The “bro” sounds so unnatural from Tavey, I nearly laugh again.
Only Tavey can make me laugh.
Especially when I don’t want to. And when I think about Holly, laughing is the last thing I want to do.
I’m not sure what I want to do, but I know laughing isn’t it.
“I assure you, she is not. It’s just business.”
“She dressed up to come see you on a Saturday morning. With her hair up and her makeup on. In that cute little dress. She put effort into that. And that was before she saw how jacked you’ve gotten.”
I don’t argue with Tavey, but just let it go. Tavey hadn’t seen what Holly looked like when she was lecturing. Today was nothing compared to that.
Which just proves what I already know: Holly isn’t the least bit interested in me.
I’m the first person to admit I know nothing about women, but I do know I’m absolutely not the kind of man any woman would want to be around, romantically or platonically.
Besides, Tavey is as stubborn as I am and can’t admit when she’s wrong.
The only reason Holly is even working with me is because her ex-husband is making her.
Chapter 11
Holly
Iknow when I’m getting in my own way. When I’m in my own head too much. When my fear of failure is pushing me down the long dark road of procrastination.
Yeah. I know.
The best way to deal with all that stuff is to sit my butt down, make a list, plan out some kind of reward, and then work my way down the list.
This is what works for me, at least.
It’s what got me through grad school. It’s what got me through my thesis. It’s even what got me through my divorce.
And if I can make a list that starts with “find a lawyer,” ends with “buy my own house,” and has “divorce Clive” smack-dab in the middle, then I can certainly make a list that starts with “email Max” and ends with “send Max a congratulations card and then forget him forever.”
Nothing was harder than leaving Clive.
Okay, that’s a lie. Losing a baby I desperately wanted to an ectopic pregnancy was way harder.
Recovering from that was way harder. Realizing that putting my life back together meant ending a relationship that was making me miserable was the only path to recovery. Choosing to not run home to my family afterwards. Yeah, all of that was harder.
Way harder.
If I can do all those things, then I can make darn sure Max wins that fellowship.
But . . . you know . . . ADHD and fear of rejection means I put off starting my FIX MAX to-do list for several days.
In my defense, I have a lot on my plate. Things I’ve been working on for years.
Saturday, after the naked-chest/social media debacle, Liz came over and helped me finish the massive cleaning and organization project to get my house ready for the home visit from the social worker.
Most of the week itself was taken up with the normal routine of classes and office hours, but with the added nerve-wracking adventure of the home visit.
And then, suddenly, by Wednesday, my master to-do list was empty and I was left with nothing to think about except the fact that the deadline for the McPherson Fellowship is still looming. Max still isn’t ready. And no amount of procrastination on my part is going to help.
So I make the list.
