Page 88 of Hello Darling
“Keep going.”
I continue the routine and scowl at him, eyes stinging, biceps burning, brain screaming.
“If you’re wondering how he is, maybe you should get in touch with him yourself.”
“I just asked because I don’t want your friendship to be affected.”
“Very thoughtful of you. I’m not worried. He’s a good guy. I’ll give him a few days to cool down first.”
“You think he’s upset?”
“What the fuck do you think? You left without saying goodbye to him. He’s the best guy you’ve ever known and you ditched him in a hotel room.”
“I didn’t ditch him. I left early. I left a note.”
“Why don’t you want a great life, huh?”
“I have a great life.”
“You have a good life. You have a nice life. You deserve a great life, Stella.”
“For someone who claims to care about me, you’re pretty eager to get me out of here.”
“I do care about youandI want you out of here. They aren’t mutually exclusive. We got along fine here when you were in Europe. Candace can handle whatever we can’t.”
“Nobody handles things the way you do around here, Stella,” comes my dad’s reassuring voice from the reception area. I was so busy hating my brother that I didn’t hear the front door.
I exhale loudly and place my weights back on the rack, mid-routine, heading for the ladies change room to shower.
“Hey!” says Billy sharply.
“Go easy on her, Mickey!” My dad calls him Mickey, after the tough old trainer from the Rocky movies.
It is especially appropriate now, as Billy clearly doesn’t seem to think I’m living up to my potential, just like Rocky in the first movie. This is tough to hear from the little brother who’s supposed to idolize me and be forever grateful to me for making sure he was always properly fed and clothed and schooled after Mom died. But whatever. He thinks he’s helping me by pushing me. I think I’m helping Evan by pulling away. The only two people who I’ve seen who knew how to be with each other were my parents, and they didn’t get to be together forever.
Everything sucks.
And the water pressure in the ladies’ showers still sucks. Nobody remembered to call the plumber while I was gone, and that gives me a tiny pathetic crumb of satisfaction. It’s barely enough to keep going, but it’s something.
When I’m dried and dressed and back at the front desk, my dad stares at me while I check my phone and I find zero messages from Randy BritishActor. Good for him. I wouldn’t text me either. I’m sure he’s fine. I met him right after things ended with Georgia and he was totally, totally fine.
“I better not be your excuse for staying here,” my dad says, tough guy voice unwavering, but his eyes tell a different story.
“You’re not an excuse, Dad. I chose this life. I love this life. I can’t just leave because I met someone who doesn’t live here.”
“If your mom lived in London—if she lived on Jupiter—I would have gone there to be with her whenever I could.”
“Yeah, but she lived here. Your lives just meshed together.”
“Hah! You think it was easy for her to live with me, you’re more deluded than I thought.”
I put my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m not deluded.”
“Everyone has to give up something to be with the ones they love, Stella.”
“I know,” I say. “I did.”
He sighs. “He’s not the one you’re supposed to give up, dummy. Your mother’s life wasn’t supposed to end when it did. But it happened. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Your life was not supposed to end when hers did. It certainly wasn’t supposed to end when that boy left for Alaska. And I’ve let it happen. All these years. It’s beautiful here. But there’s a whole world out there waiting for you and one man who’d give you the world if you’d just let him.”
