Page 40 of Banter & Blushes

I buried my face in my hands, feeling the full weight of my impending doom. “Joe, you’re giving me the worst advice on the planet.”

“Well, you asked for it, buddy,” Joe replied, totally unbothered. “I’m just telling you how it worked for me. You’ll thank me later. Trust me.”

The line went dead, and I stared at the phone in disbelief, shaking my head. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that Joe actually thought his advice was good or the fact that I was considering using some of it just tosee if it worked.

As for itworkingfor him? Please. The man is still painfully, impossibly single—like a tragic hero in a romance novel who can’t seem to get it right, no matter how many times he tries.

With a sigh, I stood up and paid for my drink, feeling more depressed than ever. My brain was a jumble of tacos, condos, and ridiculous, well-meaning advice from the least qualified person on the planet.

And through it all, Rebecca was still... out there.

I had no idea how to fix this. But one thing was for sure—whatever I tried next, itdefinitelywasn’t going to involve tacos, roses, or pretending to be some rich guy with a vacation home.

THE PRICE OF RUNNING AWAY

REBECCA

Ihad done it. I had made the decision. I was going to distance myself from Luca. I told myself it was for the best—told myself it was because I needed to keep my life together, keep my focus on my career, on things thatmade senserather than this whirlwind romance with a man nearly ten years younger than me. But deep down, I knew the truth—I was miserable about it.

It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Luca was a good guy. He was. He wasamazing—a total sweetheart who cooked like a magician and made me laugh in ways I didn’t think I could anymore. But that was the problem. He was too perfect. And I was too...me. A woman who had convinced herself that love was something that happened to other people, not to someone like me, with baggage and priorities that didn’t fit into his world. He deserved someone who wasn’t constantly second-guessing herself.

Still, here I was, slumping in the back passenger seat with Maya, miserable and full of regret, as the taxi driver takes us to our next vacation destination for the day.

We were heading to a shopping district on the other side of town, far away from Luca and his restaurant. Maya had insisted.“You need a distraction,”she’d said, practically dragging me out of my hotel room.“A girl’s only day! You can’t just sit around moping, and you definitely can’t keep thinking about that guy.”

It’s not like I wasn’t trying. I really was. But every time I picked up a cutepair of shoes or tried on a ridiculously over-priced handbag, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted Luca to see me in those shoes. I wanted him to be there with me, laughing at how I was totally out of my depth in a store where everything cost more than my rent. But of course, I wasn’t letting myself have that. No, I was letting this whole “distance” thing take control.

“Okay, tell me again why you’re torturing yourself with all this shopping for things we can never afford?” Maya’s voice cut through my spiral of thoughts, and I turned to see her giving me a look that was part exasperation, part amusement.

I sighed dramatically, feeling the weight of the decision crushing me. “Because you said I needed a distraction, and I don’t know what else to do. Besides, these shoes are cute, and I’m pretty sure they’ll make me feel better—at least until I look at my phone and see if Luca texted me.But he won’t, because he’s probably forgotten all about me.”

Maya raised an eyebrow, then shook her head with a sigh. “You’re such a mess. You know, if you’re going to keep this up, at least buy something semi-expensive. Make it worth your while.”

“Fine,” I muttered, halfheartedly eyeing a pair of sparkly heels on the shelf, but I couldn’t even summon the energy to pretend to care about them. “But it’s not about the shoes. It’s about... the fact that I’m about to go back to myreallife. Myvery singlelife.”

“Uh-huh.” Maya dragged her fingers over a rack of dresses with the kind of expert indifference only she could manage. “And that very single life is about to be filled with what exactly? Work? Please don’t say work.”

I shot her a look. “What else am I going to do, Maya? I’m agrown-up. I can’t just dive headfirst into some vacation fling that’s never going to work.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed a glittery dress at me. “No one’s asking you to marry him at the local courthouse tomorrow. But you do know that this whole ‘I can’t be with Luca’ thing is making youmiserable, right?”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You’reso not fine. Look at you. You’re moping around like a puppy that just got kicked in the face. And, don’t lie, you’ve already checked your phone, like, six times.”

I blinked, horrified, before realizing she was totally right. “I was checking my email,” I muttered, trying to pretend I wasn’t obsessively refreshing the messages in hopes that one of them would be from Luca.

“Uh-huh. Sure you were. And when you checked your email, did you see a text from him?” Maya’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

I paused, biting my lip, then sighed again. “No.”

“Shocker. Look, Becky, I get it. You don’t want to get all tangled up with a younger guy, blah blah blah. But you’rekillingyourself with this. Do you really think Luca’s the one who’s going to end up hurt in all this? You’re the one torturing yourself.”

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep up on me. “It’s just that... Ican’t imagine anything working. Like, what are we supposed to do after this vacation is over? He’s in his twenties. I’m almost forty. I’m too...setin my life to take on something like this. And it’s not just the age thing. It’s theeverythingthing. I don’t even know what I want long-term. I have this career that I’ve worked so hard for, and... and Luca is just—Luca. What does he want? Does he even want something serious?”

“Becky.” Maya’s voice dropped, and she shot me a sharp look, her hand resting on her hip as if she were about to give me one of her usual “you’re being ridiculous” speeches. “So, you’re telling me that after all this time—after everything you’ve been through—thisis what you’re going to go back to? A job? A routine? A life that’s full ofnothingbut work?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I didn’t have an answer. Because she was right.

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