Page 64 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Hey, so you mentioned that something happened with Robert on your trip, but you never told me what it was.”

“Nope, I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. We’ll talk about that later. I may have made it into a bigger deal anyway since you weren’t texting me back as quickly as I wanted.”

Well, fuck. How else can I get out of this conversation?

“Why don’t we make a list?” Becka offers. “You love lists, and this might help you process how you feel. I think you’ll be surprised how many pros are in his favor, and maybe it’ll help you stop fixating on the cons.”

I sigh, knowing I can’t derail her now. “There’s a notepad in the junk drawer on the end, pens too.” She retrieves them and joins me on a stool at the island.

“Which should we do first?”

I shoot her a look. As if she really needs to ask me that.

“Cons it is.”

She writes out “Pros” and “Cons” on the top of the paper, adding a line down the middle.

I think for a few seconds. “He’s only twenty-two.”

“Got it. What else?”

My fingers tap in a rhythm against the granite countertop as my brain tries to find more reasons. “He… uh… Actually, let’s do some pros. I’m sure I’ll come up with more cons as I think through things.”

“Sure.” There’s a hint of disbelief in her tone as she draws out the word.

“Okay, pros. He’s amazing in bed.”

She holds up the paper pointing to the dick she’s already doodled in the pro column. “The Goldilocks penis. Not too small, not too long, just right.”

There’s a fit of cackles between us before I continue. “He’s an amazing cook. And he’s incredibly sweet and thoughtful. Oh, he doesn’t want kids.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Nope, that’s what led to the hand job.”

“Breadcrumbs, Bridget. I feel like you’re leaving out important details.”

“He has sisters that he’s had to help raise so he doesn’t want kids of his own.”

Becka puts the pen down and focuses on me. If I look at her, I’ll crack. “Don’t say it, I know what you’re thinking.”

“That he’s made for?—”

“Stop. We’re doing this so I can decide. You only need to take notes and remain impartial.”

“I didn’t agree to that last part but continue.” She picks up the pen again.

“Oh, I’ve got a con!” I exclaim. “His dimple.”

“I thought you liked his dimple?”

“I do, but I swear it makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do.”

“Forces you out of your comfort zone, pro,” she says as she writes.

It takes a while to come up with the next con. “Oh, I know, he can read my mind. He’s so in tune with me sometimes. It’s like he’s in my head. I can’t hide what I’m feeling.”

“Are you hearing yourself? I’d love to have Robert be able to read me like that. The key is if he does anything with that information. Like, does he read you and then give you what you need without asking? Because that sounds like the dream.”

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