Page 6 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

‘How’d she get through it without being on pins and needles?’

‘In her defense, she’s much more normal than us. She’s only got the usual anxiety. Not our sharedmy family is so fucked up I’d literally rather die than spend a holiday together.’

Yep. We both have that. Mercy’s anxiousness stems from a rough childhood, whereas mine is from being the daughter of a woman constantly in the spotlight. I’ve never been able to live up to my famous musician mother, and that’s created some issues I wish it hadn’t.

‘She said after she calmed down, she just knew,’ Mercy continues, her face now scrunched in disgust. ‘She felt it in her bones or some shit. Sounds painful if you ask me.’

Mercy can’t have a conversation without everyone around her knowing exactly how she feels. She’s honestly herself. No hesitations and no apologies and I love her for it.

My phone dings with an incoming text. ‘Maybe that’s finally Vic!’ I glance at the notification box. ‘Never mind. Just River.’

River is my younger brother. We talk every day. Mostly so he can annoy me or gross me out with some meme he insists is hilarious.

After moving to Seattle, I pulled away from my parents. I needed a life of my own. One where I wasn’t constantly in the shadow of my mother. I could never let River go, though. He keeps me sane and makes me feel like I’m not alone.

‘Is icky Vicki ghosting you out of jealousy or what? I know she always thought she’d be the first of the two of you to get married, but when you’re a bitch—’

‘She’d never do that. Something’s off, though. First, she dumped Isaac. Then she stopped calling. I may need to set up an intervention soon.’

‘Didn’t realize there was an intervention for being hoity-toity as fuck.’

Mercy doesn’t love Victoria and vice versa. The three of us have kind of a best friend triangle. I met Victoria in college; we were roommates and got close enough I’d consider her my Seattle BFF. While Mercy is more like the sister I never had. She’s got no reason to be jealous, but I get it. Vic gets more facetime than Mercy since we live in two different states.

I stop in front of the restaurant – one of my favorites, FireFly – and take a deep cleansing breath, but it doesn’t cleanse much. I can do this. It’s just me and Tristan taking our relationship to the next level.

‘Remember when you met Tristan?’ Mercy asks.

The day I met Tristan, I was a sophomore in college, and my eyes were glued to him the second I walked into American Literature 101. To my surprise, I beelined to a seat in the front row. Usually, I’m a back-row kind of girl. But the man was Clooney gorgeous. A real silver fox. I wanted to be closer to him. He seemed to have obvious life experience, which is what I wanted. Life experience that wasn’t mine and I needed to know more.

More is what I got when I found myself in his office a few weeks later, hiding in his closet, half-naked, hoping the Dean didn’t walk around his desk and see my bra hanging off the handle of one of his desk drawers when he stopped by for a surprise visit to check in on Tristan’s classes.

Yep, I was a student, and he was my professor. It was all very Aria and Ezra ofPretty Little Liars, college edition. Sure, he was nearly twenty years my senior, but we were both adults, and it was love at first sight.

‘I loved him the moment I saw him.’

‘Not possible,’ Mercy says. ‘But I remember. It was puke worthy.’ She sticks her finger in her mouth as if forcing herself to vomit. ‘Here you are, eight years later. I might not like him and think you can do a thousand percent better, but if you’re happy, I support you in saying yes and becoming the next Mrs Hollyn Wells, thethird.’

Ugh. When she says it like that, it makes me second guess everything. I’ve tried to forget that Tristan has been married before. Twice. I’m seriously dating Ross Geller.

‘Do you still feel what you felt all those years ago?’

‘Um—’ Do I? I think I do. I know love isn’t all clouds and rainbows forever, but love is love. Right?

‘Hello? I think you froze.’ Mercy shakes her phone, the screen bouncing around her hotel room.

‘No, I’m here. Just—’ Freaking out, wondering if I should do this? How do you even feel something in your bones? ‘I’m panicking, Merc. What if this isn’t right?’

If I fall into a complete panic attack on the sidewalk, I will die.

‘Deep breaths, Hols.’

I follow her orders, leaning against the corner of the brick building, taking long deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. Just like my therapist has suggested.

‘Don’t you think you’d have figured out you didn’t love him before now? Eight years into it?’

‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ I hope.

A car pulls up, Tristan sits in the cab’s back seat.

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