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“I know that, Mother.”
“And Valentine seems perfectly happy. And that’s all anyone can ask for.”
“Really? Because when I was growing up, you made it perfectly clear that my happiness depended upon how successful I was in life and thus how proud I made you.”
“Jesus,” Mom murmured under her breath.
Things were about to go south very quickly.
A sharp ringing from the TV on the wall behind Jim jolted us.
“Oh, thank God,” Jim muttered. “That’ll be Val.” He tapped his phone as he turned toward the TV and suddenly Valentine’s beautiful beaming face was on the screen.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” she cried, waving at us.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” we called back.
I was so busy staring at her face it took me a minute to register the background.
“Where are you?” Jim asked.
Although it was dark out, there were palm trees blowing in the breeze behind her.
And she was wearing a white dress.
Valentine giggled. “I have a surprise. I’m in Cancun.”
“Mexico?” Caroline asked, leaning toward the screen. Her face paled. “Valentine… what is that on your left hand?”
Her dimples popped as dread filled me.
She raised her left hand, showing off the gold wedding band, and then there was a guy stepping into the shot. A guy in a tuxedo. Holding her close. Like she was his. “Louis and I got married!”
The room erupted.
Dazed, I barely registered what was being shouted at the television by both parents and grandparents.
Valentine had only been seeing this guy for three months.
He was a comic bookstore owner. That’s all I’d known about him.
Her parents thought he was a loser.
Her grandparents changed their tune. Valentine was wasting her life.
I could hear her arguing with them but I couldn’t look at her.
I got up out of my seat and was leaving the room when I heard her shout at them she didn’t need their approval. From the way the four of them turned on each other, I assumed Valentine had cut off the video.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I grabbed my coat with my car keys, and rushed outside for a deep gulp of crisp, cold fresh air.
Stopping for a minute on the front lawn, I tried to catch my breath.
Instead, my mom caught up with me.
“Micah.”
I turned to her.
I guess everything I was feeling must have showed because her face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
Somehow Mom was embracing me and I was holding on as tight as I could. Tears burned in my eyes and throat until finally I had to leave or I was going to lose it.
As I drove back to Boston that night, I vowed I would stop loving Valentine and finally, finally move the fuck on.
6
Valentine
AGE 26
* * *
Over the years, I’d told myself I’d give up my addiction.
It was always a lie.
And for the millionth time, I found myself internet stalking Micah Green.
Scrolling through his Instagram, I think a masochistic part of me got off on the unbearable sense of longing and regret I felt every time I saw his smile. Like I thought I deserved to feel that way for having screwed up my early twenties. Not that removing people who make you feel bad about yourself is screwing up. Like my parents, Micah wrote me off as a failure, something my brief marriage and subsequent divorce only seemed to prove to them.
My grandparents were a little more forgiving, so I still had contact with them. Dad tried. He never stopped trying. And honestly, I think it would break my heart all over again if he did. Yet, there was a huge part of me that didn’t trust him not to hurt me.
I snorted bitterly. There was a huge part of me that didn’t trust anyone not to hurt me.
Sometimes I didn’t even trust myself.
It was hard to after throwing yourself into one romantic relationship after the other, hoping to forget the object of your unrequited love. I guess I thought if I was enthusiastic enough that I would really fall in love with one of them. I talked myself into being in love with my ex-husband, Louis. But Louis turned out to be a giant man-child. And he cheated on me. The only good thing that came from our relationship was Mindy.
I’d met my best friend Mindy at one of Louis’ theme nights at the comic store. We both loved retro clothing and we both designed and created our own. It took us a few years to save and get our finances in place, but we finally opened our dream boutique clothing store.
And it was an enormous hit in the neighborhood. Plus, we made a killing because of our large Instagram following. We’d had to employ a small team of seamstresses and admin staff just to help us fulfill our online orders.
I’d proven my parents and Micah wrong. While I’d cut my parents out of my life after my marriage (and subsequent divorce) Micah had cut me out of his life. For a while I wondered (hoped?) that maybe my feelings weren’t unrequited and he was angry and hurt. Like the way he’d look at me sometimes. Or the night at prom when I could have sworn he was going to kiss me. And the way he reacted to Dillan, the idiot boss I had a short fling with. After Micah had left that day and I’d calmed down, I wondered if it was jealousy that made him lash out at me. I went back and forth, arguing with myself that what I’d felt from him in those moments was real, and that what I’d felt was just me projecting my unrequited feelings on him.
