Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I furrow my brow. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“If you’re going to lie to me, then do it well. Did you have an argument with one of your friends during your girls’ night out?”
I snort. “Of course not. We had a great time.”
Dad studies my face for a long moment. “Did something happen with that guy you were dating?”
I exhale. “Yeah, it’s over with him. As it turns out, he’s married.”
Dad grimaces. “Sorry.”
“I found out last week, and I was really upset about it. But I’m okay now. Looking back, I wasn’t even my true self with him. I never even told him about Ripley, so how real could I have been?”
“Even so, it couldn’t have felt good to find out he’d lied to you, all along.”
I twist my mouth. “I think what’s bothering me is that being with him—the fantasy of him, anyway—made me realize I’m ready to settle down. I’m ready to find the kind of guy I would want to introduce to Ripley. For a minute there, I felt like I’d lost my chance at that.” I pat his leg. “But I’m okay now. Moving on.”
He’s not buying it. “It seemed like something was really bothering you when you got home yesterday. Was it the thing with the married guy, even though you found out about him last week?”
Shoot. Why’d I tell him the actual timeline? It would have been so much easier to blame yesterday’s foul mood on Alexander and leave it at that. Suddenly, images of Max’s forlorn face slam into me and cause my entire body to shudder in shame and regret. Since the moment I sprinted out of Max’s apartment yesterday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that moment and feeling horrendously guilty about it. I feel like I handled things horribly with him; but on the other hand, what else could I have done?
On a selfish note, I’ve also been feeling acute waves of disappointment since yesterday that I won’t get to see Max again. That I missed out on yesterday’s breakfast with him and that dinner date later this week. Even though I know Max isn’t boyfriend material, I’d love to have sex with him again. Plus, I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with him. Chatting with him. He’s an interesting, intelligent person, unlike anyone I’ve ever met—a fascinating blend of ambitious, intelligent, funny, and attentive. With all that going for him, I certainly wouldn’t have minded making him my fuck buddy for a while, while I start looking for Mr. Right.
I smile at Dad. “You’re right, Dad. The gloominess you sensed from me yesterday wasn’t about the married guy. It was about someone else. I met a guy at a bar on Friday when I was out with my friends. Someone I liked a lot. But he’s not boyfriend material, so the fact that I was super attracted to him, right on the heels of me being with that married guy, made me wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve obviously got major issues when it comes to men, and I think maybe I should address them, rather than continuing to chase the wrong ones. I’m just so, I don’t know, self-destructive. That was fine when I only had myself to take care of, but I want to be a great mother to Ripley. A role model.” Tears prick my eyes. “And I also miss Mom. So much, it hurts. Sometimes, I just feel so alone and heartbroken. That’s how I was feeling when I came home yesterday. Like I would have given anything to talk to Mom.”
“Aw, baby, come here.”
I dive into my father’s arms, and he cuddles me like I’m fourteen again while I cry.
I sniffle. “When things didn’t work out with the guy from the bar, I wanted so badly to call Mom and tell her the whole story. I even left her a voicemail.”
“Aw, sweetheart.”
“I called Lucy. She was amazing, but she isn’t Mom. Nobody is.”
“She was one of a kind.”
I wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry to unload on you like this. I know you’re dealing with your own grief.”
“It helps me to feel less alone when you open up to me, honey. I’ve been struggling, too.”
“Oh, Dad. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to burden you. That’s why I’ve kept it to myself.”
“You’re not a burden, Marnie. Talking to you like this is a blessing.”
I burst into tears again and cry on my father’s shoulder for a solid twenty minutes. When I finally pull myself together, we talk and talk. About our mutual grief at the loss of my mother. About the fact that we’re both stuck in our grief, feeling incapable of moving through it. We talk about my floundering business and the fact that it’s a symbol of the fact that I can’t seem to get my shit together in all aspects of my life. We talk about Ripley and how much we both love and adore her and want her to grow up happy, healthy, and safe—and with a mother who kicks ass and takes names and shows her the way, the same way Mom did for me.