Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I take another drink before I respond. “I told him that we need to take some time to think about things.”
She furrows her brow.
“This is just all really fast,” I say.
“No, it’s not. It’s taken too many years to make this happen.”
I laugh. “True. But what if he gets home, takes a shower, and realizes that he really just wanted to have sex with me, and I don’t really have the potential for being a part of his future?”
My insides twist at the thought of Ripley not wanting to see me again. It’s almost funny. Twenty-four hours ago, the idea of being a part of Ripley’s life would’ve seemed deplorable. Now, not being in it seems unbelievable.
“I’m not saying that to mean I think we’re getting married or something,” I say. “I just mean that I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
She smiles sadly. “I know where this is coming from.”
“No, you don’t.” Except, she does.
“You’re the one that said you wanted to put your hopes into actionable items,” she says. “This, my friend, is actionable.”
Maybe.
“Did you ever set intentions for your life like I told you to?” she asks.
“No.”
“I figured, so I set them for you.”
“Can you do that?” I laugh.
She shrugs. “I don’t know for certain. But I did it anyway and this is happening for you. You got a job. Ripley. My intentions for your life are coming true.”
“You manifested Ripley for me?”
“Eh, no. Not necessarily. Kind of.” She winces. “I manifested a great guy—someone loyal, honest, funny, handsome, kind, protective, and hardworking.”
So, yeah, you did manifest him.
I flop back on the sofa and think about all the new things I know about Ripley. All the ways he’s cared silently for me over the years. The way he loves his puppy. How he hides his pain under a charming smile and doesn’t expect anyone to see beyond it.
The sad part about that is that I’m not sure that many do see beyond his exterior.
But now, I do. Thank God for that.
“So you’re now giving him time to decide he’s not into you?” Sutton asks. “That’s the most Georgia thing I’ve ever heard.”
I roll my eyes.
“But you’re into him, right?” she asks, curiously.
“Yeah. I’m into him.” I get to my feet and pace my living room. “I can’t explain this, and it’s going to sound … ridiculous, probably. But I finally feel like I can go forward now. There’s a way forward for me that makes sense. I’ve been just paddling along, directionless, you know? Now there’s this peace, I guess. Like I don’t have any decisions to make.” I look at her and smile. “It’s like I can rest now.”
Her smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me, too.” My smile fades. “I just have to figure out how to tell my mom.”
Sutton and I exchange a look, and I sit back down.
I stare at the dark television screen and sigh. “I don’t know how to tell her.”
“I know this is a thorny topic for her.”
“You think?” I snort. “It’s the only thing she’s ever asked of me. Do not date a Brewer.” I lie back against the cushions, my heart sinking. “She’s never going to go for this.”
Sutton rests her hand on my thigh. “You don’t know that.”
“Oh, I kind of do. And she’s literally the only family I have. I don’t want to lose that, do you know what I mean?”
“She’s your mom, Georgia. She loves you more than anything in the world. Sure, she might’ve had a bad experience with Ripley’s dad, and she might’ve talked shit about it. But when it comes down to her daughter being happy with a really good man, she’ll be supportive.”
I look at her. “Do you even know Felicity Hayes?”
She smiles sadly.
“I wish I could compartmentalize my life,” I say. “Deal with my mom in this box, and the rest of my life in another one.”
“That’s called having boundaries, and yes, you should do that.”
I frown, knowing she’s right.
I have such a hard time drawing boundaries with Mom. At the moment of my life when I should’ve been doing that—creating the framework for our relationship as adults—she was going through the most traumatic part of her life. She lost my dad, then lost Reid Brewer, and then whatever else she’s gone through quietly. And instead of putting up boundaries, I became her therapist.
When she was depressed in bed, I brought her ice cream. I paid the bills. I did her laundry, washed her sheets, and let her cry on my shoulder while trying to motivate her to keep going.
Everyone needs a friend sometimes, and I was hers. We’ve just never gotten past that.
My phone rings and I snatch it up, hoping it’s Ripley. Instead, it’s Mom’s name that flashes on the screen.