Page 128 of When I Picture You
“I know. But it felt like the right time. And Renee was really excited about it.”
“What happened? Gloriana changed your mind?” Tatiana asked.
Lola picked at her pizza crust. She was disappointed in herself that she’d agreed to Gloriana’s suggestion to wait, but in that moment, the feeling of safety had been more powerful. “It was more like Gloriana saw I had some doubts, and she made it okay to lean into them.”
“And you’d told Renee about those doubts?”
Lola thought back through their conversations. All the times she’d told Renee things were good, all the times she’d swept aside her anxieties in favor of bringing that smile to Renee’s face.
“I didn’t want to upset her,” Lola admitted. “The film meant a lot to her.”
“Lola.” Tatiana’s voice was stern. “I love you, but I’m dead tired of watching you do this. You get into these relationships and you slowly, slowly annihilate everything about yourself. It’s like you’d give up everything to make the other person happy.”
“That’s what youdoin a relationship,” Lola said, feeling wretchedagain. “You’re supposed to give everything, and I do—I did—and it wasn’t enough. Why is it never enough?”
“Have you ever considered thateverythingmight be too much? Maybe Renee didn’t want you to put her first like that. Maybe she wanted you to be partners. That can’t happen when you’re trying to control how she feels.”
“I wasn’t trying to control how she felt,” Lola sputtered.
“You just said you were trying to make sure she was happy all the time. That’s impossible, and it isn’t healthy. You can’t keep putting everyone else first and then blaming them when you don’t get what you want.”
“Was that supposed to be encouraging?”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in, like, hundreds of hours of therapy, it’s that if you don’t own it, you can’t learn from it. I want you to learn from this. You worked so hard to get out of that hole you fell into after Ava. Do you really want to keep going back to that place?”
“No.”
“Then don’t. You’re incredibly strong, Lola. You can do whatever you set your mind to. If that’s lying in bed, fine. But it doesn’t have to be.”
LOLA HUGGEDTATIANAtight, fully expecting to crawl back into bed once her car pulled out. But when she got to the top of the stairs, somehow she didn’t want to.
Lola wandered into her studio, bright with the late-day sun. The light felt good.
Maybe Tatiana had a point. Had she been repeating the same mistake?
As crushed as she was, Lola wasn’t about to rewrite history: more than anyone she’d been with, Renee had been invested in her happiness, and her comfort, and her pleasure, and she’d wanted Lola to be invested in those things too. With Kyte, she’d been too immature, and with Ava, too scared to ask for more. Renee had been different.
HadLolabeen different?
In some ways, yes. She’d been more at ease with Renee, more open and trusting. But she’d hidden things from her too: how out of place she’d felt at the Saint Satin show, or the nagging worry that she didn’t qualify as queer. She hadn’t explained why Gloriana’s arguments against coming out always somehow resonated with her.
Even if Tatiana was right that Lola should have shared her doubts with Renee, that wasn’t the only problem. Renee had gone behind her back to talk to Ava, which Lola should never have needed to forbid.
And Renee had left.
The iPad on the coffee table lit up with a notification. Lola’s heart lurched, then she chided herself. The text was from Ackerlund.
Where you been?
Below his text were several notifications from their shared server. He’d uploaded new versions of four songs.
All her work, wasted, because she made the wrong choices again and again.
In case indulging her pain would lessen it, Lola played “Starcrossed” for herself. It was like watching a carousel of memories of Renee, each lyric bringing to mind a moment, a touch, a shared glance. She played it again, just to see if that helped or made things worse, then again. On the fifth or sixth listen, the lyrics started to lose their meaning, and she focused on the song itself. It was good—great, even. It had number one potential for sure. Now no one would hear it.
Lola played it again. What if she wanted people to hear it?
Maybe it hurt to listen to it now, but it would only ever hurt unless she turned that pain into something more.
