“I just…need some time to sort this out. Okay?”
I nod, because what else can I do? Throw her over my shoulder like I was thinking a few minutes ago? That’d destroy everything right quick. Tell her what’s in my stupid, breaching heart? Not when it’s this far away from what’s in hers.
“I’ll truck the empty bins back to the warehouse,” I tell her. “Don’t worry about locking up.”
It’s dark, but her Jeep’s just down the block from here. She’ll be fine.
And clearly, she’s not mine to protect anyway.
THIRTY-FIVE
HOPE
I slump into my house,my mind on the bottle of wine in my fridge. My stomach twisted itself into knots the whole drive home, and now all I want is a glass of wine and a Christmas movie to distract me from the confusion of feelings whirling around inside me.Feelings.I told Wren I had feelings for Griffin, but I couldn’t tellhim. What is wrong with me?
Oh, just your standard crippling fear.
Lila crosses the room as soon as I’m through the door.
“Look at this.” She holds her phone in my face. “Engagement is up something like three thousand percent on Instagram and Facebook!”
I slink past her to the fridge and open the bottle of wine. Ignoring the evidence Lila cleaned my refrigerator today, I pour a generous glass. “I really don’t want to hear about your likes right now.”
She probably started a whole new fashion trend or something but I. Do. Not. Care.
“Not my likes,” she says, sounding a little put out. “The festival’s.”
She swipes the bottle and pours a glass for herself, still holding her phone out to me. She takes a sip of the wine and scrunches her nose. “This isn’t good. I’ll give you some recommendations for a decent rosé.”
“You got all that in a week?” Even a quick glance at the numbers proves she has a magic touch with social media. Although I guess her tens of thousands of eager followers already proved that.
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. This is what I do.”
“You’re better at it than I am.” I drop onto the couch. Add social media management to the list of ways Lila excels over me. I’d set up both pages over two months ago but haven’t devoted much time to them in the rest of the preparations. Now, she’s gained hundreds of actual fans for the fan pages in less than a week.
“Hey.” She sits down beside me. “What’s going on?”
I sigh but catch myself when it hitches and threatens to turn into a sob. “People have been telling me for months you would have done a better job at this, and now you really have. It’s not your fault,” I add before she feels she has to respond to that. “I’m glad you’re so good at all this. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You did stuff like this in Portland.” It’s almost a question. She’s probably trying to figure out why I’m on the verge of a breakdown on my couch when she’s given me such good news.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t good at my job. I was miserable in Portland.”
“You never told me that.”
“I didn’t want anyone to know.” My laughter has a slight note of hysteria to it. “What’s even worse, there’s this guy, a really great guy, but I think I just screwed everything up with him. I’m so scared Mom’s enthusiasm and all the gossip in this town is going to kill another relationship, I strangled the life out of it myself.”
“Hope, don’t worry about what people say about you.”
I laugh again. So says the social media influencer with endless validation.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got a great job, a great fiancé—you’re everything Mom ever wanted for us. You’ve got it all.”
“Hope.” Lila takes my hand and squeezes it tight. Tears shine in her eyes, but I go still when I realize that they’re not for me. “I don’t have any of that. I left Josh.”
I’d almost think this is a misguided prank, but there’s only honesty in her big blue eyes.
“What? When?”
