Page 16 of A Perfect Fit

Now, Oliver’s just another blocked number on my phone. I heard he’d moved to San Francisco and then back to New York, but his life doesn’t concern me anymore.

“Come on, Jane. Don’t be like that!” Dad exclaims. “You know Oliver was an ass.”

A small smile creeps up my lips. Dad never swears, and I think ass might be the only exception.

Mom heaves a sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine,” I quietly say.

Ivy jumps in and starts giving us an overview of her engagement party plans while I continue eating in silence, feeling like an outsider in my family home.

At certain points, I catch Mom staring at me with what I’m sure is a judgmental look in her eyes. Nothing I do will be good enough for her. From that day in senior year, when I told her I didn’t want to pursue a career in law, I was deemed a disappointment to the family.

And I’m not sure if that’s ever going to change.

Chapter Six

ISABELLE

“Ican’t believe you handmade these. They’re all gorgeous,” my latest visitor at my booth says, beaming as she picks out a yellow floral top. “I’d love to buy this one for my daughter.”

The blissful feeling of acquiring a new customer envelops my body, like tasting the first scoop of ice cream on a hot summer day. “Thank you so much, ma’am.”

I recently registered to run a booth on Saturdays at Brooklyn Flea for the next few weeks. I’ve done it before and had so much fun—interacting with visitors (even for my introverted self), all while enjoying great city views and the backdrop of the Manhattan Bridge.

“You’re welcome.” She takes out her card to pay. “Your mother must be proud of you.”

A tight knot forms in my stomach.

“I guess,” I say, faking a smile. It’s easier than explaining that my mom would rather see me working inside a law firm. “Have a great day.”

“You too,” she says before heading off.

Jen, who’s been working on the other side of my booth, walks over. “We sold another two of the pink dresses.”

“You’re amazing,” I say.

“I know.” She smooths her hair and glances around. There aren’t any new customers right now. “Okay … thoughts on the upcoming high school reunion?”

I ponder on the question. “I mean, it would be nice to see our cohort, but I don’t know if I’m ready to face Oliver again.”

Oliver would show up at the reunion, no doubt. He loves large gatherings and any opportunity to be the center of attention.

I’ve always wondered what would happen if I ran into him again one day. Would he apologize and give me closure as to why he ended things? Would I dramatically throw wine in his face? Or would I simply act like he was nothing more than someone I used to know?

“You want to know what I think? You should show up to the event like the queen you are and show his ugly ass what he’s missing out on,” Jen says. “Like, you started your own business at twenty-two. You’re hardworking, passionate, and one of the most beautiful souls I know. And what is he? A bullet you dodged and the trash taking itself out.”

Her words ignite a flame within me, which grows bigger and bigger, burning out my apprehension from only moments ago.

She’s absolutely right.

“I’m not the one who ended a six-year relationship with someone over text and ghosted them!” I exclaim, slamming the table at my booth. “If anything, he should be the one who feels bad about seeing me again, not the other way around!”

“Exactly!”

“I’m going to attend the reunion and show him what he let go of!” I vow and start pacing up and down my booth like a woman on a mission.

“That’s the spirit!” Jen clasps her hands together. “Wait, I have an idea. You should bring a plus-one.”