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NOTHING TO STOP HER

T he Past

Friend: I’m so glad you broke up with your boyfriend. He reminded me of the Cookie Monster.

Me: He did? Because he had blue hair?

Friend: That probably helped. But it was his entire personality. Just like the Cookie Monster.

Or maybe Beavis and Butthead, but I’m not sure which is which.

Me: You didn’t say anything for the last 3 and a half years, but you’re telling me this now?

This is important information.

Friend: Well, I knew you wouldn’t have listened.

None of us do when we’re in it.

The Present

I’m on Zoom with my friend Stacey, sipping wine during our virtual happy hour. We live on opposite sides of the country, so it can be a little challenging to find times that work, but we make it happen when we can.

The glow from the screen feels warm and familiar, like we’re sitting across from each other in a bar, but without the background hum of conversation.

“Listen,” Stacey begins tentatively. “I didn’t want to say anything, but your ex seemed nice… It’s just?—.”

“Spit it out,” I urge her. “I won’t be offended, promise.” Besides, I’m pretty sure I know where this is headed.

She inhales deeply. “Okay, it’s just that you’re so outgoing , and he… wasn’t. It seemed like a weird pairing.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “It seems like everyone has been waiting for me to break up with him to share their thoughts.”

Ever since I broke up with John after a pretty stable six year relationship, everyone is coming out of the woodwork.

Wouldn’t it be more helpful for people to share their thoughts like this while you were still in the relationship?

But I guess my friend was right back in the day, when I broke up with my first serious boyfriend. I wouldn’t have listened.

When I divorced two of my three former husbands, they were the same way. Except for the second one—everyone loved him.

“True.” Stacey’s voice softens. “But I still think you did the right thing.”

“That sums it up,” I shrug. “He’s a great guy. But there wasn’t a romantic spark. We didn’t have sex for five years.”

She practically spits her drink out and starts coughing.

“Careful now, don’t choke,” I say, trying not to laugh.

She coughs some more. “ Five years? Like half a decade?”

“Yes,” I reply. “That’s the one.”

“Well shit,” she says. “My sweet friend, I’m getting way more action than you, and I’m single!”

I shake my head and laugh, but it feels bittersweet. “Yeah. There were great things about the relationship, but it just wasn’t romantic. He’s a good person. Just not my person, if that makes sense.”

“It totally does,” she agrees. “You can love and care for someone without being in love with them. And you two did seem like great companions. I always enjoyed seeing your travel pics.” She hums thoughtfully. “But you totally should get to feel desired. To feel adored without having to ask.”

“I was definitely missing that piece,” I nod, taking another sip of my wine. “We genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. I could count on him to pay his share of the bills. He was a generous person. Fun to travel with. But I want to feel like my partner is attracted to me. I feel like that’s important. It’s not everything, but it’s part of a healthy relationship for most people.”

“Well, again, I think you did the right thing, even though I know it was hard,” she says. “And I see big things for you. What a time to really think about what you want, without having to consider someone else.”

She’s so right. After years of planning everything with another person’s preferences in mind, I get to think selfishly. There are so many places I want to go, and so many things I’d like to do.

Luckily, I can do my job from anywhere in the country, so that leaves a huge amount of possibilities.

I have some more big decisions to make.

The next day, I call my friend Rebecca.

“You’ve definitely made the right decision, and I’m super proud of you,” she says. “Sometimes, when a relationship feels comfortable and safe, we don’t stop and really ask ourselves ‘is this my person?’ And then suddenly years and years have gone by and we realize we’ve been trapped in an unfulfilling relationship. But you’re taking the initiative to get out of it now, which will free you up to find your true person.”

Her words are deep, and they hit me square in the chest. She’s not just talking to me—she’s speaking from her own life. Her relationship is a tangle of resentments and compromises, and I know she’s projecting a little. But still, her words ring true.

I could have stayed in my comfort bubble for the rest of my life, and things would have been… okay. I would have paid my share of the bills and could trust him to do the same. I’d have a built-in travel buddy. We both like cats. We both like good food.

But the spark would always be missing.

“I just need to figure out where to go next,” I say. “I don’t want to stay here. Wherever I decide, I just need to get through the next few weeks of awkwardness until we can end the lease. Luckily, he's arranged to be away on a work project for most of that time. So it’s just me and my cat and his cat.”

“Ugh, breakups are so awkward when you’re living together. I understand.”

“Yes. So a few more weeks and then I guess the next chapter of Margaux can begin.”

“Seriously, though, Marg. This is a defining time for you that you may never have again and that not many people ever get,” she continues. “This is your time to be selfish. The gap will close, but right now? You’re untethered. You can literally look to the universe and go anywhere , do anything . Without having to worry about a partner, or kids, or any of that other stuff that tends to keep people stuck in one place.”

Her words send a thrill through me, like a jolt of electricity. I’ve been following other people’s plans for so long—his job, his preferences—that I’ve barely considered what I actually want. But now, suddenly, the whole world feels open, full of possibilities.

An idea starts to form. It’s something I’ve thought about for years but have never thought possible, at least not yet.

I’ve always wanted to live on a tropical beach. Specifically Sunset Cay, a tiny archipelago off the California coast. My parents used to take me there every summer, and those memories are some of the happiest of my life—lazy days on the sand, the smell of sunscreen and saltwater, beach walks, and nights filled with bonfires and laughter. Back when dad was still alive and my parents still cared for each other.

It was always a someday dream, one I shared with my mother. Something I thought I’d do when I was older, retired, maybe ten or so years from now. But now I’m thinking—what if someday could be now?

“I’ve been dreaming of moving to the beach for a long time now,” I say aloud, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. “What if I moved to Sunset Cay?”

Rebecca lets out a delighted squeal. “Yes! Do it! What’s stopping you?”

And just like that, a switch flips in my mind. Nothing is stopping me . I can do my corporate job from anywhere in the country, and I’ve been writing more on the side—I can continue to build out my backlist. This could be the beginning of something incredible.

We chat some more and then I hang up, and there’s a lot on my mind.

The more I think about it, the more I realize island life is what I want. Writing books on the beach, enjoying warm weather year-round. It’s my idea of pure bliss.

My heart beats faster as the idea takes hold. I open my laptop and start researching—housing options, pet-friendly rentals, how to get my cat, Sabre, through quarantine. He’s been across the world with me, and lived in multiple states, and he’s definitely coming with me on this next chapter. Sunset Cay’s unique ecosystem makes things a little more complicated—it’s why they have so many beautiful tropical fish and birds. So there’s an extra stepping stone to get him there. But that’s fine. I’m used to quarantine because New Zealand has always been the same way. Nothing I can’t handle.

Sabre, curled up beside me, lifts his head as I scratch behind his ears. “How do you feel about living at the beach, little buddy?” I ask with a grin.

He lets out a soft meow, brushing his ear forcefully against my hand, his purr rumbling like a tiny motor.

“Good boy,” I smile at him. “Let’s make this happen. ”

I feel lighter, like for the first time in years the weight of compromise and obligation has fallen away. It’s not just about escaping a relationship that didn’t fit. It’s about stepping into the life I’ve always dreamed of, one where I wake up every morning to the sound of the ocean, write my stories under the sun, go for sunrise and sunset surfs, and feel the warmth of freedom on my skin.

My dream life is within reach.

This is my chance. My reset button.

The beginning of the next chapter.

And I’m ready to dive in.