“We don’t know that’s what’s happening. Maybe she’s trying to get with one of his brothers.”
Fidget pads into the room, carrying a bottle of wine.
“Good girl, Fidget.” Carolina struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle and tips it to my mouth.
I take a swig from the bottle. “This is how it always goes. If she was doing it on purpose, like, that would be one thing, but she’s not. She’s just existing as perfect Kathy, and men just fall all over themselves for her,” I wail. “I never even had a chance. I was so delusional. I mean, what was I thinking? Fitz was never going to fall in love with me. I was cheap entertainment.”
“Technically, you were free entertainment.”
I chug the wine. “Oh, we’re just going to drink—okay, the wine is gone. Fidget, go get another bottle.” I burp.
“I can’t imagine why Fitz isn’t collapsing to his knees in front of you.”
“I’m a mess,” I blubber. “My life is a mess. Why do I keep trusting these horrible, emotionally unstable men? I should add ‘billionaires’ to my list of men I’m not dating.”
“I mean, to be fair, all men are on the list of men you aren’t dating.”
My phone chimes. I fumble for it in the rumpled bedspread. Maybe it’s Fitz.
“Ugh.” I flop back down on the bed.
Carolina grabs my phone, reading, “‘You have a new connection! Message Bruno now to find love.’ Maybe this is the start of your happily ever—Nope, he just is texting you swimsuit photos he found of Kathy.”
Bruno:This you?
“He can’t even write correctly.”
“They all want Kathy.” I sniff.
Carolina makes a face and dumps a wad of tissues on me before I can wipe my nose on the bedsheet.
“I wish I was the pretty sister, not the smart sister,” I cough out.
“To be fair, both of you ended up in the exact same place, literally. So you’d just be crying in the other bedroom.”
“I need to block him on everything, right?”
“I really think you’re being a little hasty. I’ve always wanted a friend who has a boyfriend with a yacht. I think you could overlook this at least through the summer of nextyear. I mean, I bet he has a ski chalet. We could really live it up this winter too. Just lower your expectations.”
“I wanted him to marry me and give me children.”
The doorbell rings.
“Oh, Fidget, bless you.” The dog comes up, tail slowly wagging, her jaw clamped around a pizza box. “And you ordered supreme. Did you get garlic sauce?” Carolina asks the dog.
Fidget disappears.
“Dad must have plugged the Alexa back in. He likes to listen to it when he spends forty-five minutes in the bathroom at six a.m. Fuck my life. Where did I go wrong?”
“Well, your dog daughter did get garlic sauce after all,” Carolina says happily as Fidget dumps a plastic bag of sauces, parmesan packets, and chili-flake packets on the bed. “So you did something right.”
“I’m never going to have children,” I sob.
Fidget whines. “You’re still her baby,” Carolina assures the dog and tosses her a pepperoni slice.
I sadly select a piece of pizza.
“Oh my god,” Carolina exclaims as I’m crying on my pizza slice. “Ugh. Why is Loony Laura in all the drama?”
