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There was no doubt that it was always easier to see the solution for other people than for herself. Over the years she’d advised countless people about barely interested partners and advised them to walk away from those unwilling or unable to put in an equal amount of energy into a relationship. At least ten times she warned that one party couldn’t do their partner’s homework. You can only row your side of the boat. All the while she was proposing to Davis, buying her own engagement ring, and frantically trying to keep the stupid boat in one piece without realizing she was just treading water.
As she advised a soon-to-be bride that her refusal to let her fiancé have a bachelor party was more about fundamental trust issues than jealousy that he’d look at
half-naked women, her email pinged. From the heading she could see it was an alert on her name. Her blood turned to ice.“Not another one. Please.”
After the blog post calling her out for being a fraud, she hadn’t heard anything else. Taylor kept an eye on the views, and it hadn’t gotten more than a few hundred clicks, nor had it been reposted, as far as they could tell. Since the kiss, she’d been able to shove it in the back of her mind.
The post’s limited reach made Libby feel all the more ridiculous for having fallen apart. She didn’t need her psych degree or an advice column to tell her it had been more about her own guilt than the pandering accusation.
As she stared at the notification, the little bit of calm she’d allowed to took root in her chest was gone. There was a new article. A new source of humiliation. Let’s get it over with, she decided before clicking the link.
It wasn’t a gossip blog, as she expected, but a local online magazine hosting notifications about events in town. Libby furrowed her brow as she scrolled through the listings.
This has nothing to do with me, she thought, until she reached the concerts planned for the next few days at a small venue downtown. It was a glorified, standing-room-only hole in the wall, but she’d been there a few times to see some Indie bands with Davis.
When she finally found her name, it was linked to Davis’, who was apparently in town and playing a show with his band. At the sight of their names together, Libby’s stomach tightened. It was used to give context to Davis, who was described as the local love guru’s ex.
“Could’ve been worse,” Libby muttered aloud as she reached for the stainless-steel mug keeping her old co ee warm.
Deciding to be the bigger person, she opened her desk drawer and retrieved the phone in her bag. She was surprised to find texts waiting, but Reagan’s name sent her heart into overdrive.
Reagan: Haven’t heard from you . . . everything okay? Do you want to get together for dinner or something? I’m meeting a few friends for dinner. You’re welcome to come. Or we can get a drink before or after?
It was a loaded question, and she didn’t have the words to respond. She couldn’t untangle all the competing emotions fighting for control of her head and her heart. Finding herself attracted to a woman for the first time in her thirties was disorienting enough. The added fact that they’d started as a fraud and her love-starved being was reacting to feigned interest put it over the edge.
Libby: Yeah, totally fine. I can’t tonight, but I hope you have a great time with your friends!! I’m sure they miss you since I’ve been hogging your time for months.
She added a smiley face emoji to sell the light and airy tone.
Reagan: Okay. If you change your mind, here’s where we’ll be.
Knowing Imani, we’ll probably be there a while. She just broke up with someone. If you feel like dropping by, there will be ladies eager to learn all kinds of dating advice. lol.
Libby found herself smiling at the screen before replying with a non-committal we’ll see and opening a new message.
Since she’d deleted years’ worth of text messages, she was staring at a blank screen. Entering his number from muscle memory, she wondered if he might have changed it. She left it to the fates.
Libby: Can’t believe you’re playing The Revo. Congrats! Break a leg - L.
As soon as she hit send, her body flooded with heat and doubt. You can be friendly, she told herself. You’d look petty if
you didn’t wish him luck while he’s in town.
After several minutes of no response, Libby calmed, made a fresh cup of co ee, and got back to work. She worked on a new piece about maintaining intimacy when your in-laws are staying over for the holidays when her phone dinged.
She’d almost forgotten about the text when his reply turned her mouth dry.
Davis: Eli! Awesome to hear from you! You’re def coming to the show tonight, right??? I got you tix.
Libby furrowed her brow. They hadn’t talked in nearly a year and he hadn’t reached out before he got to town. Why would he have saved her tickets to a show she didn’t know about?
Libby: What? Did your crystal ball tell you I’d find out about it?
Davis: No! I sent you an email. Didn’t you get it?
Before responding, Libby checked her personal and work accounts. No messages in her inbox or junk folders. How had she forgotten that he was always a little full of shit. What else hadn’t changed? Before she could wonder too far, she remembered the major thing that had changed. He was engaged and it wasn’t to her.
Libby: I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do. Really, I just wanted to wish you luck.
