“I guess that’s a whole different way of looking at it.”
“Exactly. It’s all in how you spin it.”
“Well, thank you for the perspective, I guess. But there’s something else. Another reason why I called you.”
“Shoot.”
I take a deep breath. Try to center myself.Just spit it out.“I can’t do thePeoplemagazine interview, Ev.”
He’s silent.
“Did you hear what I said?” I ask.
I hear him inhale. “Yeah. I heard you, Mel.”
“Are you mad?”
“No. I could never be mad at you. I don’t necessarily understand, but I’m not mad.”
“Can I explain?”
“Please.”
“I was with Beckett yesterday, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“And first I was annoyed and, like, what the fuck? Why would he stand me up? But then, seeing him out there, it felt like he was putting it all on the line, even just showing up to see me, you know? Like, he’s this guy who’s kind of famous, almost—he’s with someone who’s larger than life, his book sales are out of control, and sure, maybe he’s not a household name yet but he’s definitely on his way to getting there.”
“Okay,” Evan says.
“Do you ever feel like maybe you know what’s best for someone, even if they don’t know it themselves?”
“Um,yes, I am quite familiar with that feeling,” he replies. The irony of his answer is not lost on me, but I continue regardless.
“I think Beckett is better off living this amazing life that he’s created for himself. He doesn’t need aPeoplemagazine spread. And certainly not one that amplifies a week we had on vacation over two years ago, you know?That would do nothing but hurt his relationship with Analise. It’s almost like bad press for him, if we clear the air to the entire world and say what, exactly? That we fell in love in Aruba and ended up each writing a book about it, but in a very different way? Nobody wants to hear that. They want to hear about Analise’s wedding dress or how many carats her diamond is. They want the male romance author to have a whirlwind romance with the lead singer of the mega-famous girl band and for them to ride off into the sunset together and make a zillion babies. Nobody wants to know about the other random rom-com author who fucked it all up for them by getting in the way of that.”
“Mel? Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you still love him?”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
“Well?”
“I don’t know.” This isn’t exactly true, but it’s pretty humiliating to say that you love someone who is in the active process of achieving wedded bliss with someone else.
“Okay, let’s try it a different way, then. Do you think he still loves you?”
“He said he did. In the rain last night. He said, ‘It’s always been you.’”
“Do you believe him?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, I think it’s a romantic thought. But he has something real. And I was just a vacation fling, you know?”
“Would you write an entire book about someone who was just a vacation fling?”
