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Shouldn’t your life partner be your best friend? I recently found mine. He is first and foremost my friend. Doesn’t everyone deserve that? Including you and your O. Bailey BFF.
Love, blessings, & joy,
Happy at Last
I’m gonna be sick.
Levi:
Ask Annie:
Why anyone would ask you for help is beyond me. You have what you claim to be the best man in your life, and you haven’t even considered him for yourself? What does that say about you? What does that say about him? What does that say about anyone who writes a letter to this ridiculous column?
It makes absolutely no sense at all.
Questioning Quietly
“You insulted her? Was that really called for?” I sit in a crumpled heap at the end of my bed, reading one letter and then passing on the phone for the next. I’m tempted to text Miles, Coop, and Mom and ask for a screenshot of their letters. But then, what’s the point? They’ve already sent them.
“While it wasn’t the most polite of letters,” Meredith says, “I feel like he brought up some valid points. Maybe it’ll be good for her to read it.”
Maybe.
And maybe it will be obvious that the Baileys have decided to take over the Ask Annie column with ridiculous letters and accusations.
Maybe they’ve all outed me and my feelings.
29
Annie
Istand in my jeans and bra, tossing one shirt and then the next onto my bed. Nothing looks right. They all look the same. What am I going to wear?
Why does it matter? I don’t like Adam.
A text rings through from my sister.
A series of wide-eye emojis string across the screen.
I set a hand on my hip and open the wordless message, just as another text comes in.
Kayla: Forty-two? Forty-two letters asking why YOU aren’t with Owen? That’s… a lot, Annie.
Me: Forty-two and I still have fourteen emails to open, all put in the same file folder by my assistant. What is happening, Kayla? What’s going on with my experiment??????????
Kayla: Uhhhh, your fans are seeing through you and giving you a piece of your own medicine.
Me: This is crazy. What are people thinking?
Kayla: They only read what you write, little sister.Everything they’re saying comes from what you’ve written.
I drop my phone onto the bed, and I’m grateful when it lands face-side down. I snag a shirt from the middle of a mounding pile and slip it over my head.
I’m going to be late… Late picking up Owen. Late getting to the restaurant. Late for my date.
With Adam—from work.
Why Adam… because I gave this advice:
