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Sitting beside him in that car, I’d felt...safe. Like we’d formed a weird little bond over the strangeness of the event. Like we were companions in some messed-up escapade.
But I don’t have space in my head to think about that now. I have bigger fish to fry.
Thank God, most of my things are stashed in boxes in my mother’s garage. I’d been living between my childhood home and Mike’s apartment in Docklands until we could find a place of our own. Given the circumstance, I should be perfectly happy for him to burn anything of mine in his possession if it means not seeing him again.
But there’s one problem with that.
My grandmother’s watch is at his place. I’d decided against wearing it on my wedding day, because it didn’t really look right with the dress, but I wore it every other day of my life. It’s almost tattooed onto my skin and I feel lost without it.
Ihaveto get it back.
But I need my strength first. I need time to decompress and get my head back on my shoulders. Figure out where I’m headed now that every plan I had for my future is like ashes blowing through my fingers.
“I’m going to save you all the corny lines about more fish in the sea and all that bullshit,” Drew says. “But I will say this—you’re better off without him.”
I nod. My eyes feel like they’re being jabbed with hot pokers, but I won’t cry. What if I hadn’t heard him and we’d gotten married, only to be blindsided a few years down the track? This is painful...but it’s the better of two shitty options.
“I know,” I say with a determined nod.
“It sucks, Pres. I know it sucks so freaking hard.” She puts her hand on my arm. “But it doesn’t matter what anyone says. Or what they think. Youknowyou did the right thing getting out of there and now you’ve got another chance.”
“I don’t want another chance. Two strikes is enough.” My voice shakes with the intensity of my feelings, as though I’m repulsed by the idea of attempting love again. Maybe Iamrepulsed by it. “I amnotdoing this again. Ever.”
She bobs her head slowly in a way that tells me she’s taking my words with a grain of salt.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” I say, sinking back against the couch and throw cushions. “I have no plan.”
“Good!” Drew pats me in a way that somehow managesnotto be condescending. “You’ve had a bloody plan about everything from the second you came out of the womb. Maybe some time without a plan isexactlywhat you need.”
“I can’t function without a plan.”
I’m that person who picks her outfits out a week at a time, hanging each one neatly in the order they’ll be worn. I carry a diary with me everywhere and my whole life is jotted down, with goals and milestones and daily tasks: drink eight glasses of water, read at least fifty pages of a book, do ten thousand steps. I track, assess, grade and achieve.
It’s what I’ve always done.
“Try it.” Drew leans back and sips her drink. “You’ve got thirty days before Abby comes back. I challenge you to go a whole month without a plan.”
“But—” I splutter. “What will I do?”
“Anything.” Drew says the word like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“What happens when Abby comes back?” My brain is shuddering at the thought, wildly popping up ideas so that I can sooth myself with certainty.
“You’ll figure it out. You can go to Mum’s for a while before you try to find a new place. I’m sure Flynn would let you stay with us, if you’d prefer that. God, Sherilee’s house is a fucking mansion from what I’ve heard. You. Have. Options.”
“Options,” I repeat, like a dazed parrot. “I have options.”
“Take this as a chance to just...live.”
It’s terrifying, but at the same time there’s a hint of something tempting there. Clearly my perfectly planned, everything-written-down way of life hasn’t worked for me so far...and isn’t madness doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
“You’re right.” I nod, pushing myself up into a sitting position. “You’retotallyright.”
Drew grins smugly. “I know.”
One month without a plan. Just living. Enjoying. Being selfish and doing whatIwant to do...all the things I never did because Perfect Presley wasn’t wild or a risk-taker or a daredevil. One month to let my hair out and screw the consequences.
That isexactlywhat I need right now.
