Page 87 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“Yes, Bridget, I’ve made stipulations that allow me to protect you from yourself since you were a child, and clearly you still need them.” He steepled his fingers, looking down at me. “Now let’s discuss what I need from you.”

“Your work has nothing to do with me. I don’t see why I have to go to some silly gala.”

“My work paid for everything you have. It’s important that my family attend these things, and that we all look well and happy together. All I’ve asked of you is to show up to parties, Bridget. It’s not a tough life you lead. And you owe Sean an apology. It was humiliating the way you left. This is the least you can do.”

Humiliating? For him? My brain raged around inside my skull, but I kept my face neutral. I was so tired and broken that I nearly spit out all the disgusting details. The texts Sean would get late at night, his assistant who I had to make conversation with at last year’s Christmas party when I had intimate knowledge of her lingerie collection thanks to those texts he didn’t bother to delete. The cliché as fuck lipstick on Sean’s collar. The way he’d told me it was a one-time thing, at least six or seven times, then stopped bothering at all. These parties and events weren’t the cake walk my father thought they were.

But I hadn’t told him or my mother that becauseIwas the one who was humiliated. And I couldn’t stand to find out if I was right—that it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“Bridget, Sean’s family and I sit on the same boards. We handle important business together and you’ve made it awkward for us all to be in the same room. Now you’re living here for free, fresh off of a cruise that I paid for. I won’t even mention the money you lost me when you canceled your wedding. You’ll do this for me. Be pleasant to Sean, to his family. Make it right and maybe we’ll talk about what you’d like to do with your money.”

Make it right. What exactly would Sean need from me to make it right? I wondered. Looking at my father’s face, I realized it didn’t matter to him one bit.

After being dismissed from my father’s study, I drove to Meri’s. She’d been calling since last night and I owed her an explanation after disappearing on her. I was huddled on the couch in her living room, drinking tea because Meri was an elderly woman dressed as a millennial.

“Oh, Brit.” Meri rubbed my back as I hiccupped through another round of tears. “I’m so sorry. We’ll start looking for other places.”

I’d spoken to my realtor as soon as I got home, hoping for a miracle. Occasionally these things fell through—checks didn’t clear, or there were issues with deeds—and a property could end up back on the market. But the house sold to a developer from Watertown, one with a solid reputation and someone who would no doubt have the money to complete whatever plan they had for it. Maybe they’d even tear it down. That felt symbolic in the worst way.

“My father has basically revoked my trust. I can’t afford to buy a place on my salary, and all of my revenue from my business goes back into it. That’s how it works in the beginning.” My paid partnerships floated the cost of running the blog and my socials, with a little cushion to buy equipment and supplies. Which I now had nowhere to house.

I was proud of my success but it was hardly real estate investor money. I needed to keep my job at the mall to afford a place to live, which meant most of my weekends would be unavailable for makeup jobs. No one would ever take me seriously working out of my car, or my parents’ house anyway. I needed square footage, a sign on a post. That was the plan.

“I’ve made a hundred decisions leading up to this, Mer,” I said. “All based on the promise of that money coming to me. Now I’ve got a half-baked dream and no heat to cook with.”

Meri chewed her lip. Even she couldn’t find a way to spin this into the positive. “Maybe you could rent a space. You’ll be able to save a ton of money while staying with your parents.”

I groaned at what that meant for me, how I’d been home for one day and they’d already reminded me how my place with them was conditional. The thought of going back to that version of myself after all that had happened felt like a failure of epic proportions.

“Maybe everyone was right, Mer. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“That’s bullcrap and you know it. I’m not going to let you even think about giving up.”

I sighed. “I’m not. I’m just . . . re-evaluating. Everything.”

Meri took a slow sip from her teacup, studying me. “This isn’t about the house.”

Dual waves of heartache and comfort swamped me. She knew me so well. “You’re right. It’s about how everything I try to grab onto slips through my fingers.”

“Brit—”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said. A beat of silence passed with Meri’s gaze hardening and my lip between my teeth. Then I blurted it. “I slept with Nick.”

Her blue eyes popped open and she choked on her tea. “What!?”

“On the train, and like, a lot of times after that.” My chest squeezed with memories—Nick above me, his full grin pressed to my mouth. Nick’s arms wrapped around me while we slept. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Once it happened, we were kind of all up in each other’s personal space until . . . we weren’t. I couldn’t exactly call you.”

“You slept with your hot travel buddy?”

I sniffed a laugh at how trite that description was. It had maybe never been the case between us, but at least the last two days we were so much more than that. We were happy and together, and he said he wanted to do it forever. Yet, here we were.

Meri gave me a once-over—curled into the fetal position, makeup smeared and dangerously close to staining one of her throw pillows—and her eyes narrowed. “Tell me what he did.”

I knew what she was thinking and, of all things, protectiveness for Nick was my first reaction. I wanted to scream:He told me he wanted me, then changed his mind.But that wasn’t the whole truth, was it? I knew I’d forced his hand, but I also knew it was coming and I’d saved both of us the painful path to get there. And besides, he’d agreed, hadn’t he?

Maybe you’re right.

“He didn’t do anything,” I said, wondering where the truth was in all of these one-sided conversations I kept having in my head. But that was the thing. I’d given him the chance and he didn’t doanything.

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