Page 96 of Kind of Famous
“Let’s make it easy then.”
I put my hand on my hip, acting tougher than I felt. “What are you talking about?”
“You got what you wanted. You don’t need me anymore. So, let’s just call it quits.”
I sniffed and straightened my back. As if me packing a suitcase hadn’t been a clue I’d already come to that conclusion. “Go on and paint yourself as a victim, used by everyone around you and discarded when they get what they want. Maybe you think people owe you their love in return for your magnanimous generosity and that justifies emotional blackmail. It’s as if you think that’s the only way to get people to love you.”
He looked like I’d slapped him. My voice was too loud, and my finger was shaking, scolding him. I wasn’t done.
“You know what, Shane? You set your own self up to be mistreated because you assume you will be. When you are, you’re justified in your self-pity.” I backhanded the tears from my cheek. “If you believed me capable of treating you that way, then this was never going to work.”
I turned to go before the ramifications of what was happening hit me. I could cry in a taxi. For now, I needed to walk straight. I needed to keep to the high road.
Before I made it to his front door, he lobbed one last grenade after me. “Good luck with Adam. Try to remember he’s married.”
Fuck the high road. I spun back. “Call me when you grow up, Shane.”
Then I rushed into the hall and slammed the door, so I wouldn’t have to see his face.
Fortunately, Uber drivers responded faster than my ability to change my mind. I gave the driver Jo’s address, hoping she wouldn’t turn me away. For all I knew it was Jo who’d ratted me out, and if not, Shane may have already poisoned her against me. But I had nowhere else to go, so I texted her and breathed a sigh of relief when she replied:
Come on over. Eden’s here and we’re out on the patio staying out of Micah’s way.
I was about to knock on the door when it swung open. As Micah went past shouldering trash bags down the steps, I slipped into the townhouse.
“Hello?” I called through the kitchen.
“Out here!” The patio door slid open a foot. From the darkness beyond, Jo waved me to join them. “Grab a drink from the fridge if you want. Micah bought beer.”
A beer would have been perfect right about then.
I closed the door behind me and pulled up a chair. Eden had a beer, but Jo drank iced tea.
“We thought you’d be spending your few hours with Shane.” Jo giggled with a salacious waggle.
“Did he chase you off so he could contemplate how sad his life was without you?” Eden was completely slumped down in her chair, practically sitting on her own back, with her bottle perched on her belly.
Just like that I burst into tears. “Oh, God.” I turned my face away and pressed the hem of my T-shirt against my eyes.
A hand on my back, rubbing side to side, did not have the intended calming effect, and everything in me suddenly broke. The sobbing was embarrassing.
“Hey, everything’s okay.” Jo’s subtle southern accent did the trick, and I managed to stop heaving. My breathing slowed, and I wiped my face one last time on my sleeve.
Eden had sat up, elbows on the table, concern in her dark eyes. “You want to tell us what’s going on?”
“It’s silly. I mean, we barely know each other. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“Oh. Well, if you don’t feel you can talk to us.” Jo twisted her lips into a frown.
I realized how they’d interpret what I’d said. “No. I don’t mean you. I meant Shane. How can I be so upset about a guy I met two weeks ago?”
The two exchanged a look, then Eden said, “My mom once told me that time doesn’t matter. She said that some couples take years to figure it out, but for others it’s as obvious as night and day.”
“Oh. I don’t think—” I wasn’t sure how to explain that things were as clear as mud with Shane.
“Then again, my mom has a lot of terrible advice.”
I actually snort-laughed, and it felt great to find something funny.
