Just get through this campaign, and then maybe…
“Hey, Knightley!” I whip around to see Mallory approaching me. She waves at Emma Jane as she passes her, but Emma Jane only nods once in greeting before continuing across the town square area full of dead grass and bare trees and people taking down their stands.
“Hey, Mallory.” My voice is rough, as if I’m on the verge of crying myself. I swallow then try again. “You made it.”
She tucks a strand of brown hair behind her ear before running her hands down her orange dress. “I want to call off our fake relationship.”
I’m stunned silent, my mouth opening to say something but closing because I don’t know what to say. She takes advantage of the silence. “You see, I’ve met someone. Well, it’s an old friend from high school. We reconnected online, and I told him my relationship with you was for publicity purposes only. He doesn’t feel new,you know? You felt new, and I wasn’t ready. But with him… I think I could be ready for him. I really like him, and—”
“Let’s end it,” I interrupt, saying the only thing I could possibly say at the moment.Thank you, God, for this opportunity. I don’t deserve it, but thank you for Your grace.She grins, her eyes crinkling in the corners.
“You’re seriously okay with that?”
I nod, matching her smile. “Absolutely. I wish you and this guy all the happiness in the world.”
“Can I still work on your team?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mallory.” I reach out to shake her hand.
She pulls me into a hug instead, whispering in my ear. “Go get her, okay? Don’t let the age gap or fear of what people may say get in your way. I’ll work on press releases to put out when you decide to announce your relationship.”
Emma Jane
Rule #16: At the end of the day, encourage your clients to stay true to who they are.
If a racoon and a porcupine had a baby, it would look like my face.
I couldn’t control the tears that spilled from me as I left Knightley to finish tearing down his tent by himself.
Well, with Mallory’s help. I couldn’t even bring myself to smile as I passed her. I’m sure they are almost finished and will head to their date night soon.
All while I sit in my car and cry.
I’m at the city park, stationed under a shady tree because I didn’t want to drive home through my tears. But I also couldn’t stay in the town square parking lot.
Over the past month, I’ve tried my hardest to accept his relationship and move on. But every time I’m in his presence, I fall more in love with him. I don’t know if I’m more attracted to him when he bickers with me or when he is trying to comfort me like earlier.I can’t be attracted to him, though. He’s not mine, and every time I remind myself of that, more tears start to fall.
Not that he’d want me anyway, but still.
I wanted desperately to open up to him about this past month of praying, going to the Lord, and talking to Henrietta about my issues. Of trying to overcome my excessive need to be seen as perfect. To overcome the guilt I feel over my mother’s death.
I even opened up to Papa about it, and he pulled me into a hug and apologized for not talking to me about her much sooner. We spent the entire evening together a week ago, and he told me all about her. I was brought to tears over how much my mom and I have in common. Outside of our looks, we were both business-minded, wanted to benefit our communities, and, of course, suffered from PCOS. When I told Papa that I had been diagnosed at fifteen, that led to another round of apologies and tears on both of our ends. He promised me he would do everything he could to make sure I got the best treatment moving forward.
Halle has helped me just as much as Henrietta has over the past month. Both ladies have reminded me when we were out in public that it was okay if I wasn’t smiling at everyone. She reminded me that I can make and keep friends by being myself, though I’m slowly figuring out who I am. I still love fashion, my job, puzzles, and games, but I no longer feel the need to be in charge of everything. I’m learning to let things fall as they may. God is constantly reminding me that I am not Him.
Mrs. Bates apologized to me, and I apologized to her. It was a sweet moment, and it has helped release the need to be perfect. Atleast partly. There are still moments when I succumb to the way I’ve been living for the past twenty-three years.
I want to tell Knightley all of this, but he’s not mine to tell. He can’t be the one to bring me comfort. I pick up my phone to call Halle since she knows about my feelings for Knightley, but my phone begins buzzing in my hand with a call from the man himself.
Waiting until the last possible moment to pick up, I clear my throat and answer. “Hi. What’s up?” Super casual. I haven’t been crying for the past fifteen minutes. Nope.
“Mallory and I broke up. Would you care to join me at The Flats for dinner?”
My gasp catches in my throat, and I have the overwhelming urge to screech at the top of my lungs like a crazed banshee. Do a victory dance. Stand on the winner’s podium at the Olympics. Bees swarm in my stomach, my head explodes with fireworks, and electricity dances through my nervous system.He’s free…
He’s mine.
Slow your roll, Emma Jane. Consent is important.
