The Perfect Cover (The Perfect Stranger #2) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,33

our conversations tend to be something a lot more meaningful and relaxing.

She asks me about my hair and skin products and I ask her about how she keeps her curls so pristine despite being on the road.

Some people would say that what we talk about is shallow, but it kind of connects us in a way. She finds out a little bit about who I am. I find out a little bit about who she is. We don’t disclose anything we don’t want to and yet we each get a glimpse of who we are.

I can’t remember the last time I talked about clothes and makeup, music and movies with a girl before. The women I worked with, work with currently, I have to remember that I’m only here on vacation, I never talked to them much about things like that.

I probably should have.

I probably could have.

For some reason, I couldn’t relax with them the same way I can with Maggie.

I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that I don’t expect to see her for a long time.

She’s kind of like my single-serving friend.

There’s something relaxing about being with someone like that because there isn’t this pressure that you’re going to see them day in and day out.

Plus, what happens if you find out something about them that you don’t like?

With Maggie, I am actually surprised that we have so much in common.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asks when I get a little bit quiet and look out at the desert flickering by me.

“Yeah, I just spaced out a little bit."

“That happens to me, too, sometimes,” she says in that fun bouncy way and I find it hard to believe.

“So, tell me about this ex that you mentioned,” she says. “You guys went to Hawaii together?”

I can’t remember exactly when I brought him up and I’m taken aback by the fact that she remembers.

“Actually, he surprised me with a trip to Hawaii. He bought the tickets and booked the resort and everything, but I kind of freaked out and couldn’t go.”

“Oh, no, what happened?”

I haven’t talked about this much at all except with India, but somehow the words just come tumbling out.

“I had a panic attack. That morning, when we were supposed to go to the airport, I just couldn’t do it. I could barely convince myself to pack a suitcase. If I had managed to get on the plane and get there, I probably would’ve discovered that I didn’t bring anything that I needed.”

“I’m really sorry,” she says, placing her hand on my arm.

I shake my head and give a little shrug.

“I thought that he would understand. That was probably the hardest thing to deal with.”

“He didn’t?”

I shake my head and she waits for me to explain.

I look ahead and see Tyler’s ears perk up, also listening. I can’t remember if I ever told him the story.

“He got really mad,” I say. “Angry, pissed off, whatever you want to call it. He broke some furniture, nearly broke my face.”

She gasps and then suddenly I see a different expression on her face.

It’s almost as if she is someone who knows what that’s like; to be with someone like that.

I can talk about it nonchalantly now even though I’m not really talking about it, I’m making jokes and making light of it.

I’m not being honest about it either, not about how I felt that night or about how scared I was that I would never make it out of there alive.

“Anyway, it all worked out for the best. He ended up going on the trip himself and he met his future wife there.”

“He did?” Maggie asks, elongating the last word as if I’m giving her the juiciest piece of gossip.

I sit back and laugh, while saying, “Well, good riddance, I guess.”

“Yes, of course,” she says, taking my hand into hers and raising it up high. “You don’t deserve that. No woman does.”

I like that she’s celebrating me, that she’s thinking of me as some sort of symbol of women empowerment. The only problem is that I’m not.

I put up with it for way too long.

I was scared.

I was hurt.

I wasn’t sure if I could get out of it. In fact, I was lucky that he got so angry that he took off on his own and ended up meeting someone else.

I don’t tell her this. I have never told this to anyone out loud, but I have often wondered exactly how his wife is doing. I hope that