Page 80 of The Road Trip Romance

Anissa: (rolling eye emoji)

I put my phone in my pocket. There’s a knock on the front door and a minute later I hear a key. Mark.

After we separated, we made a rule, he could still have a key but he has to knock first. I admit, I’ve become lax about it in recent years as our relationship has morphed into a better friendship.

“Hey,” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen.

“Hey. They are out back eating popsicles,” I say.

“Not here for them,” he answers.

Frowning in confusion, I turn to find him standing in the hallway watching me. I lean against the counter and cross my arms.

“What’s up?” I ask.

He motions to the kitchen table and we both sit down. Shit, something must be up because we only have a sit-down talk for serious conversations.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ask Taryn to marry me,” he says. “We’ve been talking about it. She just wants a simple courthouse wedding with just our immediate families, her parents, brother, and the kids…and you, if you want to attend.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised they’d want me there.

He nods and reaches out, putting his hand over mine. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

I shrug. “I figured this was coming. You guys have been together for almost two years now,” I state.

“I know. It’s just…I still love you. I’ll always love you,” Mark says, squeezing my hand.

“I know. And I wish things could have been different, but…” I trail off.

He pulls his hand back. “I thought you had finally found someone,” he admits. “Don’t let the fact that we”—he motions between us—“couldn’t make it work, ruin it for your future relationships. Not every relationship ends. Theycanlast a lifetime. Look at our parents,” he points out.

I hate that he’s right. And I hate that my ex is here giving me a relationship pep talk.

“OK, enough awkward conversation. You want to say hi to your kids,” I suggest as I point toward the backyard.

“Sure. But, Soph,” he says as he stands, “please consider being open to another relationship, even if it’s not with Tate.”

I feel tears threaten. God, we’ve come so far from where we were four years ago. And I hate admitting that I love having him as my friend. And I also hate admitting he’s right. Too bad it’s too late for Tate and me. I swallow down my tears as I follow him into the backyard. Maybe it is time to put myself out there again. If I can just get over Tate, then I’ll get back out there again.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

Sophia

I stare at my computer screen. It’s been six weeks since Tate left.

I’ve continued to message Penn every week. Jordan sent me a cutethank youvideo of him and Alisha from their Hawaii trip last month. And Rex sends me regular photos of his family’s estate over in England, trying to entice me to come visit. But I haven’t heard from Tate. It hurts. I’ve typed out a text to him at least one hundred times and then promptly deleted it. I’m not sure if it’s my stubbornness or my pride getting in the way, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. I suppose, deep down, I wanted him to chase me. I wanted that grand gesture.

Just a few days ago, Carol sent Marti a contract to option the film rights. It was strange for so many reasons. First, it was strange because Tate didn’t even bother emailing me. Then, it was even more strange when it didn’t come from a big studio, but instead, a brand-new studio that neither of us had ever heard of. They have a simple website, and I would be their first film.

I told Marti that I want to talk to Tate first before I sign anything. But I haven’t. I’ve told myself that I’m too busy to call him and that I need to think about how to word an email. I’ve talked to Anissa. I’ve even talked to Mark about everything. They have both told me to call him. God, I want to call him so badly, but the fact that he hasn’t called me makes me mad. I want him to reach out first, which is so irrational. I know it.Ugh! I hate this!

And now, I don’t even have the excuse that we need to lie low. It was a little brutal for a few days of media coverage after I got home, but then some actress got caught cheating on her husband with his best friend, and now no one gives a shit who I am or that Tate and I were photographed together. Tate’s publicist did do a good job though. They made a cover story that we were all scoping out filming locations and that he was a huge fan of my books. I’ve sold a ton more books since that happened. I hate admitting that Tate was right. It did blow over and it’s not as big a deal as I felt it was at the time, which only makes me feel worse. I can’t believe I let my fears come between me and potential happiness. It’s probably too late now. I hope it’s not awkward when I do have to contact him about this contract.Double ugh!

“I’m going to get coffee,” Lex yells into my office. “You want?”

“Sure,” I mutter as I pretend to try to rework a paragraph.

“Don’t sound so excited,” she says. “You know, you could just call him.”

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