Page 64 of How to Write a Rom-Com

I wish my answer could be as clear-cut.

“It was part of the research, I guess it made sense to me at the time,” I say, and it feels like it’s not a good enough response. She blinks. “I felt weird about it from the beginning and I should have trusted my gut.” I occupy my attention with a small pebble, kicking it back and forth with my right foot.

“I’ve never regretted anything as much as I regret lying to Liam, to you, to everyone,” I say, meeting her eyes. “I betrayed his trust, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”

Jill frowns. She looks like she’s struggling to find the right thing to say. “Jill, I—” I start, but stop when Mia comes running toward us.

“Lucy! Come eat with us!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my legs, her doll still in the crook of her elbow. I look up at Jill, who purses her lips to one side, as if to urge me to explain myself to Mia.

I get down to Mia’s level and take her hands in mine.

“I can’t today, I’m sorry.” Mia sticks out her bottom lip at me. “I actually have to head home, so I may not see you for a little bit.”

“But you live here,” she says, swaying in my arms.

“I don’t, I have to go to—” I stop myself, choking down the lump in my throat, “my home in New York City.”

“When will you be back?” Mia asks petulantly. I glance at Jill and she lets out a gentle sigh.

“I’m not sure, but hey,” I say, touching my finger to her nose. “I had themostestfun with you while I was here. Take good care of your mom, and make sure Robbie listens to her, yeah?” Mia nods her head excitedly.

“Go ahead inside, baby. I’ll be right there,” Jill says. I give Mia one last hug and watch her waddle back inside. After a moment I take a deep breath and say. “Jill, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“Lucy,” she says, taking a step toward me. “I don’t know exactly what happened with you and Liam, but you brought him back to life these past few weeks. I’m not saying I’m not angry, or confused, because I am,” she says with a knowing look. She puts a hand on my shoulder. “But you reminded him that he still has room in his heart for someone, and I think he knows that.”

I swallow the lump that her words caused in my throat. She’s being too nice. Nicer than I deserve.

“I just want him to be happy, and not so hard on himself,” I whisper. “He needs you. He won’t admit it, but he does.”

Jill nods, and after a moment she reaches over and embraces me. Her arms wrap around my back and squeeze, and I feel the tears building, threatening to spill over. “Be well, Lucy. We’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

Chapter Twenty-One

It’s July 4th and I am not watching the fireworks on Liam’s boat in Hudson Hollow.

I’m not sitting on his lap in his captain’s chair, wearing the sweatshirt he brought me in case I got cold, my arms wrapped around his neck. I’m on my couch, in Manhattan, throwing popcorn at the Macy’s fireworks on my T.V.

“Girl, it’s not Macy’s fault. Stop throwing things at them,” Elle scolds, plopping herself down on the couch next to me. She pulls the blanket that is draped across my legs onto hers, setting a bowl of popcorn on her lap.

She wants to say something else, I can tell. I feel her watching me. It’s the same,“Will she snap?”look she’s been giving me since I got home. I haven’t been up for much talking since my tearful phone call on the ride home. I know it’s been hard for her and that she’s been giving me my space. But I think her patience is holding on by a thread now.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” she says in a wary tone.

When I turn my head toward her, she pops a piece of popcorn in her mouth and smacks her plump lips with a pop. I’ve missed her so much, I want to reach across the couch and hug her for no reason, just because I can. Because she’s not a three-hour drive away, she’s right here, with me, on the same piece of furniture. We’re back where we belong, watching T.V., me avoiding her invasive, therapist-like questions. All is well.

Isn’t it?

“I think I’m all talked out, honestly,” I reply with a sigh.

“But you’ve barely said a word!” she whines, raising her voice.

I almost smile at her outburst, but my body catches itself. The moment my lips start to curl up, my reflexes kick in, and remind me why I am sitting where I am right now.

“I did. I told Liam everything. I was the most honest I’ve ever been with anyone in my life. You’re always saying it’s hard for people to be vulnerable,” I say, gesturing to her with my hand. “Well, itwas,” I add, matter-of-factly. “I did it, and then he told me he needed space, and you know what, I don’t blame him.”

“You know he was hurting when he said that.”

---