Page 62 of The Opposite of Romance
“Troubled Hearts.”
“That book just came out.”
“I know, but it became a Booktok hit right away.” Her excitement is palpable, even through the phone.
“Wow. I can’t believe it.” My voice still hasn’t caught up with the whole thing, but I’m honestly shocked. To receive this nomination, it means more than I can comprehend at this very moment.
“Aren’t you excited?”
“Umm, sure. Yeah. Thanks.”
“Ook.” Her voice turns wary. I probably scared the poor thing. “I will email you the info about the ceremony, along with other things I need your thoughts on.”
“Sure.”
“Well … have a good rest of the day.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Poor girl will probably spend her day overthinking how she managed to annoy me. I guess all my employees are mad at me today. I won’t be getting the best boss nomination anytime soon, but this nomination I got is still a shock.
It’s the book where I realized I was a fake. The book where I realized I had no idea what I was writing about because romance hadn’t been in my life for a while. Finishing that book was the final nail in my marriage’s coffin. Even though it had a mandatory happy ending, it was laced with insecurities, laced withme, making it the most vulnerable thing I ever wrote. To have that book nominated for an award feels weird.
I remember thinking,was I so good at faking love?Will I be able to feel it again, for real?
Maybe my heart lived one too many love stories already. Maybe it’s all romanced out. On fake, superficial storylines where real-world problems never happen.
You can find horrible trauma in romance books, characters enduring things that a living person couldn’t. But you won’t find the scariest things. Like falling out of love. Or the person you love losing interest in you. You’ll have a hard time finding a romance book where the main couple divorces two thirds in and it still ends up on a happy end.
Would we even consider it a happily ever after, if one happily ever after ended so unceremoniously?
Sandy arrives on Wednesday,bouncing a crying Stella on her hip.
“Can’t get her to sleep?” I wince.
“Yup. Now, if you’ll excuse me; I’m here to see a man about a saw.” She walks right by me, heading straight to the backyard.
“Hiii,” she says to Logan in a saccharine voice. “When will you start the saw?”
His eyebrow lifts, confusion overwhelming his features. “I’m not planning on…” I point my thumb at the crying baby, doing my best to get his attention, while simultaneously avoiding Sandy noticing me. His mouth parts on a silent ‘oh’. “In a minute.”
I sigh, mouthing a ‘thank you,’ while he drops what he’s doing and starts the circular saw. I notice him looking around, not sure what he’s supposed to do. Finally, he grabs a piece of wood and starts cutting it, with no measuring or anything.
Sandy’s probably too desperate for Stella to sleep to notice it,but I’m positive he has nothing to cut. He’s just doing random shit for us.
My heart thumps in my chest, grateful for his help, but a part of me feels sorry for making him do this. Seems like working for me is not a walk in the park. Besides booking too late, screwing up all your plans, doing sexual favors, babysitting my kids, or driving me home from random dates, I can now also add ‘putting babies to sleep’ to the endless number of unprofessional things I’m obviously asking from my employee.
Stella is out cold in twenty seconds and Sandy releases a long breath. “Thank God.”
“I thought the naps were getting better.”
“They were, but it was short-lived.” She sighs.
“Come, let’s sit down.”
She drops onto a lounge chair, and I rush into the kitchen to bring us some lemonade. She downs half of her glass as soon as she takes it.
“Thank you.”
