Page 71 of Someone to Tempt
The other book club members are seated around a large table near the back when I arrive. Each of them stands to give me a hug. My friends are like a lifeline, tethering me to a version of myself that doesn’t always have to be alone.
"So you've all seen Joey's signs," I say as I take the last empty seat.
"How are you doing?" Sadie asks, sympathy in her gentle eyes.
"We're going to campaign the shit out of this election," Avah adds, saving me from answering. "But let's get you a margarita first."
"Do you need a campaign manager?" Molly leans across the table. "I can do that for you."
Sadie pats the redhead's arm. "You don't have any political experience, but you do have a flower farm and high-energy twins to manage."
"I'll figure it out if Iris needs me," Molly answers without hesitation.
And that's when something cracks open inside me.
The invisible weight I've been holding for so many years is suddenly too much to keep inside any longer. My jaw clenches, and I swallow, trying to pretend the moment will pass if I ignore it. The same way I've been ignoring my fear and loneliness.
But these women are all-in, and the support—their love—wraps around me like a blanket. The understanding that it's okay to let someone else carry a little of the weight releases the tight knot of emotion inside me. And with it, comes the tears.Tears I’ve been holding back for years.
It's the first time I've cried since childhood, when my mom weaponized her tears to manipulate and guilt Nick and me into going along with whatever outcome she wanted. I don't see crying as a weakness in others, but I taught myself to hold it all in because I didn't want to be like her.
Just my luck that the floodgates decide to open in the middle of a Mexican restaurant, and I'm powerless to stop it. Tears roll down my face faster than I can wipe them away.
I laugh to cover up how exposed this makes me feel as Sadie hands me a napkin. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Tears aren't wrong." Taylor loops an arm around my shoulder. "We've got you, Iris."
"You're allowed to feel," Sloane reminds me, her voice steady and warm.
The more I try to pull it together, the harder the tears fall. But Sloane isn't wrong. There's something cathartic about letting myself fall apart, no matter how much it scares me.
The other women seem to take it in stride.
Molly dips a chip in the salsa bowl. "I sometimes cry so hard I hyperventilate."
"When I cry, I get the hiccups," Taylor reveals.
"My dad didn't believe in tears," Avah tells the group. "I tried so hard to hold them back when my childhood dog died, I ended up puking all over his favorite shoes." The edge of her full mouth curves slightly. "Which made me feel a little better."
"I don't want to cry," I say, even as I continue blubbering.
"You're a pretty crier," Sadie observes.
Taylor nods. "Which is not fair at all. My entire face turns bright red."
"I've seen you cry," Sloane confirms, pointing a chip at our favorite librarian. "You also get this weird, pinched look like you're sucking on a lemon."
"That's going to be my sign." Taylor nods and squeezes my shoulder. "When I meet someone who thinks I'm adorable when I cry, I'll know I've met my soulmate."
"Girl, that's a terrible benchmark." Molly shakes her head. "Trust me. Men hate it when women cry. I was super emotional when I was pregnant with the twins, and Teddy couldn't take it."
"Ian can take it," Sadie counters. "He's a crier himself."
That comment makes me laugh through my tears. "You aren't going to convince us that Ian Barlowe is a crier."
"I'm not kidding. He was highly offended that I don't watch football, which meant I've never seen a Super Bowl commercial. We went back and watched a highlight reel of the most emotional ads, and it turned him into a blubbering mess. His brother is even worse."
"Sign me up to wipe away Felix Barlowe's tears," Molly says with a dreamy sigh.
