Page 135 of This Could Be Us

“Ugh. Is it gonna be weird performative shit? LikeI’m white, but look how progressive I am working with fill-in-the-blank BIPOC?”

“Not performative, but she does want to give back, and she would like her brand to be proactively inclusive. Her father-in-law is Indigenous. Sofie has already partnered with a few Indigenous creators on some projects. She’d love to work with you too.”

“That’s pretty incredible.”

“It absolutely could be. She was thinking Haven x Sol, but is open to suggestions. It might be a precursor to your own lifestyle brand.”

“This is big, Hen.” I meet the excitement on her face with a smile of my own. “I couldn’t be happier.”

Hendrix chews thoughtfully, her eyes not leaving my face. “I’m ’bout to make you the mogul mama. Seems like youcouldbe a little happier, actually. I expected through the roof. You’re not quite at the rafters. You okay?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, I’m really happy about this. And I’m okay. Just turning a lot of stuff over in my head.” I trace the pewter swirls in the marble counter. “Mostly what I’m gonna do about Judah.”

“The drama with Inez?”

“Well, yes, that, but he kind of suggested we back off until I’m ready for an actual relationship.”

“Were the two of you notinan actual relationship? Wasn’t he hitting it every chance he got?”

I try to shame her with a chastising look, but this is Hendrix, and shame is not an emotion with which she’s intimate.

“I’m just saying it’s semantics.” Hendrix shrugs. “You’ve come a long way since Edward left you high and dry. You needed that time right after to stand on your own two feet. You did that.”

Watch me.

That was my response when Edward predicted I wouldn’t survive without him. Subconsciously, his scorn was just as much a driving force as anything I’d needed to prove to myself.

“But—and correct me if I’m wrong—” Hendrix continues, “there were other things you needed too. I know you want to be whole, but I think being whole means acknowledging all your parts. And there are parts of you that want to be held, want to be needed and loved. That is just as emotionally valid as the parts of you that crave independence.”

“Maybe I was so worried about making sure I’m independent,” I admit, “that I didn’t feel I could acknowledge those parts of me that long to share my life with someone.”

“You know now that youcando it on your own,” Hendrix says softly. “But you also know that when the right person comes along, you don’thaveto—at least not to prove something. Don’t we spend enough of our lives proving shit to people?”

“He said he wants to build a life with me,” I tell her, swallowing the emotion welling in my throat as I recall the rawness of his words that night. “On our terms, no one else’s. I told him I’m not sure I ever want to remarry.”

“And what’d he think about that?” Hendrix asks with lifted brows.

“I think his exact words were ‘Who the fuck cares?’” I say, laughing a little, even while I swipe at the wetness under my eyes.

“Let’s think about this, Sol.” Hendrix starts counting on her fingers. “One, he stalks you online because he wants to know and understand you.”

“‘Stalk’ is a strong word.”

She bends a knowing look on me, twisting her lips.

“Okay, essentially stalking, yes.” I giggle. “But in the best way.”

“Two,” she says, raising another finger, “Edward prioritized his goals over yours and didn’t see you staying home as valuable.”

“Right,” I sigh, surprised to only feel a twinge of irritation at the memory, not the hurt it used to engender.

“And this man, Judah, actually stayed home with his boys, taking time from work so his ex-wife wouldn’t get too far behind in her career.”

“He’s a saint among men, isn’t he?”

“Three”—another finger—“you said he sees you readingAll About Loveand starts reading it, too, to interrogate his male privilege.”

“When I asked, ‘Are you readingAll About Love?’ he said, ‘Aren’t you?’”

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