Page 97 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. Months, actually. Alone,” she whispers. “No boyfriends. No distractions. Just me and my mess. I started therapy. Real therapy. The kind where they don't let you lie to yourself.”

She wipes at her eyes. “Turns out I hurt you because I never knew how to love anyone properly—not even myself. That’s not an excuse, but... it’s the truth.”

“I moved into a little apartment two counties over,” she adds, her voice growing smaller. “I got a job at an event center thathosts weddings and concerts and birthday parties. I’m trying, Emily.”

“Stop, Mom.” My voice cracks. “Please, just... stop talking.”

She takes a breath, nods. Her face crumples with regret.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll go. I’ll come back some other time and try again.”

“There’s no need to,” I say, stepping forward.

She freezes.

“I just needed to hear ‘all alone.’”

She opens her arms, and I walk into them. No more distance. No more pretending.

And for the first time in years, something inside me begins to shift. Not into forgiveness, not yet, but into something that feels possible.

Like maybe this is where healing starts.

Like maybe, just maybe, we can try again.

47

EMILY

The bell above the door chimes as I follow Taylor into the third bridal boutique of the day. She walks in like she owns the place—head high, eyes glittering with the thrill of being in love.

With Matt.

Yes,thatMatt—Cole’s cousin.

I’m still not sure how that happened, but here we are. She’s getting married, and I’m her reluctant maid of honor, nursing a bruised heart in a room full of tulle.

She flips through racks of dresses like she’s swiping on a dating app. “Why does every bridal shop assume the bride wants to wear a basic white dress?”

“Because that’s usually the case.” I try to smile, try to sound normal. “The place next door has red and black prom dresses.”

She stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m just trying to help…”

Taylor sets down a hanger and steps in front of me, gripping my shoulders. “Okay, I am going to set aside this day ofmefora second and ask—what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been moping all morning.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just… thinking about Cole.”

“Obviously.” Her voice softens. “What about him?”

“If you were in my shoes, you would’ve dumped him too, right?”

She blinks. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Why not?”

“Because despite the ‘friends’ you’ve met of mine, I’ve been a loner all my life, and I’m used to people not liking me.” She shrugs. “So I wouldn’t waste time trying to win their approval. Especially not when I already had something real.”

---