Page 22 of Mr. Brightside

Wait… does she think…?

“It’s fine,” Lia insists, rolling her eyes and shaking her head after a moment. “Seriously. I don’t care if you want to hook up with Jake again. I have absolutely no interest in being back on that boy’s roster.”

A surge of jealousy hits me. Jake promised me he could be faithful. He said that if it was me, it would beonlyme. There’s no more roster. Lia just doesn’t know that yet.

I promised Jake I wouldn’t tell. I may be brand spanking new to this marriage thing, but I want to be a man of my word. After the initial shock of last night wore off, I realized just how thoughtful and gentle he had been: with my feelings, with my heart. Sure, what we’re doing is crazy and unconventional. But it doesn’t feel overwhelming or chaotic, and that’s all because of him.

There’s literally no one else I would do this with or do this for. But there’s just something about that man—about my future husband—that makes me crave his happiness. When I finally agreed and he hugged me, I was overcome with the most intense warmth. The way he held me, the way I felt so seen and cherished, that’s a feeling I want to experience again and again, a high I’ll be chasing for a long time.

But maybe I won’t have to chase it. Maybe that’ll be the norm with Jake. Maybe I didn’t just say yes to him last night. Maybe I also said yes to myself.

“Am I really that obvious?” I finally reply, confirming that yes, I’m all twisted up about Jake Whitely like Lia thinks. Even though it’s not for the reason she assumes.

“Just be careful, Cor.” She sighs, then links our arms together. “I know what Andre did was awful, but Jake is a really big personality to rebound with.”

I consider her words and think back to my sleazebag of an ex-boyfriend.

Andre. Just his name elicits a full-body shudder.

Our relationship ended last winter after I caught him getting his dick sucked by a stranger when we were out at the Interbelt. I don’t know why I even agreed to go with him that night; clubs are so not my scene. I always felt like I was trying to keep up and prove myself to him.

We had been exclusive—supposedly—for the better part of six months the night I caught him balls-deep down some guy’s throat in the bathroom. To this day, I can still see the grimace on his face when I pushed through the door and our eyes locked.

“What are you doing?” he’d demanded.

As ifIwas the one in the wrong.

I respect myself too much to let someone gaslight me. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a motherfucker when he broke up with me on the car ride home for being “too sensitive” and closed-minded.

Yikes.

I sure know how to pick them.

I sigh, then give Lia’s arm a squeeze. “I know. But Jake’s not Andre.”

She snorts. “Obviously not. It’s not like Jake’s going to lock you down, then go gallivanting around town behind your back. Ya know, maybe heisa good rebound.”

A tickle of dread dances in my gut. I trust Jake—I really do. The way he looked at me earlier and swore his loyalty just felt right. It’s the first part of her declaration that I’m stuck on.

Jake alreadydidlock it down. She just doesn’t know that yet.

I sit up slowly, gather my bearings, and blow out a long exhale filled with all the things I wish I could say. I hate keeping secrets from one of my closest friends, but at least she knows Jake’s back in my life in some capacity. That’ll have to be enough for now.

“Thanks for the chat,” I say, tapping her foot with the toe of my shoe before I shift over to the ladder and make my descent. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

She smiles and nods but doesn’t lift her head off the corrugated metal of the pole barn. I hope she stays up here for sunrise. She deserves a minute of peace before she has to get back to her chores.

I head to my car feeling lighter—better—now that Lia knows something’s brewing with Jake. I yawn and check the time on my phone: 5:28 a.m. Abuela gets off at six. I’ll get home before her, make breakfast, and break the news to the one person Iamallowed to talk to about all this.

“What did you do, nieto?”

I knew she’d call me out the moment she walked in the door.

My abuela works nights, cleaning the public elementary school while the rest of the world sleeps. She’s had the same job since I was in middle school—something that allowed her to be home when I got up each morning and be around to help with homework and make me dinner each night.

She’s sacrificed so much for me over the years. Even though it’s not just about the money, I get a little thrill thinking about Jake’s offer. He mentioned we could pay off her house. I want to do more than that: I want to buy her dream home.

“Good morning to you, too,” I tease, bending to kiss her on the cheek as she peers around my shoulder. I’m just finishing up the eggs, and everything else is done and laid out on the table.