Page 27 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
“Understanding things is your superpower, yeah. But maybe you can’t—”
An electrical pulse rippled through her chest. “What if I did stay?”
“Nowyou’re talking.”
“What if there’s more to life than Excel spreadsheets and Sunday night sex and saving money for a retirement that might never come?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, you know that, but I’ll point out that youlovesaving money. It’s like a sickness.”
True. It felt like a game, one that she could win. At college, she’d started a savings club with three other CPA-minded friends. She’d thrown apartywhen she found a bank with an interest rate that was .25% higher than anywhere else. A literal party. Everyone wore golden crowns and whoever collected the most Monopoly money hidden around the house won. And it had never been about having a lot—she’d never needed to be “rich.” Itwas why she’d never completely pooled her money with Grant’s bigger accounts. She’d just wanted to be safe, no matter what.
Safe.
What the hell did that even look like? What did it feel like?
Maybe being safe was overrated.
She clutched her phone so hard, she heard it take a screenshot. “Screw taking a couple more days here. I could juststaystay. I could change everything, right now, in this minute. I could change my life.”
“Um—”
“Are you happy?”
Iris’s voice was a squeak. “Me?”
“Yes,you.”
There was a pause the length of time it took for two gentle waves to roll in and complete the destruction of Beatrice’s drawing.
Then Iris said, “I am. I love Jess. I love our messy house and the fact that I’m the only person in LA who can’t grow a tomato, and I’m happy to get old with her, and I love complaining about traffic to her. Saturday nights with her on the couch that cost way too much but fits us perfectly—it’s heaven.”
When was the last time she hadwantedto spend an evening on the couch with Grant? They were always going somewhere, doing something, always looking outward. When had they last held hands just because their bodies were close enough to do so?
Idiot asshole dickwad Grant.
Grant, the cheat.
Grant, the man she’d thought was the perfect fit for her well-planned life.
Stop.There were things more important than him; that was for sure. When was the last time Beatrice did something justbecauseshewanted to? Her calendar was so time-blocked that no light could filter through.
“I’m not happy,” Beatrice said with a thump of shock. “I’m not happy? I had noidea. Did you know?”
Iris snorted. “Do you even remember why we broke up?”
“Of course I do!”
“You don’t.”
“Okay, I don’t.”
“You weren’t happy. You said you were fine, but you only wanted to be either at work, all curled up inside your columns of numbers, or at night, reading about how tax legislation was changing. When I called you on it, yousaidyou were happy, but you were full of crap. I thought I could help, and you pushed me away. You spent all your time trying to fix problems that didn’t need fixing. So I left. And to be honest, you didn’t seem to mind.”
Beatrice wished she could protest. When Iris had moved out of her condo, she’d been glad that she wouldn’t make Iris sad anymore by being so boring. “But I wasn’t actually unhappy. I wasn’t depressed.”
“Are you sure?”
She scooted backward as a wave ran at her. “Is happiness something people actually go out and try to get?”
