Chapter 12
Avery’s voice droned on and on in the background until suddenly it wasn’t far away but loud and close to my ear.
“What?” I snapped, looking up from my phone to find her standing over my shoulder.
“Hey, now,” she said defensively. “I don’t need to be shouted out.”
“I’m busy. You’re interrupting me.”
“You’re busy playing Wooduku. I think you can spare five seconds to tell me whether or not I can throw out some of your leftovers. The fridge is getting crowded.”
There was more than one dig in there. One about how I chose to spend my Saturday playing games.
Another about how I hadn’t bothered to throw out my own leftovers.
A third about how I’d taken to eating takeout for every meal the past week because I was a lazy slob who was too antisocial to want to eat dinner with the family.
Oh, and a dig about her cleaning up my mess, because of course she was. Because she was good at things like...oh, everything.
“Whatever,” I said, going back to my game. If she was subtly looking for my help, she’d have to ask outright.
And I’d still probably say no.
“I don’t understand the answer. Can I or can’t I?”
“I don’t care!” I blared. God, wasn’t it obvious I wanted to be left alone?
“Okay, that’s it.” Avery marched around the couch so she was in front of me. “Look at me, Eden.”
I considered not giving her my attention, but I knew her well enough to know whatever bug she had up her ass wouldn’t go away until she told me all about it.
With a huff, I lifted my eyes to her. “What now?”
“I don’t know, Eden, you tell me. You’ve been moping around here for the last week or so, making everyone in this apartment miserable. So what’s going on?”
Nothing was going on. That was the problem.
The day after Brett had yelled at me and made me cry—reminder that I’ve a flair for drama, but the statement wasn’t untrue—I called in sick to work, hoping a long weekend could act like a reset button for both of us.
Then on Monday, I brought his favorite coffee and some fancy nut bread that I knew he’d go insane over and headed to his office with a peace offering only to be told by Julie that, “Mr. Sebastian has requested no visitors from anyone today. He’s helping the other Mr. Sebastian on a project for the sponsorship candidate. ”
Right. Work was why he was avoiding everyone.
Except Scott really did have Brett putting together a last-minute documentary series to begin filming ASAP. So perhaps the retreat was necessary. I couldn’t know for sure since the one text I’d sent him had received a brusque reply. I need real time off, Eden.
In other words, not only was our romantic relationship completely off the table, but ten years of friendship was possibly doomed as well, and all I could do was wait and see.
So, yeah. I’d been in a crappy mood.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, biting my lip.
In her place, I would have taken those words as a sign of dismissal and would have stomped noisily off to brood. But Avery was the perfect one, so instead, she sat down on the coffee table in front of me and brought out her gentle voice. “Is it Scott?”
I shot her an annoyed glare. “I told you I’m done with him.”
“Oh, that’s right, it’s Brett right now.” She gave a sympathetic frown, seeming to remember the last status update I’d given her on the matter. “Are things moving too slow?”
I gave a vague head shake. I hadn’t admitted things weren’t moving at all anymore, and I didn’t know if I could bear the humiliation of explaining.
“Don’t tell me he turned into an asshole too. He’s such a great guy.”
Tell me about it.
There must have been some part of me that wanted to talk about it because I found myself giving her a kernel of gossip. “He likes another girl.”
“He told you that?”
I nodded.
Then I felt guilty because although he had told me that, he’d also told me he was in love with me, and I wasn’t portraying the scene accurately. “He did, but that was before we slept together. And then I saw him with her, and I told him I didn’t want to be his second choice.”
Avery snorted. “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”
I wanted to scowl and defend myself and say a whole bunch of things about how was I supposed to know, and it wasn’t my fault he’d been such a sucker for me, and all that bullshit.
I sighed instead. “That’s basically what he said. Only he went much more in depth and said a bunch of things I think he’s been holding in for a long time and…” I exaggerated my pout so that I wouldn’t cry. “I really really hurt him, Avery.”
“Oh, honey.” She moved from the coffee table to the couch and pulled me toward her.
I leaned my head on her shoulder, and while I didn’t feel immediately better, I did feel a little less uncomfortable in my misery. As much as I hated her for everything she did well, I sometimes forgot how much I loved that she was great at encouragement.
She stroked my hair and rested her head on the top of mine. “You understand why he feels like that, don’t you?”
I resisted the urge to accuse her of being condescending.
Avery had practically been my mother after ours had left, and while I preferred not to fall back into those roles, I knew deep down this was where that was coming from.
She was trying to help, and so I let her.
“I do now. He feels like he must be second choice because he’s been there all along, and I never tried to get with him. ”
I sat up and turned so I could face her. “But the thing is: I never considered him an option.”
She tilted her head, and I could tell she was looking for the nicest way to say whatever she was thinking.
“Just say it. Whatever it is, it can’t hurt more than what Brett said.” Might as well see how low I could feel.
She didn’t hesitate. “I just don’t understand how he wasn’t an option. You knew he liked you—you’ve said several times you thought he did, so that can’t be the thing that was stopping you. Were you not interested?”
“No, I was interested. Who wouldn’t be? But it’s like…
” I paused to think of the best way to frame it.
“It’s like the ‘pass’ list you have with Nolan.
You know, the list you guys have where if you ever meet Michael Fassbender, you get to bang him, and it’s cool, and if he ever meets Shanina Shaik, he gets to bang her, and it’s cool?
You both know it’s all in fun because even if you met your pass person, you know they’d never actually bang you. ”
“Uh, sure, Shanina is never banging Nolan, but I’d like to think I’d have a real good chance at Fassbender.”
I leveled my stare. “He’s married. With a baby.”
Avery shrugged. “So am I. We all have our flaws.”
“Point is,” I went on as though she hadn’t interrupted, “they’re on another tier. Out of reach.”
“How is Brett out of reach?”
“He just is.” That she didn’t understand was frustrating. “He’s rich. Successful. Sexy as fuck. Monster cock.”
“I didn’t need to hear that. But also, fuck yeah for you!”
A reluctant smile slipped to my lips. “And he’s a really good person on top of all that. Guys like him and Nolan deserve the right kind of woman. I’m not the right kind of woman. That’s why I always tend to go after the bad boys. The boys who treat me wrong. That’s who’s meant for me.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” She pivoted her knees toward me.
“There’s a lot of bullshit to sort through here, and I’m not sure where to start.
Okay, I’ll start with this: Are you implying Nolan is also an out of reach kind of guy?
Because first of all, I love him, but that man is not perfect, and second of all, he’s married to me. ”
“Right. And you’re the right kind of woman.” I’d never actually told her that to her face, and I instantly felt awkward.
“That’s the next part of the bullshit then—what the hell are you talking about? Me, the ‘right kind of woman.’ What does that even mean?”
“Well—” I couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “You’re just...you’re good at everything. Perfect mother. Perfect wife. Perfect house. It’s like everything you touch is gold. It’s actually very impressive. And also quite maddening.”
“Eden.” She stared at me in awe. “I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say. No, actually I do—”
“Because you always know what to say,” I pointed out.
“No, no, no. I don’t. And what you’re talking about, all the perfects you listed? That’s facade. That’s all the stuff I project to the world because I’m so deeply afraid someone will find out what a hot mess I am.”
“You are not a—”
“Because I hide it, but I truly am. I’m jealous and bitter and petty.
I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.
My peers were all able to have babies and keep working.
I can’t manage just the baby without a meltdown at least twice a day.
I’m a terrible mom. I’m losing my hair.” She tugged at a lock, as if she’d pull and a bunch would fall out.
It didn’t. “I gained twice what my doctor said I should when I was pregnant, and have only lost a quarter of it. I failed at breastfeeding—I said Finch wouldn’t latch on, but it was me who couldn’t figure it out.
Nolan sleeps on the couch half the time because I throw a fit for no reason and send him out there and then feel lonely and depressed all night but too proud to go after him.
The condominium board? I anonymously bullied Cassandra Sanchez on Next Door so she’d step down because I envied the attention she got, and then ran in her place.
I secretly order half our meals from a catering place.
I ate a whole pint of ice cream last night by myself in my bedroom.
And apparently, I make my little sister feel like crap because she believes all the lies I surround myself with. Eden, I am very, very flawed.”
My mouth sat open while I processed everything she said. I hadn’t been expecting a confession, and honestly, some of it made me mad. She’d let me believe she was a superwoman all this time, not caring how it would affect me?
Then I laughed. “You order our meals from catering? And Nolan doesn’t know?”
“No one knows. Except Mrs. Wenchel because they went to the wrong door one time. I order it early enough in the day, while you and Nolan are at work, and then put it in the oven so you think I made it all.”
“That’s why you’re able to keep the kitchen clean while you cook.”
“Because I don’t mess anything up.” She smiled weakly.
When I smiled back, hers grew to a laugh. Then we were both laughing.
Laughing until I punched her arm, and not all that lightly. “Ow!” she yelped, her laughter ending abruptly.
“You made me think you were perfect.”
“I didn’t make you think anything. And anyway, it shouldn’t matter whether I am or not. You can’t compare yourself to someone else.”
“Oh my God, talk about the pot and the kettle.”
She giggled. “I told you—I’m a mess.”
I had the sudden urge to hug her, so I did. “What is wrong with us?”
“The patriarchy,” she said, hugging me back as tightly as I was hugging her.
“And no female role model in the house. Really, there’s lots of reasons why the cards are stacked against us.
” She pulled away and gripped my shoulders so I’d be forced to look at her.
“But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve good things.
I deserve Nolan. We’re good for each other.
And you’re good for Brett. He loves you, and if you love him back, you deserve to have him. ”
I lost the war against my emotions, and my eyes watered. “It means a lot. Hearing you say that. It probably shouldn’t, but it does.”
“It shouldn’t matter what I think, but I’m glad it helps.” Her eyes were watering too. “We really need to learn to be happy with ourselves. Without anyone telling us.”
“I know. But the confidence of others sure helps.” I cleared my throat.
“Actually, I think this is a lesson I’ve been learning for a while.
I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I think the reason I finally let something happen with Brett was because I’ve been changing, and I do think I deserve him.
” Saying it out loud felt uncomfortably bold. “Sort of.”
Avery pursed her lips. “Sort of is not the kind of talk I want to hear, slightly younger than me lady.”
“I’m a work in progress, okay?”
“Fine, fine. Just know I think he’s the one who should be asking if he deserves you.”
I really did love her sometimes.
“I know this conversation is about you,” she said after a beat, “but uh, what exactly was the key to getting you on the pathway to self-love? Was it yoga? Please, don’t tell me it was the yoga. I am really not bendy.”
“It wasn’t the yoga,” I assured her. “As for what did, I haven’t quite figured it out.” I had some idea, but Avery wasn’t the first person I wanted to tell.
She seemed to understand. “Well, when you do, you should tell him.”
...And now we were back to where we started.
“But he won’t talk to me.” I threw myself back into the couch, extra dramatic like because I was pretty sure she loved my flair despite constantly complaining about it.
“That is depressing.” She leaned back as well, a show of support. “Have you tried?”
“Enough to know he needs space. I’m trying to give it to him.”
She nodded. “Personally, I’d ignore that space, but as I’ve admitted, my ways are flawed. You should probably give him time.”
“Yeah.”
“But not forever. Figure out how to talk to him fairly soon. It seems he needs to know he’s worth fighting for.”
She’d confirmed something I recognized intuitively but hadn’t been able to articulate. I knew I needed to fight for him, which was partly why the time away from him had given me so much anxiety.
The other part was I just missed him.
“Okay,” I said, glad for the clarity. “I don’t know how I’ll fight for him exactly…”
“Then you need to figure that out too.” Clearly, that was the extent of her helpfulness.
“Thanks a lot.”
“I already admitted half my secrets. What more do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” I said, giving her one more side hug. “You’re perfect as is.”