Page 95 of The Opposite of Romance
But there’s no other way. I can’t go through the same thing I did with David. I’m not sure I would survive it.
Sandy arrives asI get back from school drop off the next day. To keep her from worrying, I offer her a small smile.
I’ve shared nothing that happened yesterday. I haven’t written a single word of my novel, either. But I deep-cleaned the entire house, afraid my thoughts will catch up to me if I stop for even a second.
Her mother-in-law is at her house, so Sandy’s Stella-free, and she makes her way straight to the patio.
“Wow,” she says, stepping outside. “This is gorgeous.”
I haven’t been out here since yesterday. I barely held it together while Asher and Olivia marveled at our perfect new deck. It hits me once again, and I’m unable to stop my tears.
Sandy looks around, wide-eyed, before finally turning to me. Her brows furrow for a second before she parts her lips with clarity.
“Oh, honey.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and I’m two feet tall as my sobs wrack through me. Bringing me to the newly built bench seats, she sits us both down and I press my face to her chest. “He’s gone?”
“He’s gone,” I respond between sobs.
“And there wasn’t a way to continue this thing between you two?”
“It would be pointless, you know that. This was just a fling.”
“Why would it be pointless?” She lifts my head so that she sees my eyes.
“You know he’s not my forever guy.” Her mouth purses in disagreement, so I continue, “He didn’t even fit any of the romance tropes.” It’s a sad attempt at a joke and she sees right through it, rolling her eyes.
“Fuck the tropes. They were a joke, anyway. A funny idea to get our minds off other things.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Remember how we started with the tropes?” Her eyebrows lift as she stares at me.
I shake my head.
“You told me you wanted to find love. I didn’t fully believe you because the divorce was still raw, but you told me you were ready for it. I should have known better. Because, Sades, this isn’t about him. It’s about you.”
I shake my head again, with less conviction this time. “I thought everything would be good once I find the perfect guy.”
She gives me a soft chuckle. “That’s the romance author inside you speaking. Unfortunately, real life healing takes longer, and it’s not up to your MMC to heal you. You need to do it yourself.”
I scoff in response, even though I know she’s right. “Why did I have to meet him now? When I’m fucked up.”
“You’re not fucked up. You’re hurt. I know you like to pretend like the divorce wasn’t too bad, or that what led to it wasn’t too bad. But you are deeply hurt. And you deserve to be free of it.”
“He said he’ll wait for me,” I whisper, staring into the distance.
“Of course he did.”
“What do you mean?” My eyes snap back to hers.
“You know how much I teased you about him? About how hot he is?” I nod so she continues, “It wasn’t because I was horny so soon after giving birth to Stella. It was because I saw how helooked at you. The glances he stole a million times a day, or how he’d smile when he heard you laughing. That boy has been down for you for a while now.”
I wince at her use of the word ‘boy’. “I had … no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. You were convinced you’re unlovable.”
I set my head back against her chest, my head spiraling with thoughts. I get what she’s saying. She’s probably right. But it doesn’t make the fear less real. “I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s ok. Take your time.”
