Page 47 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Faye

The next morning, I’m up bright and early, painting my living room.

I decided on a sage-green color. Or at least it looked sage green in the store. I run the roller over the wall and it’s coming across a little more . . . neon than I wanted.

Too late to turn back now.

This is my latest attempt at busying myself so I don’t have to think about anything else, only home projects. If I come up with enough tasks to complete, I won’t have to face any of my problems. Very healthy.

A knock at the door interrupts me. I look through the peephole and rip the door open so fast I almost remove the years of paint that have been painted over the hinges.

Rett is here, and I know things will be okay.

Her eyes land on the scene behind me. Sheets and blankets acting as drop cloths tossed over everything. The chair I’ve been using as a ladder, laying sideways on the ground. Takeout containers littering the floor.

Then she looks at me, and her eyes go wide at the sight of what might be the world’s worst case of breakup bangs to ever be seen.

“Oh no,” she says, pulling me into the second hug she’s ever given me. The first was right after I gave the engagement ring back to Andrew. Two Rett hugs in a single year. I must really look awful.

“Are they that bad?” I ask, reaching up to press them down on my forehead.

The concern on her face turns to determination as she guides me toward the bathroom. “Come on.”

I sit on top of the toilet while she attempts to fix the mess I’ve made of my hair. I’m so grateful for Rett in this moment—for her steadfast friendship and unwavering support. I feel tears start to well up in my eyes, thinking of what it’s going to take to fix the mess I’ve made of my whole life.

“Don’t cry. They’re really not that bad.” She steps back to view her progress. “You have the perfect facial structure to pull off a short bang.”

I sniffle. “I just don’t know what I would do without you.”

She starts snipping again. “Good thing you won’t ever have to find that out.

Now, what do you think?” She places her arms on my shoulders and leads me to stand in front of the mirror.

They’re a little short for my liking, but they definitely look better.

Plus, it’s just hair. It will grow. “Thank you so much,” I say, tears starting up again.

“Have you talked to Eli?” she asks our reflections.

Just hearing his name hurts, like shards of glass piercing through all of my vital organs.

I’ve picked up my phone to call him every single night since the party, but haven’t been able to follow through.

Something else has been nagging me too, as I’ve replayed that fight I overheard between Eli and Andrew.

I wasn’t dragging my feet. . .

I was trying to be who she wanted . . . I loved her.

“I think I need to talk to Andrew first.” If I had resolved things with Andrew and really told him all my fears and feelings, so much of this would have never happened.

Talking to him feels like the first step in getting the closure we never had.

Then, I can move forward with making things right with Eli.

She looks at me, green eyes approving. “I think you’re right.”

“Although, who knows if he’d want to see me. You should have seen his face that night. He was . . . distraught.”

“I think you should try.”

I take a deep breath as I pull up our text thread. The last time we texted was about the suitcase. That feels like ages ago—so much has transpired since then.

I type out the text before I have time to second guess or overanalyze it.

Faye: Would you like to go for a walk with me?

We used to go on walks together all the time, at local trails or parks. Plus, if we’re outside and moving, maybe it’ll give our conversation some room to breathe. “There,” I say, putting my phone in my back pocket.

He texts back almost immediately, though.

Andrew: I would like that.

Some of the tightness in my chest loosens. We decide to meet later this afternoon at Dix Park. “He said he’ll meet me.”

“I’m sure he wants to talk to you, too.” Rett steers me out of the bathroom. “Now that your bangs aren’t looking like Weird Barbie anymore, let’s finish painting your key lime pie living room.”

“I’m kind of surprised you agreed to see me.”

My voice cracks on the last few words, and I really don’t want to cry in front of him right now. He shouldn’t have to be the one to comfort me. I thought I was done crying but seeing him has brought on the waterworks again.

“I’m glad you texted me,” he says, silently passing me a tissue without drawing attention to it. He has bad allergies and never goes without a pocket full of Kleenex this time of year. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” I say.

He puts his hands in his pockets and pays close attention to our steps as we walk. “I’m sorry for anything you might have heard the other night. I was having a rough day.”

“Please, you don’t have to apologize to me for that. I didn’t mean for anything to happen how it did.”

He half smiles. “That’s almost exactly what Eli said to me.”

“So, you’ve talked to him?”

“Yeah, we’re okay now.”

“You and Eli are . . . good?”

“Yes,” he confirms before concern creases his brow. “Are you . . . good?”

The tears start rolling again before I can stop them. “I hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

He places a hand lightly on my back. “Faye, it’s okay.”

“I ruin everything. I messed up. He was so—” I stop, realizing how inappropriate this is, even in my current emotional state. “I kept you from being happy. I’m keeping myself from being happy.”

We stop at bench, and he gestures for me to have a seat. “What do you mean you kept me from being happy?”

“Well, we were together for so long and so wrong for each other.”

He looks down the path, gathering his thoughts before he responds. “The reasons we didn’t work out aren’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“But I’m losing everyone now. I’m losing him. I lost you.”

“You haven’t lost me.” He holds his arms out to the side. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

“He told me he loved me.” I take a shuddering breath. “He told me he loved me and all I said back was ‘I can’t.’’

“Do you love him?”

A fresh batch of sobs bubble to the surface. “Yes, I think I do.”

“You need to talk to him and tell him how you feel.”

“I’m scared.”

“This is your chance at happiness. Take it. You deserve to be loved. Don’t let fear keep you from experiencing that.” I can’t help the laugh that comes out after he says this.He shrugs and looks down bashfully. “Or something. Fuck if I know.”

“That was very poignant. Have you been reading self-help books?”

He smiles wryly. “Something like that.”

“You deserve that, too, you know.”

He nods. “Yeah, I know.”

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the sounds of birds and crickets. It’s good just to sit here with him, together, but lost in our own thoughts.

“What if he says he doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Trust me, that isn’t the case.”

“How do you know?”

“I happen to know where he is right now if you want to find that out for sure.”

I hug him, and his arms tighten around me, telling me that things may be different now, but we still have each other.