Page 81 of My Ex-Best Friend's Wedding

“I’ve readHeart of Goldand it’s really, really good.”

Bree

I blink. Lauren’s words came out in such a rush that I assume I’ve misheard. Or maybe I’ve put the words I most want to hear in her mouth. “What?”

Lauren’s hands are clasped so tightly on the table that her knuckles are white. “Clay gave me your manuscript when we left your house and... I finally read it yesterday. In one sitting.”

Our eyes lock. I wait, barely breathing, for whatever is going to come next.

“And it’s so good that I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

The adrenaline that’s been pumping through my bloodstream must have muddied my thinking along with my hearing. “You readHeart of Goldyesterday and you didn’t want to tell me that it’s good?”

“I just... I wasn’t prepared. It took me by surprise...” Her voice trails off and I can see how much she wants to look away. “I guess deep down—or maybe not even very deep down at all—I didn’twantit to be good.”

I am actually speechless. As in I’m still trying to absorb this and do not know what to say. Our friendship eroded almost twenty years ago, and apparently her memory of anyone’s talent but her own went with it.

“Because?”

“Because... I’m small and petty and it was so good and it was so... honest... that...” She swallows and sets her jaw. “I was jealous.”

Lauren is jealous of me. Of my manuscript. Because it’s so good.

This is possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. The single nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. The very thing this morning’s found rejections made me fear I’d never hear.

I let go of the urge to give her shit for not believing in me all these years. “Could you say that part about my manuscript again?”

“It’s really good.” This time she nods for emphasis as she says it.

I feel the absolute mind-numbing joy of validation, but... “Do you think you could say it one more time?”

“It’s so good and so fresh and so honest, that I’m jealous.”

I close my eyes. A celestial choir sings in my head. When I open them she’s watching me. Waiting.

“I’m very glad—and relieved—that you liked it. But... I found three form rejections in my spam this morning. If it’s so good why didn’t any of them want it?”

Lauren smiles. “Do you remember me telling you about all the rejections I got beforeSandcastle Sunrisefinally sold?”

I wince as I always do at the mention of the book that we brainstormed together and that she used to build her career. But I also nod. What are the chances that I would have hung in there for twentynos when I’m so thrown by my first three?

“Would you like to hear a few?” Lauren asks. “Just to put things in perspective?”

I nod again but only because I don’t want to sound like a frightened child.

I wait for her to pull letters or pieces of paper from her purse or out of her pockets, but she just clears her throat and says, “‘I find I can’t like the characters in the way that I wish I could. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.’”

I gasp.

Lauren continues, in a carefully emotionless voice. “‘Your submission is missing that special something that really good novels require. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I suggest extensive rewrites before you submit elsewhere.’” After a short breath she adds, “‘This submission lacks an interesting plot. Your characters are also one-dimensional. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.’”

The lack of emphasis makes the words even harsher and more difficult to listen to.

Her face is equally expressionless as she concludes with, “‘I find your characters wooden and unrelatable. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Best of luck in placing your work elsewhere.’”

“Oh my God. That’s... those are horrible.”

She nods. “Great reviews and feedback feel fabulous in the moment, but for some reason it’s the negative ones you never forget. Some of the others were even worse.” She sighs. “But I came to realize they were just opinions. I reread them for years. Twice on the days I wanted to give up. I was determined to prove them wrong and to have the last word. Three or four years ago, two of those editors tried to lure me away from my current publisher. They were both throwing big money at me.”

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