right now more than ever. I need someone to tell me to shape up and forget that man. I know Stella can do the job.
“Not really,” I say miserably. “I miss him.”
“I can tell,” she says, her voice quiet.
I meet her gaze. “What should I do?”
Stella shakes her head slowly. “I can’t tell you what to do. This is too big of a moment for you to listen to all of us.”
I’m frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You need to listen to your heart. Your mind,” she says. “What are they telling you to do?”
Who is this person and when did she abduct my friend? She looks like Stella. She sounds like her too. But what she’s saying is…
Kind of romantic.
She sounds like me.
“He hurt me,” I admit, my voice hushed as I glance around the hustle and bustle that is currently filling this room. But no one is paying any attention us. I can be one hundred percent truthful right now. Stella is open-minded to my plight, and I need that. “Keeping his career hidden feels like he might have other secrets too, right?”
“We all have secrets, and when we’re with someone we care about, we slowly expose them, vulnerable and raw the entire time. By keeping that from you, he made you feel vulnerable,” Stella explains.
“And raw,” I add with a humorless laugh.
“Right.” She smiles faintly. “I know what Sarah told you. She told me about your conversation. And I have to agree with her. Maybe he kept it from you because he didn’t want you to fall for the illusion of him. He wanted you to appreciate the real him. The man beneath the career, the money, the fame.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice raspy. I chug the rest of my mimosa and tell myself I can’t drink anymore until the reception. “He kind of said the same thing. I just wish he’d told me before the weekend was up.”
“I don’t think he knew how,” Stella says. “It’s hard, coming clean from a lie. It just gets more and more difficult as time goes on, you know? I’m guessing that’s what happened. He got to a certain point where he didn’t know how to tell you without looking like an absolute asshole.”
“He couldn’t win,” I say, shaking my head. “He looks like an asshole no matter what.”
“Can you forgive that asshole?” Stella asks.
Yes. That’s the first word that comes to my mind.
Yes, I want to forgive him.
Yes, I want him back in my life.
Yes, I want us to pursue this relationship and see what happens.
But how?
She must see something in my expression, because she forges on. “It doesn’t matter what I think or what anyone else thinks either. What do you want, Eleanor? What’s going to make you happy? Who is going to make you happy?”
“I can make myself happy no matter what,” I say automatically. “I don’t need a man to complete me.”
“Good, that’s good,” Stella says, nodding her encouragement.
“But I want to give him another chance,” I admit, my voice so soft, I’m almost whispering. “We fit together perfectly.”
“You two seem very compatible sexually,” Stella says, her expression serious.
That makes me laugh, and my face heats up. “I am so embarrassed you all had to listen to that.”
“We were actually really happy for you. You’ve tried dating a variety of guys over the years, and they never work out. They always end up making you feel bad about yourself, and that sucks.” Stella grabs my hand. “You are nothing short of fabulous. You’re funny and smart and you’re an amazing hairstylist. You are a loyal friend. You love unabashedly. And you’re beautiful, both inside and out.”
I am flat-out crying. I have never heard Stella say such sweet things before, and it’s making me emotional.
“You deserve a man who sees all of those things and more. You deserve a man who puts you on a pedestal and worships the ground you walk on. One who treats you like an equal, and doesn’t think your quirks are awkward or weird,” Stella continues.
“That was Mitch,” I say, nodding fiercely as the tears stream down my face. “I barely knew him, but that’s exactly how he treated me.”
“My nonna always says, ‘When you know, you know.’” A mysterious little smile curls Stella’s lips. “I think you know, Eleanor.”
I absorb everything Stella said to me, thinking on it as I get my hair curled by one of the stylists who works with me at the salon. Laci loves to chat, and she’s