in with no … motivation. Nothing is a challenge.”
Keaton smiles, looks down shaking his head. “Damn, you just described my life before I met Presley. And … I can admit that I felt many of the same feelings. But, then I found love.”
I can’t look at him now. “I had that, once. And it’s gone, it has to be dead and you know why. At least I can try to find a way back to a part of the person I once was.”
Keaton is silent for a long time, long enough that the tailor comes back and marks both of our pants and tells us we can change and meet at the register.
Finally, he clears his throat. “You should call him. If this is the way you’re going to break down that wall you’ve surrounded yourself with, and trapped yourself inside of, then I think you should call him.”
13
Lily
Three days after the total dismantling of my self-esteem thanks to Bowen, all I want to do is sit in my house and lick my wounds.
Too bad it’s dress shopping day.
“Yippee,” I sarcastically recite as Penelope pulls into the parking lot of the only wedding and bridesmaid dress store in fifty miles. Of course, I want to see another woman in a wedding dress today. Of course, I want to try on whatever horrible creation they’ve invented to make bridesmaids feel even more like bridesmaids. Of course, I want to toast with champagne and celebrate love.
Lord, I should have taken something for this.
I’m never the type to be grouchy. It literally goes against my chemical makeup, and I can recount on one hand the total number of times I’ve ever been outwardly mean or prickly in my life. But today, it would have to be the first finger on the second hand.
Something shifted in me after Bowen took me down a notch. Okay … it was probably more like twenty notches.
For a man to go from almost kissing you, for the second time in a month, to completely slaughtering your confidence, love for him, and values you hold dear … it was—and I never curse—a mindfuck. I didn’t know which way was up. When Bowen had started going in on my, what he called, desperation and weakness, it was worse than our breakup.
Because when our relationship ended, I didn’t get words. It was radio silence. But to hear him voice those opinions about me, to pull apart every fiber of myself that I thought was worth something … it hurt like hell. To tell me he didn’t love me, that he didn’t even want to look at me …
I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying in the backseat of Penelope’s car, next to one of her kid’s car seats. There were two gummy bears smashed into the lining, and I had to focus on that to stop myself from losing it.
But nothing stung as bad as hearing Bowen call me weak in regard to my parents. He knew me better than anyone, even after ten years of barely speaking, and he knew that was the touchiest subject for me. Because … I was weak when it came to them.
Bowen had been there for all the phone calls telling me to get home now. He’d been there through campaign speeches and caucus trips and the smiling and waving. All the things I was forced to do that I didn’t want to because it fell under “being a good political daughter.” Each party, or dance, or night with friends that I missed because I was out doing something for my dad’s position or campaign.
He had been the one I’d cried to, complained to. Back then, he’d stood up for me, privately between the two of us. And now, it seemed he was using all the ammo he’d amassed against me.
It was cruel. Each word that had shot like venom out of his mouth and at me was so incredibly cruel.
Penelope and Presley have already gotten out of the car, and I’m lagging a few seconds behind as I drag myself onto the pavement.
“Earth to Lily, where you at?” Penelope snaps in my face.
I swat her hand away. “I’m here.”
“Woah, who are you and where is Lily? We’re shopping for fluffy white dresses … looking at wedding gowns is one of your favorite pastimes.” Penelope eyes me like an alien has taken over my body.
“I’m fine. This is Presley’s day, don’t worry about me.” I try to smile but it feels so