I need a partner who can be here.
He does too.
Hedeservessomeone who can be there for him.
This is the biggest night of his life, and I’m not there for him.
It shouldn’t have takentodayfor me to realize how much I need to be there for him, and that thereisa way for this to work out for us.
A way that doesn’t involve only seeing each other for twelve hours overnight this month and three days next month and god only knows how little time the month after that.
And a way that still involves both of us doing what we were put on this earth to do. With just a few tweaks that I sincerely hope he’ll understand and agree with.
If he doesn’t—
Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll somehow pick myself up and go on, but I won’t change a damn bit of the tasks I assigned to everyone who works for Waverly Sweet, Inc.
My mom’s voice surrounds me as I head to the closet to gather everything I need for Hashtag too. I’ve had her album on repeat since I kicked everyone out, and for the first time since I left the studio earlier today, something really hits me.
I have a father.
No—I have a man who donated sperm once, and I happen to be a byproduct of his deposit.
And he knows that because Aunt Zinnia snuck a DNA sample from me when I was drugged up after getting my vision corrected and sent it to a DNA matching service so that she could investigate who might one day come after me if they ever thought we looked similar, and instead, a data breach at the matching service means that the entire world probably knows more about everyone I’m related to by blood now than I do.
“Why?” I whisper to my mom’s voice. “Why does everything have to feel sohard?”
The song answers me, exactly like I need it to.
Nothingworth it is ever easy
Everything hard is always worth it
My breath catchesin my throat again.
I wish she was here.
I wish she could’ve met Cooper. I wish she could’ve seen what Aunt Zinnia was doing, and I wish she would’ve told me there’s an expiration date on family as career managers in this business.
I wish we could’ve gone on tour together.
I wish I’d listened to her songs more instead of letting the lyrics slowly fade into the background as words I’d hum along with instead ofhearing.
She told me everything I needed to know in her last album, and it wasn’t untiltodaythat I truly listened.
Maybe I’m being a romantic fool. Maybe I’m reading things that aren’t there.
But my mom’s last album tells the story of a woman who wanted love, never took a chance on it, and wouldn’t get another opportunity.
It’s the story of a woman who hopes her friends and family live every minute to the fullest.
My life has been busy, and my life has been successful, and parts of my life have been rewarding and fulfilling, but my life is not full. I don’t live it to make me happy, and until I add myself into this equation, I will neverbethe kind of happy that every human being deserves to be.
And that ends today.
I swipe away my tears, tell the fear to shut the fuck up, and drop my bag onto my bed next to my cat. “You ready, Hashtag?”
He’s high on catnip. I tossed him an entire bundle the minute we were alone in the house, since he was obviously upset at how much of an emotional and physical tornado I turned into, and now he’s clearly having an out-of-body experience. His eyes are glazed over, tongue lolling out, as he lies on his back and bats lazily at imaginary pixies.
