“No. And I haven’t told you the problem yet. I did all of that, and then I blew it.”
She quickly gave Madison a rundown of what had happened at the dress shop. Her friend was silent for a beat until she finished, and then she growled, “I hate your father so much.”
Eve wished she could hate Brendan. She’d rather hate him than feel this yearning desperation for a father who had always been needlessly cruel to her. “I didn’t tell you that story, I don’t think.”
“No.”
“It was only a dress. I overreacted,” she fretted.
“No, you didn’t.”
“I cracked, like I did when Livvy came back to town.”
“No. You. Didn’t. And you didn’t crack then either, or whatever you want to call it. Your reaction isn’t the problem here, love. You’ve done the best you can with the tools you have at your disposal, and every emotion and reaction you have is valid and fine.”
The words were simple and Eve knew Madison wouldn’t tell her she’d overreacted or anything, but she felt validated nonetheless. “Why is feeling so hard?”
“Well, you’re kind of new at it. You’ve been shoving your feelings down for ages.” Madison growled again, “Ugh, have I mentioned how much I hate Brendan? I’m going to dick punch him.”
“Don’t dick punch him.”
“Remember that time you purposefully spilled your coffee on Malcolm’s Burberry scarf sophomore year?”
Eve smiled. “Yes.”
“That was your version of a dick punch. Best friends get to dick punch men who are awful to their best friends.”
She swiped the back of her hand over her nose. “I don’t think much of myself, Madison. But I don’t think I can be so awful of a person if you can love me.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Madison cleared her throat. “You are not an awful person at all,” she said, and her voice was husky. “And I do love you, but you don’t need anyone’s love to validate that you’re not an awful person. You’re simply a wonderful person.”
“Are you guys done yet?” Reese’s distant, annoyed voice came through over the line. “You live together! Can’t you build each other up when she gets back?”
“Go make us some sandwiches, Reese,” Madison shot back.
Eve ran the back of her hand over her eyes and laughed. She never cried much, but today the tears kept coming. “Go hang out with your boyfriend.”
“Hisbutt can wait.”
“Madison!”
“Put mustard on my sandwich!” Madison yelled back.
Eve grinned, her spirits firmly lifted. “I love you.”
“Call or text me the second you start to feel like something is wrong with you,” Madison said sternly. “I don’t care if I have Reese’s butt right in my face, I’ll shove it aside to tell you there isn’t.”
Eve smiled. “I will. Bye.”
She tucked her phone away. Though it was extremely unladylike, she used her shirt to mop up her tears. A few deep breaths later, and she felt steady enough to return home.
Her roundabout, rambling walk meant she emerged from the woods near the front of the mansion. The setting sun highlighted the beauty of the huge house. The architecture was grand, the pillars in the front making it look even bigger than it was.
For a second it was like someone had put tracing paper over the home, and she could imagine that this was the estate she’d used to frolic in as a child when they’d come up to this very lake.
She had loved that house, though she’d often been alone—her brother, Paul, Livvy, and Jackson all off together. She’d patter along behind her mother as Maria hummed and danced in the kitchen. Her mom had liked cooking.
Maria, we have people who do that for us. Stop acting like you’re still poor.
