Page 34 of If the Stars Align
For a very brief moment, I feel free.
Until her mom’s narrow eyes shoot daggers at me. “You know, it wasn’t easy raising Sunny by myself. She missed out on something, I admit that. Two parents at home, and family dinners—that’s why she was always with you. Now, you might think you know my daughter best, but all she wants is stability, honey. A family, a home, a stable career.That’swhat’s most important to her.”
My head is throbbing. My hands start to twitch. Where thefuckis she going with this? I want to ask her, but no words come out. I definitely don’t feel like Dex right now.
“Dex, with your talent and good looks, you’re destined for fame and fortune,” she goes on. “If anyone can make it in show business, it’s you.”
She’s not the first person to assume I picked this path for the celebrity. But the glitz and glamour mean fucking nothing to me. Acting is the only thing that calms my anxiety—besides her daughter, Sunny. If I tell her that, I know she’ll judge me. I mean, who would want someone with such a horrible flaw to be their one and only son-in-law?
“Now, how many actors do you know with happy marriages?” she asks me. “There’s a reason celebrity divorce rates are sky-high. You’ll never be home. You’ll be surrounded by temptation. Gorgeous models and actresses flinging themselves at you wherever you go. And even if youarefaithful, there will be rumors. Your life will be tabloid fodder. AndSunny’s too. Is that really what you want for her? It’ll be damn-near impossible to maintain a successful relationship, much less give her the life she wants. The family she missed out on as a child. Think about it.”
Fuck my life. Is she right? No!“You don’t understand—Iloveher, though.”
“If you love her, honey, you’ll let her go.”
Then she gets in her car and drives away.
And with the heaviest heart…
I do the same.
He didn’t fight for me.
I spent the entire day after the wedding crying in my bed and waiting for Dex to ring the doorbell. To call me. Email me.
I would have settled for an AOL Instant Message.
Butnothing.
I couldn’t believe it, honestly. I know that I shouldn’t have ended things with the expectation that he would make some grand declaration of love for me and everything would work out perfectly…
But I’d be lying if I said that’s not exactly what I wished for.
When my mom came home from work later that evening, she found me still teary-eyed in bed.
“Sweetie, what’s the matter?” she asked, her voice brimming with concern. She hurried to my side and felt my forehead first, then put her fingers on my wrist to check my pulse. When she was confident I wasn’t dying, she asked me again. I couldn’t find the words.
“Did something happen at the wedding last night?” Shesighed heavily as she rubbed my back. “This has to do with Dex, doesn’t it.”
I didn’t say anything. I just wept in her arms.
I couldn’t remember the last time I sought comfort from her. Since I met Dex, I’ve only ever wanted to cry onhisshoulder. Now I couldn’t. And it was torture.
“Oh sweetheart, I tried to warn you about him,” my mom said tenderly, despite the biting nature of her words. I continued to sob. “You’ll get over him,” she added, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
At least she left for a work conference in Chicago the next morning, so I’ve been able to spend the past few days grieving in peace, without her judging me. But today is going to be rough; I’m meeting Mia to look at wedding dresses. She’s been asking me all summer, and I kept putting it off. Now I have to go, when it’s literally the last thing on Earth I want to do.
“Hey!” I say when I meet her at the bridal shop, giving her a massive hug. I figure if I take a page from her playbook and squeeze her extra-tight, she might believe I’m actually okay with this breakup—like I’ve tried to tell her on the phone already, twice. No. Three times. I didn’t give her many details. All I said was that Dex and I called it quits because of the distance.
Mia pulls back to look at me. I’m wearing white shorts and a bright yellow halter top. It’s the sunniest outfit I own. No broken hearts inthisbridal store.
She opens her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it. If I take control of the conversation, maybe she won’t ask me how I’m feeling.
“I thought your mom, or maybe one of your brothers might be with you,” I say. Mia’s the oldest of four, and the only girl in a big Italian family. I look around, but don’t see any of her relatives.
Mia laughs sheepishly. “I’m driving them crazy. I dragged them to five or six shops already this summer, and I still haven’t found a dress I love. My mom says I can keep looking, and if I find something good, to put it on hold.”
“Got it,” I say with a chuckle. “Have you settled on a style you like?”
