Page 74 of The Pucking Grump

“I’ve been there, twice.” He gives a noncommittal shake of his head. “In the real world, people get heartbroken every day and cling to the smallest ray of hope. I once spent three whole months checking my ex’s social media account, asking all my friends to look for the hidden meanings behind her posts and captions. I was down bad. Why do you think your songs are so popular? Everyone wants to believe that after their heartbreak and pain, they’ll find The One and live happily ever after, like you did.”

My heart swells with a fresh bout of shame. “But I didn’t. I was lying, and I never found anyone. There was nothing perfect about my relationship with Ben.” Nothing perfect about my situation with Blake either, I add silently.

Kevin seems to have read my thoughts. “Exactly, Faye. There’s no perfect love. That’s the lie we tell ourselves. Life is a mix of confusion and heartache and happiness and crazy. Sometimes, you fall madly for someone, and they don’t feel the same way. Sometimes, they do, and you’re the luckiest person on Earth. No one knows how these things play out, or what makes it happen. And you’re not a fool for trying. I’d rather be someone who’s open to the idea of love than someone who’s too much of a coward to even consider the possibility.”

He’s talking about Blake. I pause, wondering whether to ask him more questions. Thinking about Blake makes my heart feel like it’s a dartboard in use, but maybe I need to explore my hurts more openly.

I go for it. “You warned me that Blake isn’t open to love. How do you know?”

He shrugs. “Because it’s Blake. You don’t spend five seconds with the guy before he starts mocking love or romance or marriage. I first met him about ten years ago, and I was dating someone then. His first words to me were, ‘Goodluck with that.’”

A small smile forms on my lips. Ironic that Blake’s sardonic humor is the only thing I’ve found funny in almost a week.

“When she broke up with me three months later, Blake was there for me. But he was . . . relieved.”

“What?”

“He kept going on about how he had been sure this would happen at the end, anyway. That I should have listened to him. That’s when I understood just how averse to relationships he is. He would rather fool himself into thinking that all love is doomed to fail than try it out for himself.”

My heart sinks. “I knew that,” I admit. All Blake did since the moment we met was make fun of romance. “And I was stupid enough to . . .”

“Sometimes, we can’t help who we fall for,” Kevin says, gripping my shoulder. “But what we can do is make the best out of a bad situation.”

Tears form in my eyes again. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” If I hadn’t canceled all of my shows on a whim, maybe I’d have more hope of getting out of this hole. I haven’t been on social media, and Kevin has been kind enough to not give me any new information, but I already know I’m causing a stink.

“You can start by being honest with yourself, by standing up for yourself and telling the truth. Not just to your fans, but to yourself.”

“What does that . . .?” I start to ask, but then I cut myself short. I know exactly what he’s saying.

Back at the cabin, on the day my heart shattered into smithereens, I spent all of my time worrying about Blake and how he felt for me. I was too scared to let myself admit my feelings until I was sure of where he stood. I thought of fear as some sort of safety net, preventing everything from crashing. But when he told me how he felt, I was devastated anyway.

“I was inert around Blake.” It feels good to finally say it out loud. “For most of our . . . situationship . . . I played a passive character in my own story. I didn’t want to do anything that would be too needy or too desperate. I didn’t?—”

“Want to put yourself out there?” Kevin completes, his wan smile back. “I’ve been there. I get it.”

“I thought if I was brave enough to admit my feelings, he would wake up and realize he felt the same way about me.” I feel another sting at remembering Blake’s reaction, but it’s less of a pang than usual.

“Getting hurt’s good sometimes, though. It makes us confront the uncomfortable parts of ourselves.”

“Yes.” I have to admit that I’m still far from being the woman I want to be. I fled my wedding, thinking I could be confident and assertive, someone who lived life the way they wanted. I made a lot of headway on that, but not when it comes to Blake. The person I want to be would have admitted, full-on, that she loved him and wanted to be with him. That person would not have packed all their hopes in a song.

“I’m in love with Blake White, and he doesn’t want me.” The shards of glass stabbing my heart feel almost comfortable. “It’s going to take a while to get through that.”

Finally. I said it. Just doing that makes the dark cloud split in two.

Kevin grins at me. “Good to see you making so much progress.”

I nod, but my mind is still reeling with other thoughts. Yes, I love Blake, but there is so much more to it than that. All my life, I thought that the answer to a great life was enshrined in a great love. I’ve taught that to millions of impressionable young women around the world.

But that’s not exactly true.

Kevin’s stability and friendship succeeded in making me feel better than anything has in a while. Loving Blake was great. His desire for me was enthralling. But there’s so much more to a fulfilled life.

I want to explore those things. And I want to allow myself to be as vulnerable as I can.

I glance at Kevin. I already know he’s going to oppose my next series of ideas, but I’m going to pitch them anyway. And I’m going to follow through.

Kevin rubs his hands in delight. “So . . .” he says, evidently mistaking the determination in my eyes for something else. “Are you ready to go on air? Should we tell your fans that the show must go on?”

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