“No matter what? What about your ex? He cheated on you. You think you should have stayed with him despite that? Huh? Pressed through the tough times and forgiven him?”
Everly lifted her hands, unsure what to do with them, and then crossed them tightly across her chest. “That’s different. We weren’t married.”
“Fuck, Everly. Neither are we. I just said I had feelings for you, and somehow that’s led to you not only judging me for mistakes I made when I was twenty-one goddamned years old but also deciding I’m not fit for long-term boyfriend material. People get married. They get divorced. The world isn’t black and white. Bad things happen. Hard decisions get made. You don’t get to make decisions about who I am based on one thing from my past. Any more than I should do that to you. Look at who I am now. That’s all I’m asking you to do. Look at me. Right now.”
His voice was rough. Tears filled Everly’s eyes. She blinked them away, swiping at the few that escaped.
“I want to get married one day. I’m tired of playing around, wasting time. I want someone who won’t give up. Who won’t give in. I’m not exactly low maintenance,” she said, her voice breaking. He reached for her, but she stepped back. “I can’t fall for someone who will run when things get hard.”
Chris’s eyes widened as they filled with hurt. She immediately regretted her words, not just because of how they clearly impacted him but also because he’d never given her a reason to doubt him. She, of all people, should know better than to judge a person based on one thing. Would she want to be seen only for her anxiety? There was so much more to her than that one thing. This man, standing in front of her like she’d wrecked him, had believed in, trusted, lifted her. He made her laugh, think, and want to try harder. He made her wonder what it would be like to fall in love without a safety net. He made her want that. He saw her as she really was—anxiety and all. She was throwing that away because she couldn’t stand the uncertainty. Tears clogged her throat.
Chris cleared his throat. Stepping toward her with more compassion shining in his gaze than she deserved. “I just want to point out that all this time, I’ve been fighting what I feel for you. Every bump that’s come along with getting closer to you, getting to know you and be your friend? It hasn’t been me running, Everly. Not once. It’s been you, every time.”
Something—desperation or panic—clawed at her, making her lungs fail. She gasped for breath and let out a sob.
Chris reached for her but dropped his hand when she shook her head rapidly. “There are no guarantees in life, Everly. That doesn’t mean you can’t trust what I feel is real. That it could, that it would, last.”
He left. Everly went to the door and locked it, smacked her hand against the hard wood, then lowered her forehead to it, not fighting the tears that fell. Angry at herself, at him, at her parents, at how much she wanted to go after Chris and how much she wanted to disappear and pretend they hadn’t met, she let herself cry, muffling her sobs in her hands as she sank down to the floor.
[34]
Everly did something she’d never done before. Ever. She called in sick two days in a row when she wasn’t sick. Her date with Owen was tonight. Though she still felt some lingering guilt, she’d had a quick lunch date with Jon, more to tell him that she’d made her choice than because she was torn between the two bachelors. Nope. That’s not what she was torn about. If she barreled forward, didn’t give herself time to think—or overthink, as was her norm—she felt good. Buoyed. One foot in front of the other, she was taking charge of getting what she wanted out of life.
After Chris left the other night, after she’d pulled herself up from the floor, dusted herself off, and put her overwrought feelings on a shelf, things had been clearer. She’d known what she needed to do.
The past few days, before she’d straightened herself out, were mired in a Chris-haze. Sure, his words woke her up at night once she’d managed to fall asleep. That gave her the perfect motivation to paint her bedroom pale blue, staying awake until she’d all but crashed into the tray of paint. Wednesday morning, she put on a brave face before heading into work, surprised at the relief she felt when it turned out that Chris wasn’t there. She’d slipped out of work, telling Stacey what she was up to as she ran out the door. By the end of the evening, her life was going to be in perfect order, and she’d finally be able to breathe.
Everly drove to one of her favorite restaurants, keeping her brain busy by singing along, badly, to a song she liked. When she arrived, the parking lot was nearly empty. The lunch rush crowd would have finished up earlier. She spotted her mother’s car and went into the restaurant, squeezing her hands into fists.
Her mom waited in the lobby. They embraced and then turned to reply to the hostess who’d greeted them.
“Two?” the woman asked.
The door opened behind them, and Everly glanced over her shoulder, her stomach and heart colliding into each other. She looked back at the hostess. “Three.”
“What?” Her mother turned and saw her father and stiffened at her side. “Everly.”
“What’s going on?” her dad asked, staring at his wife. Everly noticed the spark of longing in his gaze, giving her hope that her plan wouldn’t push both of them away from her. It was a chance she needed to take. Ha. See? I can totally take risks without knowing the outcome.
“We’re having lunch,” Everly said, her voice rigid as she gestured to the hostess, who was waiting to lead them to a table.
They settled around the table, all of them flashing fake smiles until the hostess left, promising the waitress would be right with them.
“What are you doing, Everly?” Her mother leaned in, over her opened menu.
“You have some nerve, sweetheart,” her father said, crossing his arms over his chest, stretching the shoulders of his dark suit.
“It might seem like that but really, I’m just doing something either of you would do, and have done, without a second thought. I’ll explain everything after we order. I need to speak to both of you and didn’t want to do it separately.”
Her mother’s expression morphed into worry. She reached out to hold Everly’s hand. “Are you okay? Is it something bad?”
Everly swallowed. “No. Just something I need to tell you guys.”
The tension was thicker than the ten-page menu as they smiled through the waitress’s greeting. The second she brought their drinks and left, both her parents turned and focused on Everly.
“What’s going on? Are you all right?” Her father folded his hands on the table. They might be divided on many things, but they’d never wavered in their love for her. She loved them back just as fiercely, but if she didn’t take this step, she’d resent them.
Everly took a deep breath and let it out. She put her hands on her lap, tapping her fingers on her thighs, focused on the movement and light touch as her heart rate settled.
“I’m okay. I didn’t mean to scare either of you, but I have something I need to tell you, and I need you to listen to me and respect what I’m about to say.”
Her mom’s lip wobbled, and she reached out to take her husband’s hand. He took it without hesitation, saying, “We’re here, and we’re listening, sweet girl.”
They were so weird. Maybe Everly hadn’t been married or even truly in love, but she hoped that if she ever found the one, she wouldn’t do what her parents did to each other. To her. She’d admitted the full force of their damage to herself the other night, realizing this was the starting point of her having what she wanted.
No more delays. “Your marriage is your business just like my life is my own. We might not agree with each other on everything, but how you choose to love is entirely up to you. My whole life, I’ve accepted the dichotomy of your marriage as normal. I’ve let myself believe it didn’t impact me in any way other than that I wanted to avoid something similar.” She inhaled, forcing herself to continue. “I told myself I wasn’t impacted by what you do to each other, but I was wrong. Who you are with each
other—in good times and bad—has shaped who I am. It’s clouded my ideas of what I want, or don’t want, for myself. I’ve been so mad at you both so many times over the years. Now that I’m older, I realize I only have control over me. My life. How you guys choose to be married is up to you, but how I let it affect me isn’t. I asked you both to come here today to tell you that I won’t do this anymore.” Her lungs all but collapsed, and air whooshed out. Her shoulders sagged. There. She’d said her piece. Just like she’d practiced.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Her father’s voice carried through the empty restaurant.
“What won’t you do anymore?” her mother asked, pulling her hand out of her husband’s.
Everly waved a hand in their direction. “This back-and-forth you two do? I won’t be part of it anymore. I’d love to be able to tell you to decide one way or the other—be all in or all out, whatever makes you truly happy, but it’s not my place. As your daughter, the person whose emotions have been yanked back and forth like a yo-yo since I was seven years old, I’m saying no more. You don’t get to drag me into it.” She held up a hand when they started to speak. “Let me finish. Watching you act like newlyweds one day and then enemies the next has taken more of a toll on me than I wanted to admit. Unknowingly, I’ve let your relationship influence my own beliefs. If you two get divorced, I hope you both find love again. You are both amazing people. You both deserve happiness. I was positive that I just wanted you guys to stay together. You made vows, promised to get through anything. But I’m not seven anymore. I’m not naïve. I know now that it doesn’t always work out like you want. Sometimes, how you want to feel just isn’t the way you do. There’s no right or wrong. What works for you won’t ever work for me in a relationship. Of that much, I’m sure. Whether you stay apart this time or not, there’s no more texting me and calling me to fill in the gaps of loneliness you feel because you’re missing each other. When you’re together, you get so wrapped up in the renewed newness that you forget I exist sometimes. This pendulum you swing wrecks me.”
She paused and took a long drink of her water. Her mother’s eyes were brimming with tears, and her father slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.
Everly swallowed down her tears with the drink. “I’m asking you not to put me in the middle. Call me on a regular basis and check in regardless of your relationship status. I promise to do better in that regard, too. When I say I promise, I mean it. I’ve cut you guys out of a lot of things because I can’t handle the stress of not knowing from one day to the next whether you’ll be together or apart.”
The waitress came, seemed to sense the mood, and didn’t make small talk while she set down sandwiches and fries. She asked if they wanted top-ups of their drinks, then scurried off.
“I had no idea these things weighed so heavily on you,” her mother said, unwrapping her fork and knife from the napkin roll.
“Because I haven’t told you. I make jokes or blow it off or go with whatever the status quo is. I don’t think I even knew how much it’s been hurting me. I plan on being more open. Or trying to be, at least. While we’re on the topic of what needs to change, I don’t like birthday celebrations. I don’t like big get-togethers, especially surprise ones. I hate surprises. They make me uncomfortable. I don’t want to pretend anymore. You’re both so social. I envy that sometimes, but it’s not who I am. I need you to respect that and never again, for as long as you both shall live, ever give me a piñata or condoms.”
Laughter burst from her father. “I told you she was still mad.”
Her mom tipped her head back to look at him. “You did. I don’t always listen.” She looked back at Everly. “It’s not as cut-and-dried as do we or don’t we. We love each other, and no matter what happens, we always will. One thing that never changes, though—we love you more than anything.”
Her father nodded, took a bite of his sandwich.
“I know,” Everly said, cutting her sandwich into smaller triangles. “I love you back. I’ll always be here when you guys need me. It just can’t be to fill the void. I can’t be your best friend when you need to gossip about what Dad did this time. Dad, I can’t be your go-to dinner date at a moment’s notice when you’re apart.”
He nodded, his eyes suspiciously bright. He looked at his wife, making Everly wonder what he was thinking. When he looked back at his daughter, he smiled. “For your next birthday, maybe we could just have one of those cakes you like from your friend’s bakery.”
She smiled back. “That sounds good.”
Her mom huffed out a breath, straightening her shoulders. “Maybe I should take up baking.”
After a second of silence, all three of them laughed. The tension lifted. Everly told them about Owen, pushing all her other worries aside. She didn’t need them to sort everything out right now. She just needed to say her piece and have them hear her so she could move on to the next item on her list.
* * *
Lunch with her parents, even though it ended well, relieving her of a years’ old burden, took a lot out of Everly emotionally. To give herself a bit of extra time, she’d texted Owen to let him know she’d be a little late, telling herself it was fine. It’s okay to say what you need. If someone wants to be with you, they’ll accept it.
Though nerves covered her like an extra sweater as she walked into the restaurant, she didn’t second-guess herself. In the past several weeks, she’d stepped up in her own life. This was just one more step. Not a leap, but those left a person with broken ankles. Her feet were firmly planted. Steady.
She wasn’t running. Owen was a good man. Good-looking, successful, sweet, and funny. We have a good foundation.
“Hey,” he said from behind her.
Everly whirled to face him, her breath catching when she saw the single pink rose in his hand. Her eyes locked on it, then wandered up to meet his gaze.
He shrugged, a charming half smile curving his mouth. “It seemed fitting. You know, like that Bachelor show?”
She laughed, nodding. “It’s beautiful.”
“So are you,” he said. When he handed her the rose, he leaned down, brushing his lips across her cheek. Just a whisper of a touch.
Everly’s lips trembled.
“Your table is ready,” the host said.
Owen put a hand to her back as they wove their way behind the host. They slid into the booth on opposite sides of each other. Everly reminded herself to breathe. Open mind. Look at him. He’s so cute. Easy to read. Easy to be with. He wore a dark gray golf shirt and a pair of Levi’s. Who didn’t love a man in Levi’s? No one. That’s who.
She set the rose down on the table. “I thought I’d be more nervous. I don’t want to be at all, but I am. Just a bit.” Here comes the babble.
Owen laughed, the sound light and fun yet still masculine. Little lines gathered at the corners of his eyes when his smile was at full blast. It was a good smile. “It’s okay to be nervous. We can’t control everything.” He reached across the table and took her hand. She didn’t pull back. Her hand fit inside of his. It was … comforting. Comfortable.
“No kidding. I’m not a big fan of what I can’t control,” she admitted.
A waiter came to their table and told them the specials.
“I’ll take the Santa Fe chicken salad,” Everly said, passing over her menu.
“That’s my favorite,” the waiter said. He turned to Owen. “For you?”
Everly saw Owen’s lips move as he ordered his own meal and tried to imagine sitting across from him every night for a very long time. The waiter took the menus and walked away, but Everly was lost in trying to figure out how she’d feel if he was the one. Would she know already? You can’t know. You choose someone, they become the one through hard work, commitment, and promises you keep.
“You okay?”
She blinked. “Hmm? Yeah. I was just thinking.”
Owen folded his hands on the table. “About?”
“Whether we’re a good
long-term match,” she said before realizing she hadn’t meant to actually say it out loud.
Owen laughed. “Wow. Okay. No pressure. How’s it looking so far?”
Her cheeks went hot, and she picked up her water, took a sip. “You have a sense of humor and aren’t put out by my habit of blurting out random things.”
“I asked what you were thinking. It’s okay to tell me and be honest.”
Was it? She folded her hands so she wouldn’t move her fingers and leaned in. Okay. Fine. “You’re with someone for a long time, but things aren’t what you’d hoped. The excitement is gone, you fight all the time. You want different things. Do you do whatever it takes to get back to where you started, or do you cut your losses, decide not to waste your time trying to find what you lost?”
Owen blinked, took a deep breath. His lips formed an o as he let it out. “Life is rarely that cut-and-dried. It depends on so many different things. Should two people give up without trying? No. But what if they do try, what if they fight like hell to get back to where they were, but that road is closed? I think if you love someone, hell, even if you just care deeply for them, their happiness comes first. So does your own. Life is long enough to make the effort but too short not to let go if it’s just not there. You can’t force something you don’t feel. That’s not fair to anyone.”
She wasn’t sure why his words made her chest heavy with emotion.
He shrugged. “This is heavier than I’d expected. Really, I think two people have to build a foundation. You pick a person who checks all the boxes for you in the beginning. Then, if you can, you keep choosing them time after time.”
Her heart fluttered. “Yes. You do. You keep choosing them. That’s exactly right.” If she’d scripted his words, he couldn’t have given her a better answer.
“I’m glad you wanted to go out again. I’m glad you chose me.”
“Bookends.” First and last. She smiled. “A perfect fit.”
Ten Rules for Faking It Page 29