Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)(83)

She lets go now and crosses her legs. “You would think that.”

I use the back of my hand to absorb the wetness from my face. “I’m sorry I’m dumping all of my problems on you, though. I feel terrible about it since you were having such a bad night too.”

“I’m not sorry at all. I’m thankful for it, in fact. It was nice to know for once when you need some emotional support.”

“That’s not your job, though.”

“And it’s never been your job either,” says Maddie, her voice shockingly firm. In fact, it’s a tone I didn’t even know she was capable of using. I watch silently as she tips forward and sandwiches my hands in hers. “Emily . . . you take on too much—and you hold yourself to this impossible standard of living that no one can survive on. And to be quite honest, it’s nice to see that you struggle just like the rest of us. That you need me occasionally just like I need you. So stop letting your pride and your perfectionism get in the way, and let me make you brownies, and tuck you into your favorite blanket, and coddle you while you feel like shit . . . okay?”

I nod, knowing she’s right. “Okay.”

“Good. And then . . . tomorrow, you’re going to let me read your book so that I can lavish you with compliments and tell you what an incredible writer you are so that you’ll send the damn thing out to more agents.”

“Maddie . . . I don’t know if . . .”

She puts her finger to my lips to silence me. “No excuses, Emily. You’re the toughest woman I know—and you deserve everything your heart desires. Not only that, but if Jackson Bennett thought your book was good, I know it is because that man has the best taste in the world.” She says this not even knowing that he is a world-famous author. “You can do hard things, Emily. I’ve seen it. This is just a new kind of scary for you. It’s something you’re doing on your own, not for anyone else, but for you. And that can make a person feel extra exposed sometimes. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it to push through—because the reward in the end will be that much sweeter.”

And there it is. That flicker I couldn’t pinpoint earlier grows to life, bold and bright.

I stare at her, my heart sinking from what I need to do. “Dammit, Madison.”

“What?”

I shut my eyes. “I wish you hadn’t said all of that.”

“Why?” She chuckles. “Because it was so inspirational it hurt a little?”

“Yes. And because now I have to tell you that you can’t come home.”

Her smile falls. “What?”

I lean forward and cup her face. “I love you. More than anything. And I love having you here, but New York is your hard, scary thing. And if you quit now just to come back home where you’re comfortable and safe, you’re going to regret it. I can’t let you do that. Go back. Get your culinary degree and then come home. Or . . .” I can’t believe I’m going to say this. “Or maybe try out another state. One that fits your vibes more. See where your career can take you. Maybe it’ll end up being the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

I kiss her forehead and drop my hands.

Her chin wobbles. “Thank you, Em.”

“And thank you. I . . . I really needed this tonight.” I’ve needed it for a long time, and it feels good to stop fighting it.

“Call me more often when you’re struggling, okay? Don’t keep it all to yourself anymore. We need each other and that’s good.”

“And tell me when you’re missing home. If it’s during the summer, I’ll come ride the subway with you until you feel better. And if it’s during the school year, I’ll send you a big care package.”

“Deal. But for now, how about I make us some brownies from scratch while you tell me everything about Jack that you left out the first time.” Her eyes twinkle. “Like why his shirt was wide open when he left.”

“Ugh. I need a break from thinking about Jack tonight. Tomorrow?”

“Fine,” she pouts.

Except we don’t get up immediately because Ducky wanders over and distracts Maddie with her supreme cuteness. My sister smooshes her face violently into the side of Ducky’s stomach and promises to buy her an entire cat kingdom if she will love her more than the rest of us Walker sisters. And knowing I don’t have to be alone tonight with my sadness, but I have my sister to help me shoulder some of it—it has me feeling like a Bob Ross painting when he adds some happy little clouds to the sky.

Would it feel this way with Jack too?

My gut says yes.

My fear, however, isn’t ready to let go quite yet where he’s concerned.





UNSENT DRAFT (1 year ago)

FROM: Emily Walker <[email protected]> TO: Jack Bennett <[email protected]> DATE: Sat, Sept 2 11:45 PM

SUBJECT: Congratulations?

I just heard the news about you and Zoe. I think I’m supposed to offer you congratulations on your new engagement—but I can’t. I know we’ve never really been friends so I have no right to be speaking in your life like this, but . . . I don’t think you should marry her. Something feels off about it.

And also . . . sometimes I think maybe we should be friends. Put our feud behind us for good?