Waiting for Sunshine

Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pirtle All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictional. Cover Design and Formatting by Kate | Kate Decided to Design | www.katedecidedtodesign.com Edited by Erica Rogers | Logophile Editing Services To those waiting for their storm to pass, this one is for you. CONTENTS 1. Shane 2. Shane 3. Max 4. Shane 5. Max 6. Shane 7. Max 8. Max 9. Shane 10. Max 11. Shane 12. Max 13. Shane 14. Shane 15. Max 16. Shane 17. Max 18. Shane 19. Max 20. Shane 21. Shane 22. Max 23. Shane 24. Max 25. Shane 26. Shane 27. Max 28. Shane 29. Max 30. Max 31. Max 32. Shane 33. Max 34. Shane Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author PLAYLIST listen on spotify how do you sleep - sam smith under your radar - miss fortune golden hour - jvke dirty thoughts - bonnie x clyde bad habits - ed sheeran potions - slander & said the sky rescue me - thirty seconds to mars it’s you - ali gatie lights down low - max silence - marshmello (ft. khalid) every time you leave - i prevail smile - juice wrld & the weeknd malibu nights - lany just pretend - bad omens please don’t go - joel adams you’re not alone - the broken view never stop (wedding version) - safetysuit CHAPTER 1 SHANE As the heartache of moving away from California settles in, I am reminded of the day I moved out here six years ago to attend art school at California College of the Arts. I was more than ready to get out of my hometown, leaving all the tragedy and horrible memories behind. Instead of experiencing joy and excitement for my new adventure, I was drowning in my sudden grief and heartache. I struggled during my first year away; keeping in close contact with my three best friends back home and pouring myself into my art, helped a lot. Life in San Francisco turned out to not be so bad. I met my boyfriend, Pete, during my senior year of college. I had been at the beach, painting the waves crashing up on shore and the beautiful sunset; taking in the calming scenery around me. I’ve had a deep connection with the ocean since moving here. The symbolism of the way the ocean waters can come and wipe the sand clean, giving it a fresh start resonates deeply with me. The waves acted as calming music to my ears as I watched beachgoers surf, run, sunbathe, and – stop directly in front of me. There stood Pete, in a freaking sweater vest and khakis on the beach, talking away on the phone, planted directly in front of where I had my canvas set up. I couldn't see any of my previous inspiration, and while I tried to be patient, thinking he was bound to move sometime, he did not. I finally piped up and let him know he was blocking my view. I hadn’t bothered hiding my look of annoyance when he looked over at me with a smug look saying, “Maybe I am the view.” I giggled like a schoolgirl at the remark that I now find extremely egotistical. We talked for a while before exchanging numbers, and the rest is history. We were dating within a week, and I moved in with him a couple of months later. In the same year, right before graduating college, I also landed a job working at an art gallery run by Hugh Burgess. I was lucky enough to nail the interview and land the job as an assistant curator. My dream has always been to have my own art hung in a studio someday, but this job was a great way to get my foot in the door. Every artist knows making good, connecting relationships is just as important as the art itself. I have worked there for about two years now, the same duration Pete and I have been dating. Things have been a little different between us lately, though. He has been working late nights at the accounting firm he works for, and I spend any spare time I have painting in one of the “creative spaces” as Hugh calls them, at The Gallery. Yes, the name of the art gallery I work at is called The Gallery. Because in Hugh’s mind, it’s the only one. I try to be intentional when Pete and I are both home, which is rare. I am always asking him if he wants to go out to dinner, or even take a night walk on the beach, but he always claims to be too tired and goes straight to sleep. In a last-ditch effort to revive our relationship, I decided to surprise him at work today for our two year anniversary and take him lunch from his favorite sushi place. Imagine how completely shocked I was when, instead, I caught him in the act of cheating on me with his secretary, Mandy. I hadn’t seen her at her desk outside, so I just walked in. So confident, big grin on my face, hopeful I would be able to mend whatever part of our relationship was still hanging by a thread. Ugh, how humiliating. He wasn’t just kind of cheating on me either, this was a full service, the door should have been locked, the relationship was over immediately, type of cheating. I decided in the heat of the moment to throw the sushi right at him. It probably wasn’t the most mature route, but I did feel a smidge