Page 7 of Meet Me Back Here

And my heart drops right into my ass.

“Uh…” I start, my eyes darting around the store like I’ll suddenly discover the spark of inspiration I’ve been searching for. If I’m lucky, I can come up with a teaser right now.

Come on, universe. Do me a solid.

I look in every corner of my mind, and I find nothing.

My ears start ringing. “Well…”

Like she can sense my panic, Eliana jumps in.

“You know how writing goes. That kind of information is top secret.” She winks with a chuckle that makes it seem like we’re all in this together. “But we all know it’ll be great!”

Everyone claps some more, so I smile and try not to look like the biggest fucking liar in the room.

CHAPTER THREE

come on, mom. give a girl a break

Thankfully, the rest of the questions directed at me focus on books I’ve already written, and the signing line is the perfect mental reset. The store set up a Halloween backdrop for photos with fun props from all our books and almost everybody dressed up.

As we wrap up, after the other panelists and I take some group photos and part ways, I do a sweep of the emptying room, looking for Forrest, and find him grinning beside a man and a woman.

My parents?

“Mom, Dad!” I say as I hurry toward them and get swept up in a Viottolo family hug. “What are you doing here?”

Joseph Viottolo is on the shorter side but broad and strong with thick black hair and an equally thick mustache. His stern brow makes him look kind of intense and a little mean, but he’s actually the jolliest person you’ll ever meet.

While Dad looks like the more intimidating parent, everybody who meets my mom quickly learns Viola is the one you need to win over if you want a chance of being welcomed in the Viottolo house. She may be smaller than Dad, but she is mighty. Her umber eyes see everything, and she can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Once she knows your transgressions against her family, you might as well cut your losses and just leave.

“Surprise,” Mom says before pressing a kiss to my hair. It would be just like hers—large, dark, and curly, even if cut short—if I hadn’t straightened the crap out of it to become Mia.

“You should have come over earlier,” I say, wishing I could have thanked them in front of all the readers. They’ve always been my biggest supporters, no matter what hairbrained idea I brought to them. I want the world to know that.

“Nonsense,” Mom says, waving me off. “We wanted to watch you work without bothering you.”

“And we got to catch up with Forrest,” Dad adds, dropping a thick hand on Forrest’s shoulders. I hide my smile when Forrest’s knees buckle a little.

“Oh yes,” Mom says, her eyes sparkling with joy that can only be brought about from meddling. It’s her favorite pastime, and though it comes from a place of love, it’s my least favorite trait of hers. “Did you know he’s an architect now? Isn’t that so impressive?”

She loops her arm in mine and turns me toward Forrest like it’s the first time we’re meeting and she’s presenting him for me to evaluate. I think she may have taken it the hardest when I broke up with Forrest. He’s been part of our family since we met, and I expect she started planning our wedding years before we even started dating.

“Yes, Mom. Thank you,” I say the words through clenched teeth, trying to telepathically tell her to knock it off before I melt into the floor from embarrassment.

Since reconnecting, Forrest and I have basically pretended we never dated in the first place. It started as avoiding difficult conversations, and eventually it felt like too much time had passed to parse through it all. Instead, it’s like we were best friends who were separated by vague circumstances entirely out of our control and then miraculously brought back together.

Sometimes it hurts when I think of one of our million shared happy memories as a couple and have to keep it to myself, but for the survival of our friendship, it’s worth it. The most important thing to me now is that I keep him in my life. Even though the breakup was my choice, I almost didn’t survive losing him.

The avoidance probably isn’t healthy, but that sounds like not my business.

Our little fantasy retelling of our past is also why I haven’t encouraged a reunion between Forrest and my parents. I knew Mom would be unable to let things lie. While Forrest and I seem happy to pretend we never had a relationship, Mama Viottolo looks like she wants to pretend we never separated. To her, we’re still the perfect couple.

“I’m not licensed yet, Mrs. Viottolo,” Forrest says, looking down and shrugging his shoulders. “I have to finish my exams and pass them.”

“Ah, a few tests aren’t going to stop a smart man like you,” Mom continues, keeping an arm around me while she pulls him to her other side, giving him the same kiss on his temple that she always gives me. “A smart mind for a smart husband to a lucky partner.”

“Mom, please!” I beg, dragging my hands down my face.