Page 35 of Getting Over You

Smiling a lot.

Her or the guy?

Why do you care?

Why haven’t you answered my question?

They’re both happy as can be.

He replies, coupled with a thumbs-up Emoji. Twenty-five going on forty. My brother is nothing short of a dad, without the kids for the role to make sense.

My stomach tightens, like someone yanked on the knot within it.

Good for her.

I toss my phone aside and it lands with a thud on the floor. I check it afterward, to ensure I didn’t crack it out of frustration. I am happy for Gigi. I am truly happy that she’s happy doing this casual fling thing. I’m more than happy to help her on that journey.

But my whole body recoils when I think about her with anyone who won’t absolutely worship everything she is.

I know it’s unfair. I can’t give her what I know she wants. Even if she says she wants a fling now, she’ll crave stability in the end. They all do. It’s only a matter of time.

The girl just wants to be wanted. And I want her. I want her more than I want air. But I won’t be able to be what sheneeds,and I can’t bring myself to entertain playing with her emotions.

Something about Gigi is different. She’s the only heart that I refuse to break.

Red ink on a black and white canvas. My impossible to remove red heart.

A few hours later, my phone vibrates. It’s Gigi.

I have a date.

The text reads.

I consider what to say. I debate being snide, calling her princess to get a rise out of her for the hell of it. Then, I think about last night at the bar. The other guy’s hands on the curve of her hip that I want my hands to be touching. All the time.

That’s my girl.

I type. Then hit send before I can rethink it.

Why did I say that? Of all things, for fuck’s sake. I debate saying something more, trying to make it clear I’m kidding with her. Even as a joke, nicknames aren’t something Gigi particularly likes.My girlis crossing a line.

But I love doing things Gigi Knox doesn’t like.

A few days after Gigi meets Mr. Right, I get lunch at the diner. Gigi is working, her head down, focused. So much so that it takes her a minute to realize it’s me who’s scanning a menu and playing with a straw wrapper.

“Oh, hey,” she says, out of breath. “Sorry. It’s just busy.”

“All good,” I tell her. “Take your time.”

She smiles and blows out a breath. I hear someone in a booth behind me call Gigi over, and she’s there in an instant, ready to oblige.

It still makes me sick to think about her helping her mother in any way by working here. When I heard from Rory that Gigi went along with Belinda’s idea of not putting her on payroll, itpissed me off. I know Gigi won’t tell Belinda to fuck off, but I wish more than anything she would.

The thought of it makes me feel satisfied in the weirdest way.

When Gigi comes back to me, she’s holding a notepad and pen. She doesn’t say anything, instead she raises her eyebrows and waits for me.

“Shouldn’t you ask me if I’m ready?” I ask.

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