Nora’s party is soon, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Lilly face that den of vipers alone.
Chapter 46
I drop the phone as if it were a venomous snake about to bite me, and only when my vision blurs do I realize I’m crying.
I don’t know what changed since the last time we talked, but something is very wrong.
Still, if Amos thinks he’s going to break up with me over the phone, then he clearly doesn’t know me well enough.
I don’t know what kind of women he’s been with before me, but I refuse to be sidelined with hints and evasion. He’s going to have to say we’re done to my face.
As soon as I dry my tears, I decide I’m moving out.
I’d already been planning to, but that exchange of texts only sped things up.
I quickly pack my belongings into my suitcases while confirming via text with the realtor that I’ll stop by to sign the contract.
Then I call Theo, asking him to come with me, both to sign the lease and to help me find a hotel for the night—just in case the apartment isn’t immediately available.
Thank God, everything happened fast, and in less than an hour I had the code to open the apartment.
We’re in a cab, on the way to the new place, when Theo finally asks the question I’m sure he’s been holding in since we met earlier. “Lilly, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just need you to help me move.”
He stays quiet for a while, which is rare. Theo’s usually upbeat, cheerful—but he seems thoughtful, and I imagine he’s trying to figure out why I’m in such a rush. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t want to answer that right now because I’m afraid I’ll start crying. We’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now, I just really need help getting settled.”
“You don’t need to say another word. Tears and hot guys always go hand in hand, so something tells me this is about your boyfriend. It’s lucky the place is already furnished. I’m inviting myself to stay over the first night. Here’s the plan: we buy a giant tub of ice cream and eat it while trash-talking men. How’s that sound?”
I laugh, despite the sadness weighing on me.
Theo must’ve been placed in my life by someone upstairs who really likes me.
“Even I couldn’t have come up with a better plan. Yes to everything you just said.”
“Can I give you some advice from someone who’s spent way too long bottling things up? Don’t suffer in silence. Youshould try yelling and swearing sometimes. A good ‘fuck it’ can be more liberating than years of therapy.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Try it.”
“Who would I say ‘fuck it’ to?”
“No one in particular. How about a simple ‘fuck it’ to a shitty day?”
“That actually sounds like a good idea.”
“Say it.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m waiting.”
I see the cab driver smiling in the rearview mirror.
I think back to my little act of rebellion earlier today—I kind of snuck out past the security guards, leaving through the back door of the building.
