Page 134 of Never Let You Go

“She’s perfect for him. She runs her own business like a pro. She’s a CPA, for crying out loud! She makes her own yogurt.”

“So what?”

“So? I don’t know anything about taxes, and running a small business, and she does. She does his books, she looks over his contracts, and she brings him fresh eggs from chickens she raises herself. She’s like, this perfect small-town wonder-woman.”

“And?”

“And I don’t even know what hole the egg comes out of!”

“What hole?” Sarah laughs.

“Yeah. The eggs were covered in shit. Do they come from the butthole? Or from the chicken’s vagina?”

“Ohmygod, Alex you’re too much,” she laughs hysterically, then calms down. “And that’s important because?”

“It’s important because it’s a reminder for me why I’m not Christopher’s person and cannot be anyone’s person.”

“Riiiight,” she says sarcastically. “Because you don’t know if the egg comes from the butthole or not. That’s critical to him. Makes perfect sense why you wouldn’t be the one for him.”

I take a deep breath. Not just because there’s no way I can explain this to Sarah, but also because I’m about to apply eye liner, and I need a steady hand.

I do my eyes extra smoky, and for some reason I always have to pull my face down when I do that, so my voice comes out funny when I say, “Point is, we’re not a couple. We agreed on that.”

“Really. You agreed on that.”

“Yeah, really.” I don’t need her to break down the barriers I put up. She doesn’t understand how hard it is for me, to see everything within reach, yet unattainable. I need these mental stops. These reminders that this is temporary. That my real life is something else and that with Christopher, I’m just making it easier while I’m here.

He wouldn’t want me for anything more than what we have. Otherwise, why would he go to dinner at Emma’s all dressed up like he was? “We said, if I tagged along tonight, we’d look like a couple, so we’re not doin’ that.”

I close the eyeliner thingy, stick it in my pouch, and pull out the mascara.

That I can do with my face straight, for some reason. “I had a good conversation with Barbara,” I tell Sarah and update her on our plans for Red Barn Baking. “Even if it’s a long shot, I’m excited to be working on making it a better place. Righting some wrongs, you know?”

“I get you, honey, and I’m glad it’s working out for you. Just don’t give up on yourself, okay?”

“Sarah. This is me not giving up on myself.” I think. “It helps me to focus on something where I can really make an impact. Something I have a right to.” I apply the last touch of mascara. My makeup is on point, with the focus on my eyes. I’ll finish it with a nude lipstick once I’m dressed. I don’t want to look like I’m trying to pick someone up.

“You have a right to the happy ever after too, Alex. You’re just refusing to see it.”

“Not in that way. Not for me,” I mumble.

She sighs, exasperated. “Two things. You’re wrong about that. And I love you.”

“Love you too.”

We hang up, and I put on the skinny jeans, cowboy boots, and clingy green top that makes my boobs look awesome without showing too much cleavage. I add gold dangle earrings, an emerald pendant, a stack of rings, and a spritz of perfume, and am ready right when Grace texts me from her car that she’s out front.

I look at myself in the mirror.

I look hot.

At least there’s that.

“How’s the hottest bachelor in Emerald Creek doing?” a girl with long red hair croons my way.

She’s a friend of Autumn’s, and we bumped into Autumn and Kiara the minute we got to The Growler.

“That would be Chris,” Autumn volunteers.

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