Page 89 of Hello Darling

“He did give me the world. For as long as I could take it.”

“You’re allowed to want more, kid. Even if it scares you. Even if it’s too much.”

* * *

I manage to keep up appearances, like a stodgy old British lady, while I’m with people. Even when I get looks of pity. Even when I hear people on Main Street whispering about how I was dumped by Evan Hunter. I don’t care about that. Let ‘em talk.

When I’m alone at home, it’s a different story. Snuggling with my Muffin Top and curling up with a good book by the fire at the end of the day just isn’t as satisfying as it used to be. The quiet is so much more quiet now. It’s empty. I keep telling myself that this is just something I have to get through, but I’m afraid that “too much” has somehow become the only thing that’s enough for me.

Getting over Cody while living in the town we both grew up in wasn’t easy, but trying to get over a celebrity who was here for less than two and a half months is damn near impossible when he has a movie coming out. When I’m buying groceries, there’s a small side photo of Evan Hunter with Georgia March at the premiere ofFallouton the cover of a celebrity gossip magazine.They are both smiling, arms around each other’s waists. The caption reads:Evangia back on, now that Georden is over? Georgia tweets pic of Evan: “I’ve missed this guy!”

The checkout clerk and the lady behind me don’t say anything when I turn the whole stack of those magazines around, back page facing out. They seem to totally understand. Maybe they’d understand if I took every copy outside and burned them in a metal trash bin too, but Kwas would probably take a picture of it and some gossip blog would caption it: “Spurned Evan Hunter ex now homeless—only heat source is burned pics ofEvangia!”

Fuck celebrity gossip.

But good for Evan Hunter if he is back with Georgia. I have no reason not to believe it, since I haven’t heard a peep from him in three weeks. They belong together.

When a teaser trailer forFalloutshows up in my Instagram feed, I can’t look away. I turn the volume up and force myself to watch it. The movie’s about the fallout of his affair with a politician’s mistress. Romance! Thrills! Dirty politics! They look so fucking good together, I almost want to see the damn movie. She really is a good actress.

The crazy thing is, I can’t even be mad at him. Seeing him with her, whether he’s just acting or posing for the cameras or not, does make me question every memory I have of him with me. But it doesn’t make me like him any less. All I can think about is the good stuff. And it was all good stuff with Evan. I am still very much in love with him. It’s a rare and wondrous form of total fucking torture.

Jason Kwasnicki, the man the myth the legend, comes to the gym to workout every day. He doesn’t flirt with me at all, or give me shit about anything. He’s just trying to keep busy after being dumped by a starlet. He gives me empathetic looks, like we’re somehow on the same boat, but we aren’t.

He’s trying to keep his head above water after a brief fling with a pretty actress who was doing research.

I’m drowning in an ocean of regret that I threw myself into.

I’m a sad wanderlustful sailor who has held her own damn self captive.

Until I’m not.