Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“It has been,” I say, but we’ve kept in touch. I’ve texted, sending them ideas for our champagne line, like We All Hated Him Anyway, and suggestions on new holidays for Dev, like National Arugula Day, and videos for Ledger like “How to charm your cat and other impossible tasks.”
But I’m not counting down to our date next year.
Really, what Elena and I have worked on is why I felt compelled to marry someone I didn’t really love because I thought it would make someone else happy.
That someone else isn’t here anymore.
And it’s been thirty days since I started to let go of the idea that I should keep trying to make him happy—especially when it’s not what I want.
I swallow past the guilt and the shame. “I think I should say something to my mom.”
Elena’s smile is pleased, proud even. “That’s your countdown?”
I let out a big breath. “Yes. I think that’s what I’ve been working through with you. And I needed to really understand what to say to her, and what not to say. I don’t think she needs to know all the burdens she and my dad placed on me, whether inadvertently or not.”
Elena shakes her head. “Probably not. That’s lovely of you to think of her emotional health.”
“She misses her husband still. I don’t want to say this fucked me up when I was younger.”
Elena nods, tucking a strand of silvery hair behind her ear. “That’s a gift, in a way—to know what needs to be said and what needs to be left unsaid.”
I let those words sink in. “I wish I’d figured it out sooner. I feel like I’ve spent way too long trying to figure it out.”
Her smile is sympathetic. “Generally, it takes a lifetime,” she says.
When I leave, I head to my mom’s salon in Petaluma.
Before she gives me a trim, we head to the break room in the back of the salon and pore over some new looks and styles in her look books, debating our favorites. But a few minutes of discussing beach waves and layered cuts, and I know it’s time to cut to the chase.
“You’d look pretty like that. Or that. Or that,” she says, flipping from page to page.
My stomach’s flipping with nerves. I shut the book. “Mom,” I say with some gravitas.
“Yes?” She sounds nervous.
“I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes flash with worry. “Are you okay? Are you sick? What’s going on?”
I squeeze her arm. “I’m fine,” I say.
“Are you sure? Is it about the gifts? I returned them all,” she says.
The wedding seems like a lifetime ago. I’ve learned so much in the last six weeks.
“I know, and I’m grateful for that. But this is about why I thought I should marry Aiden in the first place,” I say.
“Oh.” She fiddles with her wedding band. She hasn’t taken it off.
A stone lodges in my heart. This will be harder to say than I’d thought. “I wanted to make Dad happy. I wanted to make you happy,” I add, but I fear I said that badly. I don’t want to blame her.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s my fault,” I say, trying to correct. “I made the choice. I thought it was the right one. I thought I was doing the right thing since Dad was friends with Aiden’s dad, and he had this idea that Aiden was perfect for me, and you did as well.”
“I did,” she says, sounding horror-struck. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I did it. I should have said something sooner. I should have said he wasn’t for me. I didn’t, and that’s mine to own. But I want you to know that I’m not going to try to live my life for someone else anymore. I’m going to live it for me,” I say, my throat tightening.
“Oh, sweetheart. That’s all I’ve wanted. I’m so sorry you felt otherwise. I only ever wanted you to be happy. I didn’t realize I was pressuring you.”
A lump pushes past all that tightness, and everything hurts, but it’s a good hurt, the kind that needs to come out. “It’s okay. I wanted you two to be happy,” I say.
She sighs but offers a resigned smile. “I’m learning how to be happy again. Just promise me you won’t walk down the aisle unless you’re in wild, mad, incredible love. I was with your dad, and even when it was hard, even when we fought to stay together, even when I was afraid we wouldn’t make it, it was worth it. Every single day.”
A tear slips down one cheek, then another. “I think I needed to hear that,” I say. Then I rip off the Band-Aid a little more. What the hell, right? “What would you think if I cared about two men at once?”
She blinks, takes a moment, then lets it register. “Well, isn’t that just totally in right now, what with your friends and all?”