Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
“Do you want to come inside?”
She hesitates. “I don’t want to intrude. But could we maybe...talk out here for a little bit?”
I step aside. “You’re not intruding. Come in.”
Nodding, she steps in, taking in my parents’ small, cozy living room that’s swallowed up by a couch and two recliners. Photos of me and Will growing up line the walls. An afghan made decades ago by my grandma is folded neatly and hung over the back of the worn couch they’ve had since I was a kid.
Dalton comes in from the kitchen, his gaze shooting between me and Farrah.
“Hey, Farrah,” he says in a neutral tone.
“Hey. Can I give these to you?”
“Yeah.” He comes over and takes the vase of flowers. “You want a chicken salad sandwich? Or a drink?”
I love that he’s so comfortable here. And that even though he’s pissed at Farrah, he seems to know how much pride she had to swallow to show up here.
“I’m good, thanks.”
He nods, looking at me. “I’ll be upstairs.”
Farrah sits down on one end of the couch, and I sit down on the other end. It’s weird. Having the two parts of my life that have always been so separate colliding out of nowhere.
“I owe you an apology, Alice.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I know Dalton said some things, but I knew what working for you meant, and you’ve been very generous with money. It’s changed my family’s lives.”
She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes as she smiles sadly. “It’s so like you to let me off the hook. But Dalton was right. I spent the rest of my time on the show thinking about our relationship.”
“So you’re done with filming?”
She nods. “Spoiler alert--I didn’t end up with anyone. You can’t tell anyone that, of course, because of the NDAs we signed.”
“I won’t.”
She breaks out into the dazzling smile that has graced many movie posters. “I think Misty and Dom are going to end up married. Who saw that coming?”
I get a warm feeling as I remember the sweet gymnast who deserves all the happiness in the world from what I can see. “Good for Misty.”
She sighs heavily. “Guess it’s obvious I’m new to apologizing.”
I close the distance between us, a lump in my throat as I cover her hand with one of mine.
“I thought you’d hate me for leaving. If you don’t, we’re good.”
Her gaze falls to her lap, where a tear drops onto the back of my hand. “I could never hate you, Alice. You’re my best friend. I...” Her voice wavers and she clears her throat. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” My own eyes flood with tears. “And you’re my best friend.”
She looks up at me, a wet trail running down each of her cheeks. “Really? Even though our relationship has been completely about me?”
“It hasn’t. You watched Mean Girls for me. You took me to that French bakery so I could try things even though you didn’t want any of it.”
She laughs softly. “I wanted all of it.”
“You’ve always included me in your adventures. I’m not some sad little assistant who waits in the trailer while you’re skydiving and going on safaris. We’ve done things together that I never would have dreamed of doing without you.”
She covers my hand with her other one. “Thank you for being so gracious. But I have to say this just so I know I did this the right way. I’ve treated you unfairly and you’re the last person in my life who--,” She pauses to take a breath after her voice breaks. “Who deserved that. I’m sorry. And I’m so happy Dalton realized the most amazing woman on that show--the greatest catch--was you.”
We’re both crying as I wrap my arms around her in a hug.
“Of course I forgive you. I’m so happy you’re not...mad at me.”
She pulls away, wiping her cheeks. “I need to work on myself. I’m not signing the contract for the next movie.”
“You’re not?”
She shakes her head, looking amused. “I’m going to rehab.”
My eyes widen with surprise. “Rehab? You don’t drink alcohol or use drugs.”
“You can pay fancy rehab places to treat you for literally anything, and they’ll take your twenty thousand a week. Can you believe that? So I’m going to narcissism rehab.”
My jaw drops. Farrah has become shockingly self-aware in the three weeks we’ve been apart.
“Farrah, that’s...” I stumble, unable to come up with a word for it.
She laughs. “It’s fucked. But I’m really looking forward to it. They’re going to teach me how to have ‘healthy, reciprocal relationships.’” She air quotes the words. “I’m hoping to practice on that with you.”
A wave of trepidation hits me. “I meant it about loving you, but the doctors have said my dad’s going to decline faster than before, and I need to be here with my parents right now.”