Page 45 of Over the Edge

“That’s one way to send a message,” I say.

I know she knows she’s mad about the not-threesome, but she’s trying not to be. Wes and Avery care about each other in this all-consuming way that leads them to pretend they don’t in acts of desperation and many public affairs that are largely publicized for each other’s benefit.

Two years ago, I helped her fake a couples’ trip that people had speculated she went on with a mysterious older actor. Her name was trending next to Pedro Pascal’s for weeks even though there was nothing to signal they had any association.

“If it wouldn’t end my career, I’d quit.” She would. That’s how she feels about him.

The thing is that Wes is a built in safety measure in my relationship with Avery. I won’t ever be her number one person because of him. Even if they despise each other now, they have space reserved for the other no matter what. I don’t feel my usual pressure to be the best and most around her because of him.I also know there’s no way I can let her down the way he did. Mostly, I hate the guy, but I do benefit from that slightly silver lining.

“I have a question for you. What if after this album, I stop?” I ask.

“Like take a break? Yeah, you deserve one,” she agrees as if I haven’t all but taken most of the year off to get “settled” after my move.

“I mean…just get a normal job again.”

“Why would you do that? You moved to make it easier. You’ve put in the work and have been bending the truth so hard any reality TV producer would be proud.”

There are two sides to this now that I’m standing on the edge. I take a leap and hope all the shit I’ve done will pay off or I take a dozen steps back before running in the other direction. I’ve put in the work. I’ve made a name for Lyla West. I’ve done the damage. There’s just the looming question of if that damage has been worth it.

“I guess you’re right. It doesn’t make sense to give it all up,” I say.

“And that’s the thing with this tour, too. I’ve worked too hard to back out. I’m not going to let a man get in the way of that. He can send all the flowers he wants they’re going to keep ending up in the trash.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble as Garrett turns fully in my direction, and we lock eyes, it’s more of a feeling than being sure that we are. It snaps through the air like a rope pulling taut.

He shakes his head in exhausted indignation, and I reply with an exaggerated shrug.

I have to wonder how many times things have happened to Wes and Avery and we’ve unknowingly been in similar positions with each of us hearing opposite sides of the same conflict. He doesn’t look away so I hold up my hand, splaying myfingers then pointing to the gazebo. I mouth “five minutes”as dramatically as I can, hoping that will be enough time to ensure that Avery’s murderous intent has been forgotten for the time being.

17

Garrett

Through the phone, Wes’s voice muddles into nonsense as Evelyn’s waving captures my full attention. It’s like the world shrinks, it’s just her in the flower shop window, framed by draping vines and vases of roses.

She gave me a glimpse of something in the museum. It was similar to what I hear in her music. Raw emotion that she tried to dismiss. She might not think she’s the type of woman who deserves love letters, but I think it’s a crime no one has written one for her yet.

I almost did.

The thick handmade paper that we got with our tickets is resting on my desk at Alina’s. I might have written something if Alina herself didn’t call me downstairs to help her open her arthritis medication.

“It wasn’t a threesome,” Wes says sharply, forcing my attention back to our conversation. I move from the window and go back to surveying the displays for the forget-me-nots that I came to get for Alina. She gets frustrated about not being asindependent as she used to and the flowers always brighten even her worst days.

“That is the least important part of this entire scenario.” And after knowing him for nearly two decades it’s not all that surprising. Wes likes to press a big red self-destruct button whenever things get too good. He tends to be seconds away from this whenever Avery is nearby. We’re opposites in that way. I freeze and he reacts. It’s not exactly balanced, but it’s what we’re used to at this point.

“It’s very important for me, okay?" he says. “I think being clear about your sexual history is very responsible.”

“I think most health teachers would agree. But what about missing rehearsal?”

“Okay, not the most responsible, but I don’t know…I couldn’t look at her.”

“Didn’t you promise you’d try to play nice?” It feels like forever since I left Manhattan. Time feels like molasses in Hartsfall when before I was struggling to fit in all my work.

“I wasn’t planning on going to the party.”

“But you did.”

“It sounded fun.” He pauses. “She said she was going on a date with her guitarist.”