“Iknow. She’s been amazing, which is part of why I feel bad forencroaching on your time together.”
“Stella.” Wesley shifts to face me, planting both hands on myshoulders. “You’re not encroaching, you’re not in the way, you’renot cramping our style. Wait, do people still say that? ‘Crampingour style’?”
“I’mthe wrong person to ask about stuff like that,” I say with alaugh.
Oneside of his mouth turns up. “Anyway, you get my point. Wewantyou around. We loveyou.” He squeezes my shoulders. “I’ve been in love with Evie sinceI was a teenager. Believe me when I say I’ve learned to be patient.Getting to be with her at all, no matter who’s around or how manytimes Mom wants us to come for dinner when we planned to be alone,it’s still a dream come true to finally be with her.”
His words, pairedwith his love-struck expression, give me the warm fuzzies. They’reaccompanied by a bittersweet mix of sadness and envy. Hoping tocover up the myriad of emotions I’m sure are painted all over myface, I step into my brother’s arms and give him a tight hug. “Thatwas nauseatingly sweet, and you two are disgustingly adorabletogether. I couldn’t be happier for you.”
Wesley chucklesand shoves me gently away from him. Using the momentum of his push,I spin around and walk down the hall.
“Nicejammies, by the way,” he calls after me.
I runinto Evie as she’s coming out of her bedroom. The grin on her facetells me she heard at least the last thing Wesley said. “I told himhow much you loveTheMandalorian,” she says, motioning to mypajamas. “He wanted to watch it, but I suggested the three of uswatch it together.”
“Okay,now Ireallyneedto go. You two are sickeningly nice and I can’t handle it, nor do Ideserve it.” I laugh as I turn away, but Evie grips my arm to stopme.
“I knowyou well enough to know you’re kidding but alsonotkidding.” The sympathy in hereyes makes my skin feel too tight. “Did you really cancel on Tannisor did something else happen?”
I sigh. I shouldhave known Evie wouldn’t let this go. At least I can take comfortin the fact she’s not the type to say ‘I told you so’. Well, notwhen it comes to stuff like this anyway.
“Both.She texted to say she was going to be lateagain, and something in me snappedand finally saw that enough was enough. I had this sudden epiphanyabout how I keep making terrible decisions and settling for all thewrong things. And people.”
Evie nods slowly.I can tell she wants to hug me; normally I’d be all for that, butI’m afraid her loving embrace would push me over the proverbialedge right now. “You’re still healing, Stella. Lars really messedwith your head.”
Now my skin is notonly too tight, it’s also covered in goosebumps at the mention ofmy ex-husband. And not the good kind of goosebumps you get whensomething exciting happens or a person you likeaccidentally-on-purpose brushes their fingers against your bareskin. More like the kind you get while watching a horror movie andsense impending doom for whoever’s on screen.
“I wishyou could see yourself the way I see you.” Evie gently touches mycheek. “The way Wesley, Hollie, and Louisa see you too,” she adds,referencing our other two lifelong friends. “You deserve the best,Stella. Stop settling for being an option instead of the priorityyoudeservetobe.”
She’s not sayinganything she hasn’t already said before. Prior to meeting Lars,Evie and I shared everything from the mundane to the extraordinaryand all things in between. I knew Evie wasn’t fond of Lars, but Ibrushed off her tentative warnings, along with the red flags hepresented. As my marriage fell apart, I was finally honest withEvie about Lars not being the man I thought he was when I fell inlove with him and agreed to marry him. When I moved back toBellevue, Evie and I made a pact to always be honest with eachother going forward. Because of that, she’s never hidden herfeelings about Tannis.
Evie must senseI’m not up for talking about this, because she gives an almostimperceptible nod. I could kiss her when her expression lightensfrom sympathy to something almost playful. “Are you sure you won’tstay and hang out? Or you can keep your messy little nest in theliving room and Wesley and I can hang out in my room.”
I wrinkle my nose.While Evie’s condo is mostly soundproof, I don’t want to thinkabout my brother and my best friend doing…whatever it is they’d bedoing behind closed doors while I watch TV on the couch. “Hardpass, but thanks,” I say, and she laughs. “I’ll head to BellevueVillage. I can put in ages wandering around the shops there, andI’ll pop into Cravings and see if Willow is working.”
“Ifyou’re sure…”
“Positive,” I say firmly.
Her uncertaintywavers as I smile and hold my arms out for a hug. She snugglesagainst me, and I swallow another sigh as I hold on tightly. Imentally repeat what I said to Wesley a few minutes ago: it won’talways be like this.
I hold onto thatthought—and my best friend—like a lifeline.
CHAPTER TWO
Bellevue Villageis a huge entertainment park on the outskirts of the city. Until afew years ago, it was a Christmas theme park, only open a fewmonths of the year. Unlike my three closest friends who are allsuccessful in their chosen careers, I’ve always moved from job tojob, taking what I can get in the hopes I’d someday find mycalling. It hasn’t happened yet, but the two seasons I worked asone of Santa’s elves before I got married and moved to Toronto wereamong the highlights of my working life.
Even though I’vebeen to the Village a million times, it never ceases to fill mewith wonder. It’s like stepping into a different world, one filledwith shops and eateries, rides and games, and happy people of allages bustling around. Whenever I come here, I feel as if I canleave my troubles at the giant front gates. I know they’ll be therewaiting for me when I leave, but for a short time, I get to putdown that emotional baggage and feel the blessed relief ofweightlessness.
I pause outsidethe bookstore, admiring the seasonal display in the front window.Through the glass, I watch as a trio of tween girls huddle around astack of books they’ve accumulated. They remind me of my friendsand me at that age, and how we would pool our allowances to buy andshare books—specifically Baby-Sitters Club and Sweet Valley Highbooks—among other things.
Someone pausesnext to me. My attention shifts to the reflection in the window’sglass. I’m not sure whether the man beside me is gazing inside orjust likes to stand unnecessarily close to strangers. I narrow myeyes slightly, trying to bring his face into focus. For a second, ayounger, familiar face fixes itself over his, making me think mywalk down memory lane has scrambled my brain.
“Canyou imagine if this place had been here when we were teenagers?”the man asks. “Our parents would have had to pry usaway.”
His tone ispitched low, as if he’s talking to someone he knows rather than arandom woman he encountered at an amusement park. I turn my headslowly, already knowing I’ll be met with a pair of dark browneyes.
Ittakes me a moment to find my voice. I’m proud of myself that itdoesn’t waver as I say, “And they would have had tophysicallycomehere to pry us away since those were the days before cellphones.”
