Page 79 of Texts From My Exes
I held up my hands. “Anyway. I mean…Aaron’s obviously not going to be happy when she picks me, but I guess everything’s over with now. So I just wait.”
By the weight of her silence, it wasclearlynot the right answer.
“Be a man of action. Confess.”
My entire body went rigid. “I slept with her. Pretty sure she overheard my confession over the phone with my idiot brother. What more do you want—a rib?”
She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn’t fall over. “Don’t be ridiculous. We already tried the rib, and look how that turned out. If anything, women should’ve given men a spare rib so you idiots could rub extras together and maybe generate more brain cells. But alas—here we are.” She threw up her hands like I was hopeless.
Then she leaned in, eyes sharp, voice low. “The world thinks you dated. You didn’t. The world thinks you were the one who got away—you weren’t. You were the one who stood silently, confidently, at her side. Do you know how rare that is? How many relationships never even start because people are too afraid of what it might look like if it’s different? You can inspire. You can come clean. You can help her win more than just your heart. Show her she’s a hero—not for giving you another chance, but for being smart enough to look in your direction in the first place. And thank her, dumb-dumb, for choosing you.”
She patted me on the head like I was five. “You’ll figure it out. Now, I’m off to Italy.”
I did a double take. “Wait—right now?”
Grandma Blue winked. “Take care of the place for me, will you? I won’t be back for a few months. Oh—and don’t get married until I’m home. I have big plans. But do have as much sex as possible. I want a great-grandchild before I croak. Bye now!”
She left the same way she came: out the door like nothing on earth could stop her. A flurry of perfume, confusion, and inconvenient inspiration.
I just stood there, jaw slack, staring at the door she’d slammed behind her.
Then, slowly, I reached for my phone. My thumb hovered over Harper’s name—then drifted away. I had her logins. I had access to everything. But more importantly… I had access to my own channel.
With a sigh that felt more like a battle cry, I dragged my laptop onto the kitchen table, flipped it open, and whispered, “here goes nothing.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
HARPER
I used your toothbrush at least five times without asking permission, I also used hot water, and then swore I would never confess it, so if we’re doing this, you need to know, I’m a disgusting pig who lies. Also, you snore—but I really like it.
—Ezra, The Perfect non-Ex, Sorry Vex can’t come to the phone now, why? He’s dead.
“Ah, I don’t like that look.” Aaron’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. “That’s the look the vet gives you before putting your best friend down. And in this scenario I mean your dog, but wow—I don’t like it. I don’t like being on this end of it.”
I forced a bigger smile.
He frowned. “Ah, now the kind eyes. Perfect. You know, this is the part where I should say he’s an asshole, he should’ve fought for you, he’s blind, an idiot, and we hate him. And I won’t let you go. But yelling those things isn’t going to help. So instead…” He exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging. “Instead I’ll sit here crestfallen, and when he does break your heart, you’ll remember how I was nice about it.” He blinked at me. Thensmiled, small but genuine. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve been on a few dates. We’ll always have the dolphins.”
I snorted. “Unforgettable. Dolphins and trauma.”
“And,” he added, brightening, “you’ll always remember me as the guy with the clean pond, free ice cream, and a community blowfish.”
That got me giggling again. “Wow. Tempting.”
“I can be tempting.” His smile faltered, curiosity creeping in. “Wait. What do you mean…years? I thought you only went on a few dates?”
I made a face. My phone was propped up, the little red recording dot practically mocking me. I should edit later. But I’d come here to come clean.
Deep breath.
“Here’s the thing.” My voice wobbled. “There was no perfect guy. Apparently he doesn’t exist. Weird, right?”
Aaron snorted a laugh, grabbed his spoon, and angled it to check his reflection. “And yet—” he fluffed his hair, deadpan “—here he is. Weird.” He set the spoon down. “All kidding aside…what the hell are you talking about?”
I gulped. “I panicked. I wanted to keep my apartment, and I was embarrassed that I didn’t have any good exes. No offense.”
