Page 67 of How to Break My Heart
I shake my head to wake myself up. My head is throbbing, but I try my best to come up with a response. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I look at couples who have been married for like fifty years. There has to be more to it, right? Like, is love enough?”
“I think love has different elements and layers,” I begin. Then release a shallow sigh before saying, “It’s companionship, equality, respect, and connection. When you’re old, sex isn’t going to be what keeps you together. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, marry your best friend,” she murmurs, dropping her gaze to her lap. “My parents are not an example of a good marriage.”
I don’t want to agree with her, but it is the truth. Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont are anything but loving toward each other. Again, I have no idea why they don’t just call it quits. Their kids are grown, so it’s not like divorce would be a big deal.
“Break the cycle, Maddy. Just because they choose to be miserable doesn’t mean you have to.”
Maddy nods. “It’s been a long day.”
“It certainly has. But your dress is amazing, and that’s another thing checked off your list.”
She laughs. “You meanourlist?”
“Right,ourlist.” I laugh a little too obnoxiously. “Thanks for reminding me.” I let out a hiccup.
“And you’re buzzed.” Maddy falls into a fit of laughter again. “Will you be okay? I need to meet Myles for dinner. I kind of want to bail, but we haven’t spent much time together with everything going on, so I feel bad.”
“And hot pre-wedding sex?”
“I told you, we’re holding off.”
“Bummer,” I complain, then open the door of the car. “I’ll be fine. Have fun at dinner.”
Maddy drives off by the time I reach my door. I take a quick shower inside my apartment and throw on some sweats with a tank top. Considering it’s cold outside, my body is overheating like I’ve run a marathon.
The headache refuses to dissipate, and after searching my cupboards for medication, I come up empty-handed. I let out a groan, grabbing my beanie and a thick coat to wear over my tank.
My sneakers sit at the door, so I stop to put them on, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror before pulling on my coat. “Son of a bitch,” I bark upon noticing my nipples stand out beneath my white tank. Walking back to my bedroom to find a bra is too much effort, so I button up my coat to cover the ladies.
No one has to know.
The grocery store is a block from my place, and at this hour, it’s blissfully quiet—most people are home by now, settling in for dinner. The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead, casting a cool glow over the empty aisles as I grab the essentials and toss them into the basket. The faint smell of freshly baked bread lingers in the air as I make my way through the store. When I reach the self-checkout, the silence is comforting, brokenonly by the gentle beeps as I scan each item—the sound oddly soothing.
I exit the grocery store and step outside into the cold, only to bump into another body.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry!”
“Eva?” the voice says, forcing me to glance up. Marco’s sheepish grin catches my attention. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”
I hug my grocery bag close to my body. “You look well. And before you think it, I look like crap. It’s been one hell of a week.”
Marco chuckles, his handsome smile lightening my mood. “Is everything okay?”
“I guess. I’ve been busy planning this wedding, which has been harder than I thought. Today, I spent six whole hours watching Maddy try on dresses. By the end of it, I was so wasted on champagne that I’m now expecting the worst hangover.”
“Ah, hence the Tylenol and”—he reaches for my grocery bag—“burritos?”
“The cure to any hangover,” I reply with a small laugh, then sigh. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called either. There’s a new strain of flu going around, so the clinic has been going nonstop.”
“So I’ve heard. Chloe wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I sent her home. The last thing Billie and I need is to catch a virus. I’m so ready for winter to be over.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that this week.”
