Page 43 of The Romantic Agenda

“I have never put you on standby,” Malcolm says, snapping with sudden anger.

Not true.

One time. He did it one time, but it’d be unbelievably cruel to mention her right then. He also didn’t even try to put a dent in the rest because he couldn’t. That’s how it always ends. An ultimatum and a goodbye.

He says, “I always choose you and you know it.”

“I’ve never asked you to do that. You don’t get to be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. I’m... frustrated.”

“Because I don’t see it for you and Summer?”

“Because youneversee it for me and anyone I date.”

“That’s not true,” Joy says, deciding to try and lighten the mood. She doesn’t want to fight with him. She doesn’t want him to be mad at her. She doesn’t want to feel like shit for making him upset she doesn’t she doesn’t she doesn’t—“There’s also Summer’s face.”

Malcolm frowns at her, deciding if he wants to take the bait. “What’s wrong with her face?”

“Forget Resting Bitch Face—”

“Joy, don’t.”

She couldn’t resist. “—and get ready for Resting Princess Face. She’s always smiling.”

With teeth, mouth closed, with her eyes, smizing. Summer’s entire body is one giant smiling superpower. She must not care about wrinkles—parentheses, crow’s feet, and all that.

Joy doesn’t either, not really. She likes cataloging the changes in her face, the new wrinkles, creases, and moles. That doesn’t mean she’s lazy with her skin care. She uses all the good stuff to help with things like replenishing elasticity and staying hydrated, but she isn’t obsessed with smoothing, tucking, or hiding. She wants to look her best—the best version of thirty-year-old Joy that there can be.

Malcolm asks, “You have a problem with her because she smiles too much?”

“Did I say that? Did I say it was a problem? All I did was point it out.” Joy grins.

Malcolm sits back, slumping against the couch. “I don’t understand what the problem is, then. She likes you. She’s trying damn hard to be friends with you”—he pauses—“and not like the others, okay? I know, I know. She’s the real thing.”

“Sure. If you say so.”

“Would it kill you to be supportive?”

“Supportive?” Joy knew this would happen. “Look, I’m here, okay? You asked, I’m here, I’m spending time with Fox and keeping him away from you, just like you asked. I don’t have anything else to give you right now. So I’m sorry if I don’t feel like lying and sayingoh, you’re so cute together, and me and Summer are gonna be best friends forever. But don’t tell me I’m not being supportive when you didn’t even want me here in the first place.”

Unless he did.

Malcolm sold this trip on the grounds of keeping Fox distracted. What if the true purpose was to keepJoydistracted? To make sure she didn’t get in the way this time? She ruined things for him with Caroline, Summer convinced him all Joy needed was someone else to focus on, and what do you know, she has a friend—

And Joy fell right into the trap because shedoeslike Fox.

All at once, her brain is sure this conversation is a test. He’s checking to see if Joy will be a problem, checking if their plan is working. Joy not accepting Summer, who’s just trying oh so hard, proves that it doesn’t matter who Malcolm finds.

Joy is the problem. Joy has always been the problem.

The inside of her chest feels like it’s crumbling to pieces. Is she really being supportive or is she desperately trying to convince herself that she is?

She doesn’t want to believe it, but everything makes sense, falling into place like jagged puzzle pieces.

He’s used to you being open and not holding back... if you had something to tell him, he would expect you to tell him.

Malcolm sighs, picking at the couch cushion. “I want to get married and start my family. I feel like I’m wasting time. I’m tired of searching.”