CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Over the next few weeks, I keep myself so busy I don’t have time to dwell on what happened with Jasper. I expect Marisol to remind me of my promise to loosen the reins with Cravings and take a step back, but I think she understands I need to work right now. I need to stay occupied to the point of exhaustion in order to keep functioning.
The morning after the wedding, I spackled a ton of makeup over the dark circles under my eyes, slapped on a smile, and dragged my hungover ass to Gwen and Evan’s post-wedding brunch. I wanted so badly to bail, but I couldn’t do that to my friends. I’m still undecided whether I was grateful for or disappointed in the fact Jasper had left for Toronto early that morning after telling his brother he was ‘unwell’. I talked and laughed and smiled my way through brunch, promising myself I could fall apart later. That became the mantra that kept me going.
And when I finally went home and allowed myself to fall apart, it was epic. I’m surprised I didn’t slip into a sugar coma after all the booze and junk food I consumed. At Marisol’s insistence, I took a few days off, during which I lived in my pajamas and didn’t leave the apartment. It was my mom who finally came over and forced me to shower, eat a proper meal, and share my feelings. I realized wallowing didn’t feel as good as I hoped it would; it only made me miss Jasper more. Ever since then, I’ve been a machine, coming up with and executing a flurry of new ideas for Cravings. Turns out getting my heart broken had the unexpected side effect of stoking my creativity.
My first task when I returned to work was carrying through with my idea for the pumpkin decorating contest. Thankfully, I already had almost everything I needed, and the last-minute announcement just a few days before Halloween didn’t seem to deter people. It was a huge success, giving me a much-needed boost of confidence. It spurred me on to implement many of the other ideas I had scribbled down in my notebook over the years. Now I’m on to planning Christmas events and menus.
Gwen and Evan return from their honeymoon to Europe at the beginning of the second week of November. On Gwen’s first day back to work, she comes into the café to invite me over for dinner the next night. When I hesitate, Marisol calls from the back that I’ll be there.
“You can’t hide out and bury yourself in work forever,” she says in response to my death glare after Gwen has left. “I know it’s weird they’re Jasper’s family, but they’re also two of your closest friends. Don’t let your current feelings cloud that.”
Marisol comes to my apartment the next night, claiming it’s because she needs help getting ready for a date. I think it’s really because she wants to make sure I don’t back out on dinner with Gwen and Evan. After choosing an outfit for me and swiping some light makeup on my face, she rummages around in my closet and emerges with an old rainbow sweater I forgot I owned. Paired with the tight black jeans and red tank top she was already wearing, she’s somehow both sexy and cute.
“You look hot,” I tell her as she buckles her black ankle boots. “Who’s the lucky person tonight?”
“Carmen and I are going out again,” she says.
“Wow. What’s this, the third time you’ve gone out with her?”
“Fourth.” Marisol straightens, meeting my gaze. “I know,” she adds when she sees my wide eyes.
“How do you do it, Mar?”
“Do what, babycakes?” She leans closer to the mirror behind the door to apply a coat of bold red lipstick.
“Keep the faith that the right person will come along? Not get attached to the people you date? Have fun, let go…be a normal person who doesn’t fall for the wrong guy and get her heart crushed?”
A battle of sympathy and amusement plays out across Marisol’s expression. Sympathy wins. “You and I approach love, romance, and sex very differently,” she says, plopping down next to me on the couch. “What works for me would never work for you. You’re not a casual dating person, you’re a relationship person. Someday I want to be a relationship person too, but for now I’m having too much fun.”
“I wish I could be more like you.”
“AndIwish I could be more likeyou. The older I get, the more I wonder if ‘keeping things casual’ is actually a handy excuse to keep people at a distance. A way to safeguard my heart so whoever I’m dating knows from the get-go I’m not interested in anything serious. I think I’ve become so used to these surface level encounters that I don’t know how to do anything else. Deep down, I’m actually terrified of falling in love even though my heart says it’s what it wants more than anything.”
Wow. I’m so stunned, I have no idea what to say.
“I don’t think this is really about me, though,” Marisol says, angling on the couch so she’s fully facing me. “I want to say this and then we both need to get a move on. I’m obviously no relationship expert, but Iama Willow Stewart expert, and here’s what I think: Maybe your time with Jasper was a stepping stone of sorts. Something to shake things up, show you it’s okay to open up and be yourself. To develop feelings and let someone in. I know it really fucking sucks that it didn’t work out, but that’s not a reflection on you or your worth. You know that, right?”
Despite the non-committal sound I make, Idoknow that.
At my nod, Marisol continues. “Life is meant to be lived. Unfortunately, that means getting hurt sometimes. It also means making mistakes, learning, growing, and occasionally even having your heart broken. Some things happen in order to teach us something about ourselves or life in general. Even when those lessons are painful—like now—you can’t let them deter you.”
“I know you’re right, but…I’m still trying to find the lesson in all this,” I say, my voice wavering. Will I ever be able to talk about this without emotion welling up inside and threatening to choke me?
“You’ll get there.” Marisol’s hand lands on my thigh and gives a comforting squeeze. “I think the fact you opened your heart to Jasper is part of the lesson. It reminded you you’re capable of being vulnerable, showing someone the sides of yourself you sometimes keep hidden. You knew it had the potential to end in heartache, the wayanyrelationship does, but you went for it anyway.”
She grips my hand and gets to her feet, pulling me with her. “Take the time you need to heal, but don’t let it harden your heart. You did that after TJ, and you havewaytoo much love and light to give to let it happen again.”
I ponder her words as she turns me toward the front door and gives my butt a gentle smack to get me moving. I never thought of it as hardening my heart, although I guess that’s what I did. At the very least, I created a protective shell around it—one I had no interest in letting anyone penetrate until Jasper came along.
“I know you’re secretly holding out hope Jasper will come around, and I can’t blame you for that,” Marisol says. “You need to keep living your life regardless, though. You, Willow Stewart, deserve the absolute best, and if you have trouble believing that or keeping the faith, I’ll believe enough for the both of us until you get there.”
I stop and whip around suddenly, causing Marisol to plow into me. We both let out a loud‘oof’as we scrabble at each other to keep steady. When we fall against each other, we turn it into a hug, giggling uncontrollably as we rock back and forth.
“I love you.” I squeeze her so tight she lets out a squeak, followed by more giggles. “Thank you for being such an amazing friend.”
“Always.”
