Page 89 of Rewrite Our Story

“Areyou giving me the silent treatment?” I ask hesitantly. Pippa could talk to a brick wall, so the fact that she hasn’t said a word to me during this car ride is unnerving.

She grips both sides of her bakery van’s steering wheel, her stare focused directly ahead. I’m wondering if we’re going to spend the entire ride in silence when she finally makes a noise. Albeit, it’s a loud, dramatic sigh, but it issomething.

“Maybe if you just start from the beginning I can understand. I’m not trying to give you the silent treatment, I’m just trying to figure out the relationship between the two of you.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “That makes two of us.”

Pippa looks at me from the corner of her eye. She hits a bump in the country road a little too quickly, making both of us bounce in our seats. “Oops,” she says under her breath. She slows down a bit, sitting straighter in her seat. “Look, I’m not the one to give relationship advice, my dating history is filled with mistake after mistake, and my type seems to be assholes with a side of commitment issues, but don’t you find it a little off that you can’t answer my question?”

“What happened with Chase at Slopes? The two of you looked cozy.”

Pippa gives me a look to tell me she knows I’m trying to divert the conversation. The raise of her dark eyebrows tells me she sees right through me, and she won’t fully let me get away with avoiding the looming conversation.

“He’s nice and fun, and we’ve flirted plenty of times before, and I want there to be chemistry because he might actually be a good guy, but there isn’t a spark. He might betoonice. Which makes me go back to my earlier point. For some reason my type is assholes.”

“You guys looked like you were into each other. Do you think that spark could happen over time?”

Pippa shakes her head. “I’ve tried.Trust me, I was really trying the other night. But I seemed to have more chemistry with some rich asshole I accidentally bumped into that night.”

“Rich asshole? Tell me more. Any possibilities there?”

She makes a fake gagging noise. “First, he screamed tourist, so absolutely not. Second, I meant it like I had more of a spark with some douche yelling at me more than I do with Chase. Neither is a good choice, obviously. The dude at the bar wasn’t the good kind of asshole that’s kind of hot. He was just a straight up dick.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to say. I get what she’s saying. There are many times I’ve tried liking guys I knew were good for me. You can’t force it, no matter how much you want to.

“Tell me more about this rich asshole,” I tease.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” She flicks the blinker to turn onto the main highway in Sutten. “You can’t avoid talking about what’s happening between you and Cade forever.”

“Just humor me with this last question.”

She sighs. “After you ran off, which I’m assuming now that I’m thinking about it had to do with my brother, I was still ready to party. I was having fun, despite everything that’s happened recently. So I bought the table a pitcher of beer, and on my way to bring it to the table, I accidentally ran into some guy who was wearing fucking slacks to Slopes. Like who does that?”

“Yeah, that’s unusual.” I laugh. Due to its touristy nature, most people go to Slopes dressed up in full country attire. The corny kind of country type of outfits that locals neveractuallywear. What isn’t typical in Slopes is people wearing business attire.

“So I accidentally ran into him, and I apologized because beer did get everywhere. His button up was soaked, but it was an accident.”

“And he was a dick about it?”

Pippa whistles. “He was more than a dick about it. I tried buying him a new shirt because I felt so bad and was wondering if he was just having a bad night. He was still an enormous dick after the new shirt.”

“Yikes.”

“Now back to you because you’re not getting out of this, and we’re getting close to the Livingston Estate where the wedding is.”

I sigh, thinking about everything that’s happened between Cade and I over the years. “I don’t really know where to start.”

“From the beginning,” Pippa offers.

So I do. I start from the very beginning. From the first night I ever crawled into Cade’s bed and all the nights after that. To the birthdays we spent together and the first time we kissed. I skim over a few parts I don’t want to tell her because Cade is her brother, and there’s some lines I won’t cross with her. I tell her about the few months when he was my everything. And then I get to the part where he broke my heart and what’s happened between the two of us since I’ve been back.

I take a deep breath. “So that covers it.”

“Your book makes a whole lot more sense now.”

I keep my mouth shut. When people in interviews would ask me how I could weave so much angst and hurt into the story, I lied and said I had a vivid imagination.

That wasn’t the truth. I could pour myself into the book because it wasmyhurt and heartbreak in those pages. It was my anguish. It wasmystory. Well,ourstory.

---