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“Do you know I was offered the spot on The Suitor? Your spot?”
“What?”
I sit down carefully beside Bexley. “I met one of the producers at the coffee shop near work. That’s when I found out they were looking for women to be contestants. Women looking for love.”
“But you’ve always been looking for love,” she says slowly.
“I have. I’ve always wanted the fairy tale, to star in my own rom-com. But you can’t star when you’re not the leading lady. I’ve always been the sidekick. The faithful friend and confidante, to you and Boen and David. I’ve watched you all fall in love and out of it, and back in, while I settled with very bad choices because that’s what the faithful friend does. The main characters help her figure out her life.”
“That’s not true!”
“It’s how it is. It’s how it’s always been—before now.”
“Why didn’t you go on the show?” Bexley's expression is a mix of confusion and skepticism and hurt. “I didn’t want to. You made me.”
“Because I couldn’t and I thought it was too good of an opportunity for both of us to pass on. I pushed you to go on the show because I was too afraid.” I’m as surprised as Bexley at my confession but once I begin, the words start to pour out. “I told myself I couldn’t have handled it with my anxiety, but I don’t know that. I hide behind my anxiety and my shyness, but the truth is that I was too scared. I’m a coward. I’m too scared to be the leading lady in my own romance.”
“You’re not,” Bexley protests. “You’re the strongest person I know. You dealt with losing your parents, all the years with Bradley—”
“Bradley.” The disdain in my voice is more for myself than him. “I pick the same sort of guys because I’m too scared to even try at love. I know it will never work with them, and I’m too afraid to try. If I wasn’t so much of a coward, I would have gone on The Suitor instead of you.”
“Are you mad? That I went on the show?”
“Of course not,” I scoff. “I made you.”
“You did.” Bexley gives a weak laugh. “It’s the only reason I did it.”
“It’s because I’ve always put you first,” I tell her slowly. “I always put everyone else first. I’ve been content to be the sidekick. But that’s going to change.”
“You think marrying Mase is going to help with that?” she asks with disbelief.
“You don’t know him,” I chastise. “Grayson doesn’t know him, not really. They see what Mase wants them to see, what he shows the world to hide what’s really inside. I see him, just like he sees me. And I married him. I got married by an Elvis impersonator, no less. How cliché is that?”
“You hate clichés.”
“I know.”
My eyes fill with tears because Bexley is deflating from righteous anger to something else. Her shoulders slump. “You really got married?”
“I did. And I’m sorry it happened on your engagement weekend. I never wanted to steal your thunder because you deserve all the attention and—”
She waves away my comments. “I don’t. I shouldn’t have gotten upset about that because what really bothers me is that you did it without me. Without anyone.”
“You fell in love without me.”
“You got to watch.”
“With the rest of the world,” I point out. “You did that without me. And that’s okay.”
Bexley gives a shaky laugh. “It doesn’t sound okay.”
“It is,” I assure you. “And you have to be okay with me doing this. Because Bex, if you’re not…” Just the thought of such a divide between us breaks the dam that holds back my tears.
“Fiona.” Bexley reaches out a hand and pulls me into her arms.
“I hated you not being there,” I cry. “You’re my family.”
Bexley laughs. “I think that’s what I’m most mad at. You did this huge thing without me.”
