Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Raya
Dinner is a little like a nightmare.
First of all, I can’t stop thinking about what Finn’s mom said, and that distraction is making me sweat. Because seriously—he told his mom about me?
Secondly, Finn is sitting right across from me, and the way he’s studying Justin and me is unnerving—and a little uncomfortable.
Third, Justin gets up from the table three times during the meal to deal with phone calls. If this continues, he’s going to turn Dallas’s guest room into his own personal office.
The third time he gets up, Dallas’s grandma, Sylvia, looks me straight in the face and says, “What are you doing with that man?”
Poppy almost spits her water out, and neither Finn nor Eloise even try to hide their laughter at Sylvia’s bluntness.
I would be offended if I weren’t wondering the same exact thing.
“Gram,” Dallas says, putting a hand on her arm, “Raya can date whoever she wants. She doesn’t need all of us weighing in.”
Mom signs this, and I catch the look that passes between her and my dad.
“Raya is an intelligent, beautiful, and successful woman,” Sylvia says. “All I want to know is why she would ever think about settling with such a dolt.”
“I love you like crazy,” Eloise says to her. “Can I be you when I grow up?”
I shake my head. “Not everyone wants the same things out of a relationship,” I say, though the words sound weak coming out of my mouth.
“That’s true.” Poppy nods. Always the peacemaker. “There’s someone for everyone, it doesn’t have to all . . . make sense, you know, to . . . everyone.” Her positivity trails off, grasping at verbal straws.
“But Raya, come on—” Eloise points to the door, as if to say This guy?
And I watch my plans crash and burn. Because they’re right. Sitting through a Thanksgiving meal without checking your phone every three seconds is sort of a no-brainer. Even I know that.
Justin walks back into the room to the sound of clinking silverware against plates.
“Sorry about that.” He sits back down and squeezes my arm. “Demanding client.”
I smile as if to tell him I understand, but I’m starting not to. Even if I weren’t on a hiatus from work right now, my phone would not be on this table.
Maybe he and I have different priorities after all.
“So, Justin, what is it you like about our sister?” Eloise breaks a roll in half and shoves a very large chunk of it into her mouth.
He looks at me, and my face flushes.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I say, then shoot daggers at my youngest sister.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Justin lays his napkin over his lap and picks up his fork. His food has to be cold by now. “I think I’m most drawn to her strong work ethic.”
Finn coughs, and I glare at him. He ignores me.
Mom signs for Dad, and I can feel his eyes on me, like he knows something is off. Dallas and Gray stay heads down, focused on their food.
“Her work ethic,” Sylvia says, her tone dripping.
Justin nods, like he’s just gotten the answer correct on Jeopardy. “It’s hard to find someone who understands my own ambition like Raya does. We’re alike that way.”
“And that’s an important similarity?” Mom says out loud as Dad signs the question.
“I think so, Sir, yes.” Justin says this a little louder than he should, as if speaking up will make my father suddenly able to hear him.
I can practically feel everyone in my family cringe.
“What else do you do?” Poppy asks, signing the words. “Besides work. Like for fun?”
Justin finishes chewing the bite of food in his mouth. “Hmm. Honestly, that’s pretty much it. I run, but I’m training for a marathon, so that’s more of a goal than a hobby. I’m pretty boring, I’m afraid.”
There’s a quiet lull.
“I’ve been working with this new trainer—she’s amazing. I feel like I hit a whole new level.” He looks at me. “Have you tried running? You might love it.”
Poppy laughs. “Raya doesn’t do anything she can’t win.”
Finn’s eyes flick over to me, the memory of our conversation fresh in my mind.
“Okay, family!” My laugh is nervous. “How about we change the subject?”
Justin’s phone buzzes on the table. He picks it up, and I can feel the irritation pinballing around the table.
“Oh, wow, sorry,” he says, pushing back from the table. “I need to get this.”
He leaves the room, and my gaze falls to the nearly empty plate in front of me.
It’s a visual representation of how I feel right now.
Mom changes the subject, and the rest of them join in the conversation, eager to relieve the tension in the room.
When I finally dare to look up from the table, I find Finn watching me, a question behind his eyes. It reads, You okay? And I can’t explain why, but I feel like I’ve let him down.
It’s silly, I know, but there it is.
“I’m going to just—” I stand and walk down the hallway, following the sound of Justin’s voice. I’m about to open the guest room door when I hear him say, “I know, I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
I freeze.
“It’s hard to explain, but yes, I’m ending it today.” A pause. “Because I already gave my word.” Another pause. “I know, and I’ll be there soon. Are you wearing the dress I bought you?”
My stomach sinks as my mind reels back to the day I found out the truth about Rich.
“Did you know this man is my husband?”
I force myself not to dwell there, in the muck of old memories. This is not that. I made sure of it. Thankfully, I never gave Justin the power to hurt me in that way.
I push the door open and meet his eyes.
“I’m going to call you back.” He hangs up, and I give him a sad smile.
I’m not emotionally wounded, though my pride might’ve taken a hit. I went to such great lengths to protect myself, and here I am again. Abandoned for something better. The similarities hit a little too close.
“I wanted to tell you,” he says, looking guilty.
“You should’ve,” I say quietly. “You could be with her today.” I pause. “We agreed there would be no hard feelings.”
He nods. “I wasn’t looking—I just—”
“You don’t have to explain,” I say, holding up a hand. “I don’t blame you. I can’t fault you for wanting something real, even if I don’t.”
He half-laughs. “Kind of took me by surprise, really. Who knows, maybe the same thing will happen for you.”
“Maybe,” I say, but in my mind I’m more resigned than ever that it won’t.
Because clearly, I’m easy to walk away from. Even with a business agreement, even with things thought-out and planned, even with clear expectations—Justin still chose someone else.
It’s difficult for me to think that any other situation would end differently.
We stand in silence for a long moment, and the weight of this failure settles on my shoulders. I tried to orchestrate the perfect relationship, the one that would keep my heart safe, and I couldn’t even do that.
Maybe I really am better off alone.
“I met her on a run,” he says, eyes more alive than they’ve been all day. “We started training together, and I don’t know. The rest is history.”
“That’s really great, Justin,” I say, and I mean it, because he’s a decent guy to show up here and go through with this dinner, even if he spent more time on his phone than at the table. The least I can do is be happy for him.
“Do you think—” he motions toward the door.
“Of course,” I say. “Go”
He nods, grabs his coat, and leans in to kiss my cheek.
It’s the most emotion I’ve felt for him—apathy.
“Good luck, Raya,” he says.
“You too.” I smile, not sure how I’m going to explain this to my family.
On his way out, I hear him thank them for the hospitality as he claims to have a work emergency to deal with. I drop into the armchair and let out a sigh.
A few minutes later, there’s a quiet knock on the door, and I look up to see my mom standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?”
She walks over and sits on the ottoman, facing me.
“I’m fine,” I say, unsure why tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I don’t think it’s going to work out with Justin.”
Mom’s smile is sad.
“I’m really not upset about that,” I say. “It’s just—” I meet her eyes. “Do you think some people are just meant to be alone?”
She watches me for a few seconds. “I imagine some people might be.”
I nod.
“But I don’t think you are.”
“It’s starting to feel that way.”
“I’m sorry, hon,” she says. “You’re so strong, I think it’s easy to forget sometimes that being strong can be exhausting.”
I look at her, thinking about all the ways she modeled strength for us over the years. All the ways I tried to do the same for her. I wanted to be strong so it would give her one less thing to worry about it. I still do.
“You know it’s okay to not have everything all figured out, right?” she asks, her eyes kind. “You have such specific ideas about what it is you think you need,” she says. “And usually you’re right about everything, so I understand why it’s difficult to change your mind.”
I frown. “You think I’m wrong?”
She shrugs. “Not wrong, exactly. Stubborn, maybe?”
I give her a knowing look, and she smiles.
“You’ve always been strong-willed. You get an idea in your head and it stays there.” Her eyes go wide. “Forever.” She squeezes my hand. “You know I don’t like to get in your business, and I rarely have opinions on your life because you really don’t need my advice.”
My frown deepens because it’s not the first time she’s alluded to this. “Is that what you think?”
“Oh, Raya, you haven’t needed anyone else’s opinion since you were eight years old. You know your own mind. Always have.”
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t care what you think,” I say.
“Do you?” she asks.
I nod. “Of course I do.” And it breaks my heart to think that I somehow sent her the message that I didn’t.
“Okay.” She leans in. “When I think of the kind of man I want you to end up with,” she says, almost wistfully, as if Prince Charming really does exist, “I think of someone good and kind, who looks at you like you hung the moon. Someone who champions the things you accomplish . . . and values some of the things you don’t. ”
“What do you mean?”
“When I heard Justin talking about your work ethic, I wanted to scream,” she says. “Because your job is not who you are.”
My eyes cloud over with fresh tears. “It kind of is, Mom.”
She clasps both of my hands in her own. “No, it’s not.
That’s what you do, Raya, it’s not who you are.
And sometimes you get so wrapped up in it that you forget to live.
You forget there’s a whole big world out there just waiting for you to explore.
Not to conquer. Just to explore. Because you get to be here on this earth right now, and that is a beautiful thing.
“Sometimes it feels like you’re working so hard to earn your place here. Like if you don’t work for it, you have no right to it.”
My gaze drops, but hers remains on me. I can feel it.
“For the right person, you won’t have to do a single thing to earn their love,” she says. “You have it simply because you exist.”
A tear streams down my cheek. I swipe it away.
“I don’t think the right person exists, Mom,” I say, my voice wobbling.
“You have such impossibly high standards for yourself,” she says. “So you have impossibly high standards for everyone else too. Maybe it’s time to try something new. To challenge your own way of doing things.”
I think about Justin and the way I’d epically botched that. My way hadn’t worked out so well, had it?
“What if, over the next few weeks, you didn’t try to find ways to work?
” she says. “What if you simply let yourself off the hook? Rest doesn’t always mean lying around on the couch.
And taking a break doesn’t have to mean sleeping in until noon.
You can relieve your stress by doing things that fill you up. Just for fun.”
Fun. There’s that word again. I look at her. “I don’t really know how to do that.”
“Oh, I know,” she laughs. “But I think I know a few people who can help.” She smiles at me. “We’ll start this weekend with the Christmas carnival. Finn told me he wants to buy you your own tree.”
I half-laugh and shake my head. “I don’t understand why he’s so invested in my life.”
Her expression shifts. “Because he’s in love with you, sweetheart.”
Her words land. It’s like what she just said lifted a veil, or cleared my vision.
And for the first time, I don’t argue. Not because I believe her, but because . . . what if he is?
I don’t even know how to feel about that.
I think about the other things she said too—about not earning my place. About letting myself rest. About wanting a break.
I want to believe her. The truth is, I am tired.
And it would be nice if someone took care of things for a while.
It dawns on me that’s kind of why I tried collecting resumes in the first place. To share the load. To take the pressure off. To take my one and plus it.
So far, everything romantic for me has been a negative.
I don’t actually want to be alone. I’m okay admitting that now.
But I also don’t want to get my heart broken again, so where does that leave me?
The door flings open, and my sisters burst in. “Finn’s cake is amazing.” Eloise is carrying a plate with a giant slab of the wonky cake on it. “Raya, you have to try it!”
My eyes drift over to my mom, and I can practically hear her daring me to eat the cake.
Eloise holds the fork out to me.
“That is a huge bite,” I say. “You know not everyone eats like you do.”
“I know,” she says. “But everyone should.”
I laugh, shovel the bite into my mouth, and . . . it’s good. I cautiously step over that mental line that’s been holding me back for so long.
And I enjoy this moment.
There’s a tiny twinge challenging me to think about some things differently.
Maybe that starts with a big bite of cake.