Page 87 of Follow Your Bliss

I met her eyes and poured all my constrained anger into my gaze. “No means no, Misty,” I said quietly.

Misty blushed and shut her mouth, looking away from me.

“Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Betty?” I asked.

“Thank you, Rose. Yes, I could go for some water.”

“I’d like some too.” Misty’s voice was tentative, but I was getting bolder.

I leaned in and whispered harshly. “Go suck somebody else’s cock, Misty.” That bitch widened her eyes, but she put her head down.

This kind of boldness could go to my head. So, I kept going as I grabbed a water for Mrs. Betty.

“I’m so sorry that you and Jason and your whole family went through all that. But Jason’s smart, and he has such a good heart. He’s accomplished so much in the past couple of years. He built this amazing home, he has a successful, thriving business—actually at least two businesses.” I handed Mrs. Betty her water bottle, then I sat on my little stool and went back to pinning Misty’s hem. “The gorgeous custom furniture he does locally plus all the hard work he puts into his social media accounts and online classes.”

“But what if it happens again?” she asked. “He’s always going to be my baby, and I can’t lose him. If I can just find him a girl from a good family—”

“Of course you want him to be happy. But my two cents—he’s got to pick the woman he loves, not you. Nobody can make that choice for someone else.” I snorted, lost in my work. “I mean, he can’t choose the vagina he came out of, but he can sure choose the one he comes into every night.”

Fuck.

I held my breath.

Mrs. Betty choked on her water. Misty frowned, her gaze directed off toward the wall.

My face went hot, and an apology to Mrs. Betty was on the tip of my tongue. But her shoulders were shaking. She was laughing. I smiled tentatively, and she laughed harder.

“Oh my goodness, the things you young girls say.” She patted her chest and coughed again, looking up toward the ceiling. “Did you girls know I got married in this church?”

“No, I didn’t realize,” I said.

Misty had apparently chosen not to speak again. Fine by me.

Mrs. Betty smiled and nodded, taking another drink. “A long time ago. I love what he’s done here. And I love church weddings. That’s what I want for all my babies. I feel so much closer to God in a beautiful church.”

“Really? No matter how heavenly churches are built, I feel closer to God outside in nature. Give me a wedding in a forest, or on the beach. Or at least a pretty gazebo in a garden. I can compromise. Spin around slowly?” I said to Misty. Leaning back, I eyed her hem for the full circuit and only had to adjust one pin. “You can change now. I don’t want to make you late to church.” I glared at her. “I know you have to get to confession.”

Misty scuttled off to change without a word as Mrs. Betty went on about how this church looked in her day. But I busied myself organizing my supplies, fighting tears. Just to fit in, I’d contributed my “give me a wedding in a forest” spiel to almost every conversation I’d ever been involved in regarding where weddings should be held. But it tasted different in my mouth today.

Walking up to Jason that day he took my pictures, him in that suit and me in that wedding gown—I kept pushing that memory down before my foolish heart got carried away, especially after his revelation the next morning. But I couldn’t deny how seeing him waiting for me by that stained glass window with awe on his face had made my insides magnetize to his smile. How utterly romantic taking those photos with him was. How passionately we made love after, lost in the world of each other. Our bodies and souls entwined. And then his ardentI love youthe next morning while he twisted my fake rings.

I didn’t know about a wedding, but being with Jason made me start to want a marriage. A partnership like that…

No. It was a moot point, anyway. Not only was I not good enough for Jason’s mom, but he’d have to keep me his secret shame to make his dreams come true with StudFinders anyway. I would never be good enough for him.

And marriage wasn’t for me. Right?

No matter what, Jason would never be happy if he spent his life tiptoeing around his mom. Maybe he needed someone to remind him.

Jason

Somehow, I managed not to sit next to Misty during mass, and oddly enough, neither she nor Mom pushed it. I ignored her the whole time, all the way through mass and until I hugged Mom goodbye before she got in Misty’s car.

I stopped at the grocery on my way and came home with a bounty for our kitchen. I put everything away and headed back into the church to find Rose hunched over her sewing machine.

“Hey.” She glanced up at me and the vase of pink roses I set at the edge of her sewing table where it wouldn’t be in the way. I felt sick about how my mom treated her and having Misty in our home. I should’ve stood up for her.

I went up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “I figured you must like roses.”

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