Not a thing.
And it feels . . . great.
At last, I understand my emotions. What was confusing is now clear. Feeling nothing for her feels utterly fantastic.
“But you don’t seem happy,” she adds, stepping closer, waving her hand at my face again. “You’re all frowny. Talk to me.”
There’s nothing to discuss with her. If I’m frowny, it’s because I’m making a plan for the day. I have things to do. Yoga classes to check out. A replacement to find. A tough conversation to have with my sister. And a DNA donator to kick the fuck out of my house.
I smile, deep and delighted at last. I draw a fulfilling, gorgeous breath that fuels me, then lock eyes with her. “I don’t actually care about your engagement or your wedding, Mom. Or your life, for that matter. So if you’re wondering what I’m thinking, it’s this—I don’t care. And I feel great about that.”
I am wildly thrilled to say all that. It’s not a zinger. It’s just the truth.
Her jaw drops. She is the definition of aghast. “And to think I came all this way to ask you to be my maid of honor.”
I bark out a laugh, clasping my belly. Truly, that’s hilarious. So damn funny I can’t wait to tell Emerson and Olive and my dad.
“The answer is no. Let me show you out.” Now my tone isn’t flat, isn’t empty. It’s wickedly amused.
She’s more selfish than I ever imagined, and I no longer feel small. I no longer feel betrayed by her decision to romance my former fiancé.
Thank God she took him from me.
If I’d gone through with that dumb decision, I’d have said I do to the wrong man, a man who wasn’t right for me.
And if I’d walked down the aisle, I’d never have run into Harlan again. Harlan—the man who makes my heart and body sing.
There is no convincing, no tricking, no uncertainty with Harlan.
If my mother hadn’t snagged Silvio, I wouldn’t have found all my own strength—the strength to live entirely differently from her.
I owe her nothing.
I owe myself so much more.
Thank you, universe, for showing me that.
I stride to the door, yank it open, and sweep out my arm. “I believe we’re done.”
The second she leaves, I grab my phone, and take the next step—something I should have done a week ago.
27
Katie
I don’t like to bail on appointments, but I have to. As I snag a Lyft, I call Elliot at my yoga studio.
“Hey, Ells. I need a favor. Big time.”
“Anything for you, doll,” he says brightly. “Do you need me to grab you a hot tea or a lemon cookie from Doctor Insomnia’s?”
“Both sound delish. Get them for yourself and put them on my tab. But actually, I need you to reschedule the videographer. I’m so sorry, and I’ll pay his fee for today, of course. But something came up and I have to take care of it.”
“Of course, love. Everything okay?”
I smile, unsure of the answer, but hopeful. “That’s the goal.”
Then I call Olive to tell her I’m coming to see her, but she doesn’t answer.
Oh well. I’m going in anyway.
I’m rarely here at our corporate office in Hayes Valley, but I still know nearly everyone, so I say hi to our employees as I walk through the cubes.
As I head for Olive’s office, nerves thrum through me.
Should I have said something to her sooner? Let her in on my plans?
The nerves take flight as I reach her door, ajar as always. Whether I picked the wrong time or not, I still need to do this.
Deep breath.
I’ve got this.
I rap my knuckles on the wood, peeking around. She’s stretched out on her couch.
She and Zachary are pointing to his laptop, laughing hard at the screen. “And then it goes like this.” He lifts a hand and mimes swatting something . . . off a counter, maybe?
Ah, they must be watching cat videos. Olive is addicted to evil cats.
Olive looks up, laughing still as she waves me in. “You have to see this one. This tuxedo is such an asshole. She knocked over the coffee-maker for literally no reason.”
Zachary stares at her. “Olive, there’s not no reason. She’s a cat. That’s reason enough.”
“True, true.”
I join them on the couch, watching the video of a dastardly cat swatting mugs, vases, shot glasses, and more to the floor in a cacophony of sound and feline destruction. When the demolition is complete, Zachary shuts his laptop, winded from laughter.
Olive is his twin in chuckling. I’m not sure if this means she’ll be in a better mood to receive my news or if I’m about to burst her bubble.
Zachary pushes his glasses up his nose then stands, clutching the silver laptop. “I’ve got a conference call, so I better take off. Good to see you, Katie. Don’t be a stranger.” Then he leaves, shutting the door.