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“Same. He’s gonna be so proud of you, Olliepus. You know that, right?”
I don’t know that. The thought hasn’t even occurred to me. I'm so scared for him—for us—I’ve stopped trying to even imagine a future.
“He loves you.”
“Yeah?”
“The way he looks at you. God… do you even know?”
I nod, my eyes misting.
“Can you forgive him?” she asks, shocking the hell out of me.
“What do you mean?”
“For not being perfect. For letting himself get so bad.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“It’s not yours either,” she says.
“El…” I start to pull away, but she locks me firmly in place. A tear slips down my face, and I stare at her like Great. Thanks for that.
“He’s gonna need for you to forgive him,” she tells me. “For you to trust him.”
I frown at her. “How do you know this?”
“You think I survived the death of a parent and my father without a few inpatient stints? Think again. He’s gonna feel like a burden. Like you’d be better off without him.”
“Fuck…can we talk about this later?”
“Just promise me to fight for him. You both deserve it. What you found is really special. I hope I find someone like you one day.”
The irony of my wife telling me that on our wedding night does not escape me.
“I promise. And I’ll never stop fighting for you, either.”
We spend the night at the Plaza, eating wedding cake and plotting our escape.
When we wake up, it’s to a press release.
The Secret Life of Socialites by Olivier Arnaud & Elodie Lafayette.
And a text from my mother containing a screenshot of the Publisher’s Marketplace announcement with the message What the hell did you do?
Elodie gives my screen the middle finger and cackles. “Should we see if they’ll have us over for brunch after the honeymoon?”
“Hell yeah, we should.” Adrenaline pumping hard through my carved-out heart, I type out my response.
When we get home, why don’t you let us tell you about it over brunch?
50
DREW
Idon’t mind therapy, but I don’t much care for group therapy. I’ve been a private person all my life and having strangers without degrees weigh in on my experiences like they have something to offer initially rubs me the wrong way.
Turns out there is wisdom in random strangers, though, and hope, too, that there’s another side to all this.
