Page 114 of Ten Rules for Faking It
Chris shook his head. “I hope not. I’ve had my head down, working toward this goal for so long, I never stopped to make sure I still wanted it. I came here to prove something toyou,but instead, I found out who I am. Having it all means something entirely different to me than it does to you. I don’t want to fill your shoes. I want to walk in my own. Good luck with your wedding.”
Chris pressed End before his father could say anything more. He was too tired for any more circles. That chapter was closed. The rest would play out however it would, but he knew now, professionally, he’d be okay. He always thought he needed his father’s backing, his approval. He didn’t discount how lucky he was to have the opportunities given to him, but in each of those roles, he’d been the one doing the heavy lifting. He’d done the work, risen in the ranks, and still never received an ounce of appreciation from his father. So he’d go it alone, or he’d work for someone else. Either way, he’d survive professionally. The mostimportant thing he’d learned was that what he did for a living was not how he wanted to be defined.
When he thought of what kind of man he wanted to be, the answer was simple: the kind that deserved Everly’s trust, heart, and love.
[38]
More than all the things she wished at this moment, Everly wished Stacey hadn’t followed her all the way into her apartment. She felt like that game from when she was a kid—Operation. One slip, one wrong touch, and everything would go off inside of her. She wanted to be alone when it did.
She slipped her shoes off, tossed her keys somewhere near the hook, and went to the couch. She snagged the stupid squishy cat she freaking loved off the coffee table and sank into the corner.
“You want some tea?”
“No, thanks. You can go. I’m fine. I’ll text you later.” The fact that she got that many words out in a row made her proud. She could hang on a few more minutes. She flexed her hand.In, out, in, out.
“Ev, talk to me.”
She clenched her hand so the cat’s head sort of squeezed out of her fist.Nope. No more talking.She wouldn’t get through it. Her mind was spinning with facts.Dad owns the station, not who he said he was, never intended to stay, divorced.
“What the hell is that thing? It’s creeping me out!” Stacey walked across the room and leaned over Everly, looking down at her hand.
“Stress cat.” Everything was building inside of her. She could actually feel it piling up. Her emotions were a tower ofcards; the slightest breeze would send her crashing down, but all she could do was watch. Wait for it to happen.
“That’s weird.”
She let out a strangled laugh. “Yup.”
“Evs.”
She shook her head, closed her eyes and her fist as tightly as possible. The couch shifted, and Stacey’s side was plastered to hers. She breathed through her nose.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stacey whispered.
The card tower tumbled. Slowly at first, a few tears trickling from beneath closed lids. Her friend’s sharp inhale released the rest, and then she couldn’t see even with her eyes open. Everything was blurry and wet, and she couldn’t squeeze the cat hard enough to stop the sob that escaped.
When Stacey’s arm came around her, she caved and leaned into the hug. To her credit, Stacey didn’t try to talk her through it. She just held on, and that’s what Everly did, too. She held on and let all the cards scatter.
The litany of awkward moments that lived in her head on repeat—her parents, Simon with a woman on top of him, announcing her failure on the air, the goddamn piñata full of condoms, the first piñata full of distraction and devastation, her parents’ back-and-forth, back-and-forth, their faces when she said she’d had enough. Chris.
Her chest ached and her face was soaked, and still Stacey didn’t let go. Everly would die of mortification later, but for these few moments, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She had no idea how long it was before her tears ran dry. By the time they did, her entire body ached and she’d all but molded her body to Stacey’s. The feel of her friend’s hand stroking her hair was so soothing, she closed her eyes. Just a few more minutes and she’d pull herself together. Just a few more minutes.
Everly’s eyes felt like they’d been glued shut and sprinkled with salt. She blinked and got stuck in that hazy moment of knowing something was wrong but not being sure what.
She turned her head and realized she was lying on her couch, facing the back of it. Instead of sitting up, she shifted and turned over, saw Stacey sitting in the chair across from the couch, a book in her hand, a cup of tea on the table in front of her, and Everly’s notebook beside it.
Her mouth felt like she’d eaten sandpaper, but she licked her lips and managed a gravelly, “Hey.”
Stacey smiled and put the book down. Everly realized she was covered by the blanket she kept on the back of the couch. She worked herself into a sitting position, still too groggy for the embarrassment to swallow her whole. That would come next. Once she was all the way awake to appreciate it.
“How’re you doing?” Stacey’s voice was soft. It made Everly smile because it was so different from her gregarious tone that infused people with happiness.
“I feel like I swallowed and bathed in sand. What are you still doing here?” Everything rushed back.Kissing Chris. Work. Angry man. Lies. New York. Stacey following her. Sobbing. Stacey’s date!“Your date with Rob. What time is it?” More awake now, she sat up straighter and pulled the blanket in front of her to fold it.
“I’ve rescheduled,” Stacey said, eyeing her in a very strange way.
Everly groaned. She probably looked like she’d been hit by a truck. Crying was never pretty, but falling asleep before cleaning herself up was something she didn’t want to imagine. Unfortunately for her friend, she was staring right at her. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry. Please don’t reschedule for me.”
