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“With friends like these, who needs enemies?” I grumble.
“You know, I think I have just the collection for you to pick from,” the saleswoman says, and disappears into the back room.
I wanderaround the store looking at the rings on display, trying to picture each of them on Violet’s finger. “Too big. Too boring. Too cheap. No. No. Hell no. Don’t they have any gold? She needs something that will look warm on her skin.”
I look up to find Jaylen and Tom staring at me with unreadable expressions on their faces.
“What?” I demand.
“It’s just...it seems like you’re putting a lot of effort into this fake relationship,” Jaylen says.
“What are you implying?” I cross my arms.
“Well...maybe your mom had a point about you needing more of a personal life,” Tom says. “Clearly there’s a part of you that likes doing the couple stuff. Buying someone jewelry. Living together. Going on fancy dates.”
“Hey. Take that back,” I order.
Jaylen rolls his eyes. “Calm down. We’re not saying this relationship is real or anything. We’re just raising the possibility thatmaybeyou’re throwing yourself into it because you’re a little lonelier than you realize?”
“We’ve been worried about you, man,” Tom admits. “It was fine to have work be your whole life when you were in your twenties. But at some point, you need to figure out what else matters to you, or you’ll finally look up one day and realize all you have is work. And work can’t love you back.”
I snort. “Don’t be melodramatic. I have you guys. I have my mom.”
“And that’s a great start,” Jaylen says encouragingly like I’m a lonely kid in need of all the positive reinforcement I can get. “But maybe you could aim to add like two other people to that circle? Hell, go wild. Add five!”
“You guys are such assholes,” I grumble.
The saleswoman returns with a tray of rings, diamonds winking like stars against the black velvet box.
Tom, Jaylen, and I gather around to examine the rings, our shoulders bashing into each other as we each try and get a good look.
After twenty-five minutes of surprisingly intense arguing—Jaylen caresa lotabout how many carats a ring should be, while Tom feels inexplicably strongly about the setting—we finally settle on one that we all agree Violet will like.
We leave the store laughing and joking. But as I fall into step with my best friends under the night sky, I can’t help but wonder if they were right earlier.
What if I wake up one day and realize that the life I’ve worked so hard to build is as boring, lonely, and meaningless as all the designer artwork in my apartment?
10
VIOLET
Gage stays out so late I have time to finish my painting. It’s a loose, abstract interpretation of two figures dancing. I used yellows, pinks, oranges—fiery colors that match my mood. I don’t know why I’m feeling so restless, except that this week has been weird as hell.
I never know which version of Gage I’m going to get. The acerbic, demanding boss. The thoughtfully seductive fake fiancé.
The sinfully handsome man who kisses like a god.
I carefully carry my mostly dry painting into the living room, scoping out possible places to hang it. It’s too small to replace Gage’s big painting, but I could swap out one of the smaller artworks. I’m making up my mind when my phone buzzes.
I dig it out of the pocket of my sweatpants and see a text from Tom.
You and I are going to have a talk about your life choices later. But for right now, can you just make sure Gage drinks some water?
I frown, confused.
Then there’s the sound of keys fumbling in the lock, and Gage flings open the front door. “Lucy, I’m home,” he slurs in a bad, drunken imitation from that old 50s TV show.
My phone buzzes with another text from Tom.
