Sadie was supposed to be on her modified honeymoon, enjoying her new husband. Instead she was online, defending me.
It was then that the tears finally broke free, like an overflowing river breaching a dam. I’d been holding them in for so long, I couldn’t stop. My chest heaved and ached, my throat burning. Krista scooted over and put her arms around me, hugging me as I sobbed.
I had truly prepared for Sadie to throw me under the bus in order to protect herself and her brand. I should have known better. I should have given her the benefit of the doubt.
Once I’d turned myself into a soggy, snotty mess, Krista got up to grab me some paper towels so that I could clean up my now slightly swollen face. My eyes hurt. I wondered if they were puffy and bloodshot.
“I can’t believe she did that,” I said.
Krista replied, “I can. Everything she said was true. You twisted yourself into knots for her.”
“But I didn’t prevent all of that stuff from happening. I should have.”
She frowned at me. “I love you, but that is so idiotic. You can’t control other people and you can’t control the world, either.”
“I just really messed up.” Because I had been distracted by falling in love with Camden Lewis, but there was no way I could speak his name, given my current state. I was only barely hanging on and was so close to another huge emotional outburst.
“What is the deeper thing going on here?” Krista asked. “Why do you always have to succeed? Is this about trying to please your unpleasable parents?”
“What makes you say that?”
“So many things in our life go back to our parents. My mom married an abusive man and I ended up following in her footsteps, reliving some of the same patterns. We can’t let that kind of stuff have control over us.”
I had to admit that she was right. I knew my parents adored me, but I often felt like I’d failed them in one aspect or another. Yes, I’d won a position in student government, but my mom had wanted to know why it was only for treasurer and not president. Yes, it was great that I’d been accepted to UCLA, but why didn’t I get a full-ride scholarship? How nice for me that I’d started my own business and employed over a dozen people, but what about that whole grandchildren thing?
My mom was only human and probably had her own insecurities and issues that affected her and made her behave the way she did. Because I loved her, it was easy enough to forgive, but maybe Krista was right and I needed to examine and undo the ways that it had wormed into my life and made me feel panicked about failing.
About a potentially fantastic relationship failing before I had even given it a chance.
Krista handed me another paper towel. “You did the best you could and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”
“Maybe it’s part of being an only child,” I said.
“Maybe.” She nodded. “But I don’t know what that’s like. I have four sisters and they’re all pains in my butt.”
That struck me as funny and I laughed. It was the first time I’d laughed in the last twenty-four hours and I was grateful for it. Then I remembered my situation and sobered up. “We don’t know what’s going to happen with the company.”
“One thing at a time,” she told me. Then she sat silently for a moment, as if carefully considering what to say next. “What about Camden?”
His name was like a knife being plunged into my gut. I actually scooted back on the couch, as if I could get away from the pain. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
Because I could think about Sadie and what had happened at the wedding and it was upsetting, but it wasn’t world-ending. And when I thought about Camden . . . it was just more than I could bear.
I didn’t want to think about moving forward with a life that didn’t include him.
I couldn’t let myself go down that path.
“Just tell me what happened. You should tell someone.”
She was right. I’d already shed every tear that had been stored up inside me, so maybe I could get through this without completely breaking down. So I confided in her, telling her all the details of what had happened, what he’d said, how he was finished with me. With us.
“Where do you get that from?” she asked. “He didn’t say he wanted to break up with you.”
“I inferred it from him walking away from me. I’m pretty good at reading those kinds of obvious signals.” He didn’t stay and fight. That was the part that mattered.
She frowned at me. “Maybe he just needed a second.”