Page 151 of My Lucky Charm

“I don’t want to be a downer,” I say.

Poppy reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Okay, but you don’t have to pretend everything is great all the time either. Your heart is so big, Eloise. And so tender.”

“And you just keep giving pieces of it away.” Raya’s face is earnest, not judgmental.

I feel like I’m going to start crying again. I whimper, “So, what do I do?”

“I think you have to let it all out,” Poppy says.

“All of it?” I think all the way back to Trevor Mackey, the first guy who broke my heart. So many failed attempts since then. Is she saying I need to have feelings about all of them?

“Let yourself feel sad,” Poppy says.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.” Poppy squeezes my shoulder. “You have to feel the pain in order to heal.”

I know she’s right.

“Maybe you should talk about it?” Raya asks.

I look at her through my tear-filled eyes. “You don’t talk about your feelings.”

“I do,” she says. “To my therapist.”

I frown. “You have a therapist?”

“You have a therapist?” Poppy parrots.

“Everyone should be in therapy,” she says. “But since we don’t have a therapist on call right now, maybe talking to us tonight will help.”

So far, it has. Even though my emotions are a raw nerve, I feel somehow. . .unburdened of at least some of this weight.

So, I try to articulate, but my voice hitches. “I feel like I’ve been giving away small pieces of my heart for years, and I—” fresh tears spill— “I haven’t found a single person who’s taken care of it.”

I try to breathe through the wave of emotions. “Every time I’ve been in a relationship, I always thought there was the possibility of it lasting forever. I had hope. Every time.” I grab a new pile of Kleenex. “But that’s not how most people approach dating these days.”

“That’s true,” Raya says. “It’s awful out there.”

We both look at her because as far as we know, Raya is not dating.

She holds up both hands. “My co-workers tell me their horror stories. It’s enough to make me contemplate joining a convent.”

I sigh. “I thought my life would look so different by now, I guess.”

I try to blow my nose, but it’s completely stuffed now, another reason I hate crying. “I thought I’d find . . . I don’t know . . .” I trail off. “Someone who looks at me the way Dad looks at Mom, maybe.”

I think about the love that’s been modeled for us. Our parents are each other’s best friends. True partners in every sense of the word.

I sniff. “And I guess I thought if I kept trying, eventually I’d have to find it. I mean, the odds are better when you put yourself out there, right?”

“Unfortunately, when you put yourself out there, you open yourself up to a lot more heartache.” When Raya says this, I know she’s speaking from experience. Unlike me, Raya does not wear her heart on her sleeve. She’s cautious and measured. So, heartbreak stings a little differently for her, I think. And all at once, I realize that I’ve been pressuring her to date the same way she pressures me to grow up or be professional.

I’m not going to do that anymore. Because this is hard. Feelings are hard.

“I want what Mom and Dad have.” I look at Poppy. “What you and Dallas have. I know it’s naive, but even getting knocked down all these times doesn’t make me want to give up on it.”

Poppy rubs my arm in a comforting, slow motion. “Then don’t give up on it.”

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