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“It will be a way to take baby steps with Lilly. To show her what sort of boyfriend I can be. And finally get me out of the friend zone.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask her out?”
Dale does not understand what I am up against. A lifetime of being Lilly’s best friend.
“No, because if I make a move and Lilly doesn’t feel the same, it could all blow up in my face. Trust me, this is the way to go.”
“OK, I can’t wait to hear how this all plays out when it is over.”
I arrive home and use this as an opportunity to say goodbye to the pessimistic energy of Dale, and I think to myself, This is definitely the best path forward.
Now I just need to work on how I am going to spend the weekend pretending that my real feelings for Lilly are actually fake. With this circular logic floating around my head, wondering if this is what it always feels like in Lilly’s mind, I grin to myself. This weekend cannot come fast enough.
CHAPTER 23
Lilly
The next day, I do anything I can to keep my mind off Oliver and the realisation that I am a lovesick fool over him. So lovesick that I could write a country album right now, one about love realised too late, love found and lost. How did I let this happen? I think to myself as I clean my apartment from top to bottom, doing all the chores I normally put off, to keep my mind occupied. After the place is spotless, I then spend hours stress baking all my favourite foods, cupcakes, muffins, and three banana cakes to put in the freezer for another day. Once that is done, I flop onto the couch and try to distract myself by binge watching my favourite comfort show, The Great British Bake Off, but even the soothing tone of the baking judge extraordinaire, Paul Hollywood, cannot get my mind off what I have discovered. So, before I go to bed, I cave and send a text to Amy.
Lilly: SOS! Help! Shopping for revenge dress and girl talk needed!
Amy replies with a few emojis of hearts and talking faces and tells me she will come to my place in the morning for a stint of power shopping followed by a much-needed girl talk session. With this in place, I feel comforted enough to unwind, and after some tossing and turning, I fall into an Oliver-dream-filled sleep.
Amy arrives the next morning, armed with Instagram pages pinned with dresses she vows will look “perfect” on me, and bottles of wine for later to help us get through our impromptu therapy session.
“You’re the best!” I tell her, giving her a big hug at my front door.
“I know,” she says without a shred of modesty. “You’d be lost without me,” she adds with a cheeky grin. “Now let’s get you a revenge dress so sexy it will knock Sebastian’s ugly socks off!” She was never a fan of Sebastian, and it would seem that even his socks cannot escape her wrath.
Already feeling better, I grab my bag and put on some comfortable shoes, knowing Amy will extract the most shopping time as possible out of this excursion and wanting to avoid sore feet and blisters at all costs.
Once at the shops, Amy takes charge, dragging me in and out of stores until we finally find “the one.” The Perfect Dress. A dress so beautiful that just looking at it, I know I have to make it mine. And then once I have it on my body, I do not want to take it off; it fits me like a glove. So much so that it feels like someone made the dress with me specifically in mind. When I come out of the dressing room, Amy squeals and claps, letting me know she agrees.
“You look amazing, Lil,” she gushes, making me spin around so she can see the back. “Please tell me you love this one.”
As she takes pictures of me to send to Madi and Sammi, who are waiting to give their fashion opinions, I grin as I look at myself in the mirror, peering around to see the dress from all angles. I picture Oliver’s face when he sees me in the dress and know that I would sell a kidney, if need be, to make it mine.
I hand over my credit card, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the ridiculous amount of money I am spending, and force myself to think of it as an investment instead. Every girl needs a dress like this once in her lifetime. For some, it is their wedding dress. For me, it is this one, which it would seem, costs about as much as a wedding dress.
By the look on Amy’s face, I can tell she agrees. “The girls both give this dress a huge thumbs up.” She shows me the chain of text messages filled with emojis of smiley faces with heart-shaped eyes.
“And remember, you work hard for your pay cheque, so you deserve this.” When she sees the look I am giving her, she revises her statement, “OK, well you work for your pay cheque. And at a horrible, dead-end job. You 100 percent deserve this.” I agree with this sentiment, and with a lot of care, I grab my precious cargo, dragging Amy out of the store before she can even think of looking at any shoes, handbags, or jewellery.
Once home, I hang the dress in my closet, spending a few seconds just stroking the fabric with my fingertips, before I settle on the couch with Amy. While I was busy doing this, Amy took it upon herself to put out a platter of my latest baked creations and has poured us each a glass of wine. Once comfortable, she spears me with a look and says, “OK, talk.”
I take a deep breath and blurt out, “I think I’m in love with Oliver!”
Amy blinks at me, her wine glass paused halfway to her lips. “And?”
“What do you mean, and?” I say in a huff. How can she not see how monumental this discovery is for me? Mind-blowingly monumental.
“Well, Lilly, I thought you were going to confess something to me I didn’t already know.”
Dumbfounded, I stare at her for a moment, shoving a cupcake in my mouth while Amy chews on her cookie, looking at me thoughtfully.
“You know?” I ask after taking a minute to compose myself.
“Lilly, we all know. Madi, Sammi, and I talk about it all the time! You’ve been in love with Oliver since you were sixteen years old. We always thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it. How could you not know?”
