Page 81 of A Perfect Fit

I’m quiet for a moment, considering what to say. When Oliver dumped me, I thought I was trapped in a maze of heartbreak. However, I got through it, and maybe what I experienced is a different heartbreak from what Hilary’s feeling, but is the common thread not that we all just want to be loved for who we are?

“I believe there’s someone special out there, waiting for you, Hilary,” I say and genuinely mean it. “One day, you’ll cross paths with them, and everything will make sense. That person will make you feel supported and appreciated, and your interactions won’t feel forced. They’ll feel natural.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Does it feel natural?” she then asks. “When you’re with Jackson?”

“Yeah,” I find myself answering without hesitation, “it does.”

The Isabelle from weeks ago would’ve given a different response, but lately, everything between me and Jackson has changed. Those fluttery feelings I get whenever I’m around him are becoming more frequent, and it’s as if there’s an invisible string that’s slowly pulling me closer and closer to him.

Hilary’s bottom lip trembles. “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

My heartbeat hammers against my ribs. “How did he look at me?”

“Like you were the single star in a night sky. Like you were a beautiful daydream and all he wanted to do was get lost in the thought of you. Like he was scared that if he looked away and turned back, you might be gone.”

My breaths turn shallow.

Did Jackson really look at me like that?

“I just want someone to look at me like that,” she adds, her voice a pained whisper. Another teardrop trickles down her cheek. “Is that too much to ask for?”

“It’s not.” I touch her arm. “You deserve that as much as anyone else.”

“I guess.” She wipes her tears away. “Thanks. For the chat and the tissues.”

“Of course,” I say, giving her a tiny smile. “See you back inside.”

After touching up my lipstick, I grab my clutch, making my way back to the ballroom.

“She’s one of the most amazing people I know, and whenever I’m with her, I’m reminded of how beautiful life can be.”

“Does it feel natural? When you’re with Jackson?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I saw the way he was looking at you.”

The line between what’s real and fake is blurring, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I thought tonight would be simple—attend the event and support Jackson. I’ve done that, or so I hope, but there’s nothing simple about the feelings churning my stomach right now.

I want to ask Jackson if tonight’s only for show and if he means everything he’s done and said to me, but I’m afraid of the answer.

Like at the reunion, when I asked him about our kiss and he simply told me not to think too much about it.

I don’t know if I—and my heart—can take it if I ask him and his response is similar to what he said last time. It’s scary to admit that he has that power over me, but not admitting it doesn’t make it any easier either.

“Bella.”

I stop in my tracks halfway down the hallway at Jackson’s voice.

“Hey,” I say.

“You were gone for a while. I was worried something had happened.”

“I’m okay.” The thought of him being worried about me causes my stomach to do a little flip. “I was chatting with Hilary.”

His brows pull together. “What did she say to you?”