‘My roommates June and Olive always make fun of me—the two of them seem to run a marathon every week—but I need it,’ she says, taking a bite of her salad.
I try to picture her strolling through a park. ‘Isn’t that boring?’
She quickly shakes her head. ‘It’s meditative, it helps me wind down.’
Absentmindedly, I take a bite of my sandwich. Wind down… Part of me is fascinated by how enthusiastic she is when she talks about it. As if it were a good thing.
‘And what do you do then, when you’ve reached the bottom?’ I hear myself ask.
‘Well, I prepare myself for all sorts of things that might come my way.’ Her fingers wander to her napkin. ‘I think about how I might react in different situations, decide what I want to do and what I don’t. Things like that.’
So in her mind she’s always far, far away, imagining scenarios—presumably in their worst possible version. Yes, that fits her.
‘That sounds exhausting,’ I say.
She feels for her wrist as if she were searching for something there. The bracelet, maybe, that she’s not allowed to wear on duty. ‘It’s necessary.’
‘What for?’ I ask.
Obviously, she doesn’t understand my confusion. ‘As I said earlier: for a better future.’
I would love to ask,and what if there isn’t one?, but I manage to hold back just in time. This is not a conversation we should be having.
‘And you?’ she asks now. ‘What plans do you have for your life?’
She’s asking the wrong question. She’s preoccupied with the wrong thoughts anyway, the wrong topics. ‘Look out the window.’
She frowns. ‘What does that have to do with your plans?’
‘Tell me what you see out there.’ I look at her expectantly.
She still seems flustered as she looks out through the window front. ‘The harbor.’
Oh, thank God, she’s going along with it. ‘Wrong. Try again.’
With a sigh, she lets her gaze wander. She may not even notice it, but I see her muscles relax. ‘The boats, the water, a few seagulls.’
‘Nope.’ Watching Nyla grow more and more confused but at the same time more and more curious is something I enjoy. ‘Still wrong.’
She lifts her shoulders and turns her head toward me. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
So she doesn’t turn back into that tense version of herself, I grin at her. ‘A good moment. That’s what you see.’
‘A… good moment?’ A thousand question marks dominate her expression.
Cute. Almost as cute as when she smiles.