Chapter 26
I ’d dealt with a lot of mortification, shame, sadness, and a host of other negative emotions in my life, more than my fair share.
Butnothinghad prepared me for this level of devastation and heartbreak—not even the wretched guy from college who’d broken my heart.
I hadn’t loved him. Maybe, in hindsight, I hadn’t even liked him that much.
But Jeff …Danny… the pain was unbearable.
I had trusted them. Him.
I’d actually made it to the couch today and just finished spooning the last bit of Nutella out of the jar when the doorbell rang.
Instinctively, I pulled the covers over my head. Whoever it was could go away.
What if …
No, he wouldn’t come here, would he?
I shook my head, knowing I wouldn’t answer the door anyway.
But the ringing turned into light knocking and then heavier knocking.
And because the walls were not thick in this building, I heard, “Roxy, we know you’re in there! Open up!”
Relief flooded my body, along with something I didn’t want to identify.
It wasn’t Jeff.
I threw off the blanket and tried to sit up, my limbs achy from lack of use lately. If I knew Hazel, she wouldn’t give up easily.
“Roxy, please!” another voice called out, accompanied by more knocking.
Neither would Mariana.
I groaned, rising to my feet as I pushed the hair out of my face. I headed a bit closer to the door. “Hold on,” I said, my voice slightly hoarse.
“We brought cheesecake! Just let us in,” Hazel pleaded. “Roxy, please.”
I closed my eyes, willing myself to be calm as I walked over to the door.
After unlocking it, I opened it just an inch, wincing when I saw their worried faces. “I need to freshen up. Can you wait a bit?”
Hazel scoffed. “Just open up.”
My lips rounded in horror. “No, I’m … not presentable.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “We don’t care.”
“Well, I do,” I said irritably.
Mari leaned closer to the door. “Roxy, maybe you could let us in, and we’ll wait while you freshen up?”
Everything in me wanted to say no and slam the door. I closed the door and leaned my forehead against it briefly before pulling it open fully and then dashing away before they could see what I mess I was .
“Roxy?” Hazel called out.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said right before closing the bathroom door.
I placed my hands on the counter, avoiding the mirror, and counted to ten.
I could do this.
I could.
I picked up my hairbrush and started combing through the tangles before my eyes finally met my own in the mirror.
I nearly dropped the brush when I saw the ghastly reflection.
It was even worse than I thought. My cheeks were pale except for the messy dark stains, likely the remnants of my eye makeup from the party that I’d never washed off and instead just half-rubbed off on my pillow.
I put the brush down immediately and dipped my face down toward the sink to scrub it off as quickly as I could.
My face had pink blotchy spots when I finished, but at least it was better than week-old makeup.
My hair was still a knotted mess, and I briefly considered pulling it into a ponytail or bun.
But my hair was a security blanket—a poor one, but one of the few I had.
I sprayed in some dry shampoo before it ran out because, of course, I’d forgotten to buy more, and then I brushed as best I could.
After spritzing myself with rose-scented body spray and brushing my teeth in record time, I took a deep breath, ready to face these women whose opinions I cared about far too much.
Well, as ready as I’d ever be.
I stepped out of the bathroom hesitantly, feeling a bit more alert. But the sinking feeling returned as I took in the messes very visible in the kitchen and living room.
“Sorry to make you wait,” I said with a faux cheerful tone that wasn’t going to fool anyone. “How are you doing?”
“We’re worried about you,” Hazel said plainly. “Obviously.”
“Oh, me?” I forced a laugh. “I’m fine. I was slacking a bit on cleaning, but you know, um, I was getting ready to start before I heard you knocking. ”
Hazel narrowed her eyes. “Right. Just slacking a bit.”
“I’m not the best when it comes to cleaning.”
“Or showering?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
My jaw clenched as I tried to think of how to respond to her bluntness. “It’s nothing.”
The long silence was tense as I tried to breathe in and out normally.
“Roxy, you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Your phone has been off all week. We’re here because we care about you,” Mari said firmly.
I exhaled slowly. “I just—it’s not as bad as it looks.”
“We’ve all been there, Rox,” Hazel said, gentler this time. “Everyone has had rough weeks. Or terrible ones. You’re not alone.”
I swallowed with some effort. “I know.”
“Do you?”
Nodding slowly, I replied, “I guess in theory.” I let out a long exhale. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I wasn’t fine, like I told you earlier this week. Or was it last week? I can’t even keep track.”
“Oh, we knew you weren’t fine,” Hazel said.
My eyebrows rose. “You did? How?”
“Maybe you’re not as good an actor as you think,” Hazel said, and then she bit her lip.
“That was blunt, sorry.” She proceeded to clear some of the clutter from my dining table and chairs before ushering us over to sit down.
Mortification sunk in again as I realized the couch was probably too messy—too far gone, just like I was.
“The point is,” Mari added, “you don’t need to act at all. You can just be yourself.”
I scoffed and then laughed weakly.
“I say this from experience,” Mari said quietly.
“The idea seemed so crazy to me at first too. Why would anyone want to know the real me? The real Mariana was a poor, heartbroken little girl who lived in squalor and was ridiculed for her poverty, who lost her father and then struggled through foster care, who stupidly gave her heart to a boy who didn’t seem to deserve it.
Who in their right mind would want that ? ”
I blinked several times, trying to process this. “Mariana, I knew you had a hard childhood, but I never knew about all of that. What incredible strength and—and bravery you have had.” I felt my eyes start to sting, threatening tears.
Hazel looked at Mariana for a moment and then turned to me. “Listen to me, Roxy. You have to believe me, all right?” I stared at her blankly. “You promise?”
“Fine,” I mumbled.
She took my hand. “You have that too. The strength. The courage. It’s there inside you.”
“Probably more than me,” Mari admitted with a soft smile. “You just don’t know it.”
My eyes searched the floor. “If you really knew me …”
“We do know you, Roxy. We know you’re an amazing person who battles some difficult things, and yet you get up and try again every day. You never give up.”
“Isn’t avoidance, like running away from parties, a means of giving up?” I asked.
Hazel shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s a means of coping and self-preservation. And what’s more important than that? Not much. Despite what society would have us believe.”
I started shaking my head but then nodded. “I would argue with you, but … it’s exactly what I used to tell my clients. I know, intellectually, that you’re right.”
“Rox, can I ask … you rarely talk about your original career in mental health. What’s that about?” Hazel’s expression was friendly, even though her question felt threatening.
I took a deep breath and hoped my face wasn’t beet red.
One word.
“Shame.”
Mari nodded, and Hazel widened her eyes in understanding.
“Before you urge me to seek counseling, you know I already know what a counselor would say. And I know, I know, knowing isn’t the same as doing. But it’s just not … for me.” I winced, knowing this made no sense.
“Can we just ask you to think about it? You can decide against it,” Mari said hesitantly. “But just give it some thought.”
I fought against the urge to immediately say no and make up an excuse for them to leave. “I guess so.”
Suddenly, both of them were coming closer to give me a hug.
I froze and fought the urge to slip out of their embraces or push them away.
Hazel stepped back and laughed. “Not a fan of hugs, huh?”
“Sorry, I’ve just never been into hugs. Yet … this didn’t feel terrible.” They eyed each other briefly. “And by the way, I don’t know where my filter is today. I guess I lost it in this mess of a nightmare week,” I looked up and tried to smile.
“Or maybe, deep down, you’re realizing we are your friends, and we want to know you .” Hazel tilted her head. “Could that be it?”
My brow furrowed as I tried to process this. “I’m confused, but—”
I gasped as I looked down at Hazel’s hand. I pointed to her ring finger. “Is that what it looks like?”
Hazel beamed as she held out her hand to examine. “It is. Peter asked me to marry him at the party.”
I smiled, but only briefly. “Wait, the New Year’s party? Oh no, did my argument with—uh, did I ruin it? I’m so sorry I missed it.”
Hazel was still smiling. “Do I look like someone whose engagement was ruined? No, I’m deliriously happy. I thought it would take Peter a lot longer to work up the nerve.”
Mari pointed a thumb at Hazel. “It’s true. She’s been talking about it nonstop.” She paused a moment and then looked me square in the eye. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on with you and Jeff?”
“ Nothing !” I cried. At their surprised faces, I lowered my voice. “Sorry. Nothing is going on. ”
Mari leaned in. “But something was going on, right?”
“I mean, we all saw you kiss him,” Hazel said with a grin.
I scoffed. “No, he kissed me— you know what? It doesn’t matter. It was nothing.”
“Remember the whole we’re-your-friends thing?” Hazel prodded.
I let my face fall into my hands for a long moment.
“Fine, there might have been something. But it won’t become anything.”
“Because it’s nothing?” Mari asked.
“Right.”
“You’re here exhibiting a classic case of rom-com heartbreak, looking as though you spent an entire week in your bedroom. All for nothing?”