Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,85

all my strength to say no to that, but I somehow managed.

I’ve decided I just need time. A few days to think through things. It’s not like Henry’s in a rush, so I might as well take the time I need to figure this out. What do I really want? I want to be with Henry; I know that. But at this point, it’s only on his terms, and he doesn’t seem to want to stray from that. The other option is to not be with Henry, and I don’t love that idea either.

Right now, I’m watching him on his last date for the feature. I’m outside the restaurant, the air extra balmy after the afternoon shower. Even with the overcast sky, there’s no reprieve from the heat except to escape to the air-conditioned station van or inside the restaurant.

But I wait outside because the date is almost over and also, I’m oddly drawn to date number three. Bonnie is her name. She’s stunning. Black, perfectly straight hair. Dark, flawless skin. And a smile that would light up any room. I spoke with her for only a few minutes, but there’s such a likable quality to her that I find myself wanting to hang out with her and be her friend. I wonder if she’s in the market for a new friend with food and body image issues who likes to settle for things in her life. Including the man Bonnie’s sitting across from right now. The man that’s giving her his full attention and the most genuine of smiles he’s given on all three dates.

Henry could say yes to a second date with Bonnie, and they could go out in public, and people could tell them what a gorgeous couple they are—because they would be. She could tell all her friends and coworkers and put a picture of the two of them on her desk. She could invite him to meet her parents, and they could go to Vegas to see her bestie get married. She could have all those things with him.

But, if he does pick her, he’ll go on the second date, and then he will come back to me, because he wants to be with me. But only in secret. And I’m settling for whatever crumbs he’s willing to throw my way. I understand his reasons, even as over the top as I think they are. I don’t want to be selfish. But isn’t Henry being selfish, here, too? Wanting his cake and eating it too?

Wow. Cake sounds so good right now.

I’m so tired of getting what I want but with some big caveat. I was a “we” with Brady, but he wasn’t who I really wanted to be with. I finally get to be with Henry, but not in the way I want to be. I work in television, doing the news, but am stuck in midday with a viral video haunting me. The stars that I’d been settling for seem so dull right now, and the ones still out of my reach sit above me, mocking me.

I look over at Moriarty, who’s talking to her producer and doing her ultra-cheesy fake laugh, like she does. Even working with her on this whole feature is about me settling. I thought it was more compromising, but really, I just let the station dictate it all; I didn’t even argue. I’d have just let her take the feature if Jerry hadn’t spoken up. Why am I always doing that?

I accidentally make eye contact with her, and Moriarty turns that fake smile on me and then saunters my way, her dark-red peplum jacket swishing back and forth as she walks in her four-inch heels.

“I think this is the one,” she says, a nod toward the restaurant where Bonnie just said something to make Henry laugh out loud. There’s a know-it-all grin on Moriarty’s face that I’d kind of like to punch.

“Do you?” I ask, my tone conveying that I don’t really care either way.

“Oh yes,” she says. “Bonnie is definitely Henry’s type.”

“And you know his type?”

“Of course. Young, skinny, smart. And you can tell by the way he looks at her,” she says, her tone smug.

He does look like he’s into her, and maybe he is. Maybe Bonnie would be someone he’d throw caution to the wind or move mountains for. Maybe she would be enough.

Because that’s really what’s bothering me here. I’m not enough. I’m not enough for Henry to put all that Claire stuff aside and