Page 158 of Gin and Lava

“My best self with—?” I stare at him, disheartened. “You’re talking about the Andromeda dress wearing, beach-house owning, perfect hair Naomi?” I lift up my wet slop of hair from the rain. “The girl that you like to parade around at charity events? That’s my best self?”

Sam frowns at me, not understanding my point.

“What if I told you I don’t own this beach house?” I say, pointing at the building.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sam says, blinking at me rapidly. “You do own it.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I assert. “Imanagethis house, but I don’t own it. And that isn’t some BS semantics. My parents don’t own it either. I’m not going to inherit this house someday. In fact, my parents aren’t even married. They were never married! And I haven’t seen my father since I was a baby.”

“What?” Sam’s face scrunches up. “Are you saying …?” His eyes ping-pong from me to the beach house in confusion. “You lied to me?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Of course,” Sam says. “We were together for a year.”

“All you wanted was the princess, Sam. You still do.” I shrug. “But the real me isn’t that perfect girl. The real me has a mother who lives in a run-down trailer in Texas. A mother whose bills I pay because she can’t take care of herself. And I’m a masseuse because it pays well, and it’s consistent, and it allows me to afford her life and mine. And there’s no way in hell I could ever afford an Andromeda dress. The one you saw me in was a hand-me-down from Esme who’s dating a celebrity! Maybeyoucan afford dresses like that, Sam. But that’s not even what I wanted when we were together. I wanted your time. I wanted your love. I wanted to feel like I was enough! And even as that fakebest selfyou’re talking about—evenshewasn’t enough for you. And she doesn’t even exist! I made her up.”

“I—I—” Sam shakes his head, not knowing what to say. “We had something good.”

“No, we had a fake relationship—arealfake relationship, except I was convinced that I could transform myself into the person that you wanted. You’re not in love with me, Sam. You’re in love with an idea of me.” I gesture to the property. “And maybe, I was in love with the idea of you, too.” I gesture to him.

“You don’t mean that,” Sam says, deflated. “I made a lot of mistakes, but I genuinely want you back.”

“Really?” I challenge. “You want the girl who comes from trailer trash? You want the girl who massages naked people for a living?” He visibly winces. “You want the girl who enjoyed having sex against that shed while someone else was watching?” My eyes narrow, and his face goes pale. “You seriously want her?”

“Naomi, acting out isn’t—”

“I wasn’t acting out, Sam! Iwantedto do that. I feltfreedoing it. And maybe I’m still not a hundred percent sure who I am, but I feel a whole lot closer to who I am now, than when I was with you.”

Sam shakes his head, a sadness in his gaze. “I—I—don’t know why you’re doing this.”

“Why I’m telling you the truth?”

His mouth seals into a hard line at that comment. “I just—I don’t know who you are anymore.”

I shrug. “At least now you’re being honest.”

I reach into the bed of my truck and pull out both of his suitcases, dropping them at his feet.

“You’re not—?” He looks at me confused. “You’re not taking me to the resort?”

“I think you make enough money to afford an Uber,” I say, slamming the tailgate shut.

“This is really how you want to leave it? Leave us?” He gestures to the suitcases on their sides in the dirt. “Does Shauri even know about your fake relationship with Mason? Or your past?”

I step into his personal space, making him flinch. “Does Shauri know that you watched me and Mason fuck against the shed? Do you want to tell her?” His angry, pursed lips are back. “No, she doesn’t know any of it. Just like you didn’t,” I admit. “The only people who know the truth are Esme and Mason. It turns out they’re the only real friends I have.”

“Shauri isn’t going to forgive you for lying to her. You shouldn’t come to the wedding,” Sam says stiffly.

“Are you going to tell Shauri all my drama the day before she gets married?” I challenge. “You think that’s what she needs to hear while she’s putting on her wedding veil? Maybe she listened to all your BS when we broke up, but have you been supporting her? The last thing she needs is you stirring up drama on the most important day of her life.”

“This is—” Sam rights his suitcases, clenching the handle with his fists. “You’ve changed. I don’t even recognize you. Mason has—”

“Respected me in ways you didn’t?” I raise my eyebrows, challenging him to deny it. “Mason spent time with me, he cared about my dreams, and he went out of his way to help them come true. He found it admirable that I take care of my mother. He liked me despite my past. He made me laugh. Hell, he put up with your shit for my sake. And somehow, I’m supposed to think you’re the catch?”

“You two are perfect for each other,” Sam snaps, dragging his suitcases toward the road, his phone in one hand as he pulls up his rideshare app.

“Nobody’s perfect, Sam. That’s the point.” But he isn’t listening anymore. “Maybe it’s our lack of perfect-ness that makes us truly loveable.”