“I think it was brave to come clean,” Stella says. “I’m glad you did.”
“Everyone hates me for it, though.”
“I have a question: Even when you were getting all the accolades fromSlickreaders, was that really what you wanted to be writing?”
“No,” I say. “I always wanted to write more serious stuff. Not that dating isn’t serious, but just more… about issues.”
“Like?”
I sniff, wiping my nose. “Climate change. Women running for political office. Really, anything that doesn’t involve makeup or dating.”
“So, what’s stopping you?”
“Everything.” I sigh.
“Look, you can’t be something new and great without saying goodbye to something old and comfortable. You have to make room in your life for the things you want. And if it’s not writing forSlick,then it’s time to move on.”
“You think I shouldn’t write forSlickanymore? I mean, actually, I don’t even know if Arial willletme write forSlick.”
“I think you should figure out what youdowant to write and write that.”
I sigh and finish my tequila. It burns on the way down. Just like everything else in my life right now.
She looks at me, worried.
“What’s that look?”
“What look?” She frowns.
“That clinical I’m-over-the-deep-end look you’re giving me right now?”
Stella takes a deep breath. She always does this when she wants to lay some truth on me, truth I probably don’t want to hear.
“I think you need to do some serious self-care.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, geez. Notthisagain. A freakin’ pedicure isn’t going to solve my problems.”
Stella laughs as she crosses her legs at the knee and leans forward, gently taking my glass from my hands and putting it on the breakfast bar. She’s got that squared-shoulders, ultra-focused, counselor stance again. “That’s not what I mean about self-care. Have you been listening to me at all?”
“Yes.” Maybe not. Sometimes when Stella gets too therapy-y I tune out.
“Self-care is aboutparentingyourself. Yes, it’s about being good to yourself with treats like pedicures, but it also means makingtough decisionsfor yourself. It means being the adult in your life.”
“I hate adulting.” I pour some more tequila in my glass and then put my elbow on the breakfast bar, resting my chin in my palm. Stella cocks her head to one side.
“Yes, I know,” she says. “But look around you. This is the condoyou and Marleybought. Why are you still here? I know for a fact that Marley loved this place more than you did. I ran into Pam on the way up here. She sucks all the positive energy from the room. Iknowyou want to be away from her.”
“Actually, we did have a nice conversation—”
“Okay, butoneconversation probably doesn’t change the fact that you’d rather not necessarily live above her, right?”
This is true.
“So why are you still living here? Nobody is making you.”
My old friend inertia is, but I think Stella won’t appreciate that.
“You had a job offer fromSlick,but you didn’t even want it, and if you want my opinion, I think you self-sabotaged.”
