Page 103 of The Perfect Love

I find myself in front of a fantasy section, which includes collector’s editions of several popular series.

“I’ll definitely be taking her up on that.”

“Come on, let me show you my favorite little reading nook.”

She leads me up a set of stairs at the back of the house—apparently there are two stairwells—and around the corner, where there’s a small open space by a large window that looks out over the backyard and woods beyond. There’s a loveseat and two extremely comfortable looking chairs.

Hyla plops down in one and sighs. “So cozy.”

I sit down too. “Wow. It is. Do you spend a lot of time here?”

She shrugs. “Liz likes having company, and it’s better than visiting my actual parents. I have my own apartment, but Lizlures me over for girls’ nights, and when I don’t have to work, I’ll stay the night or weekend sometimes.”

“She sounds awesome.”

Hyla nods. “She is.”

I laugh a little at the awkwardness trying to creep in again. “You seem awesome too.”

She scoffs at that.

“No way. Trevor never lets me get away with being self-deprecating. Somehow, I doubt he lets you do it, either.”

She barks a laugh. “No, he doesn’t. Even though he says that stuff to himself all the time. Such a double standard.”

“I’m doing my best to remind him how awesome he is.”

“Good. He needs that. This last year… it’s the roughest I’ve seen him since his dad died. Liz is right. His smile is brighter again. Thanks to you.”

“He’s doing the same for me.”

“Good. I know we’ve only just become besties, but I already know you deserve to be treated like a princess.”

I can’t help but laugh at that.

“Well, since we’re best friends now, I should probably have your phone number. I need to be able to text you if Trevor does anything annoying… or just because I want to get to know you.”

“I want to get to know you too.”

We exchange numbers, then head back downstairs and take seats around the kitchen counter, chatting as Hyla makes some tea and puts cookies on plates for us. I laugh at her retelling of how Amanda ‘hated’ her, even though there’s still a flash of pain in Hyla’s eyes. Trevor has mentioned before that he worries about Hyla, especially with her parents being so crappy. I get it now. I’m not sure exactly what I’m picking up on, but there’s deep pain beneath her bubbly exterior.

“So you teach yoga?” I ask. I’ve always thought a job like that might be fun. And an entirely different avenue through which to uplift women.

“Yep. Big, exciting job.”

So, not exciting, then. “It doesn’t have to be exciting, as long as you enjoy it.”

“I do. It’s not a career, but it’s something for now. I’m still figuring out what I want to do. And who I am. How not to be a mess.”

There’s that self-deprecation again, but I get it. Wound yourself before someone else can wound you. Call out your flaws, so no one can use them against you. It’s something that’s been ingrained in us—especially women—for a long time.

I know for me—and I assume for her—it comes from somewhere deeper, though.

I put my hand over hers and lean in closer. “For the record, I’m a mess too. Still figuring out how to heal from my own trauma. Just know I’ll never judge you. I know Trevor is a safe place for you. I want you to still feel that same safety and know you’re safe with me too.”

She lunges forward and pulls me into her arms. “And you’re safe with me.”

“Thank you.”

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