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“I’m still sorry he treated you the way he did.”
“He has his own demons. I guess we all do,” I said thinking of Bex.
“You’re right about that.” He took my hand. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. More than you know.” My stupid nose prickled again. I was not going to cry. I’d cried enough in the last month to last me forever. I wasn’t that girl, the one who always had tears in her beer.
“Are you sure you don’t want Kieran?”
“I’m sure.”
“Maybe we can start over, Claire. I’d like to call you sometime.”
I laughed. “I’d like you to call me. Hell, let’s get crazy. You could even text.”
“That might be too rich for my blood.” He winked.
“Okay. How about tonight we celebrate like we planned. Midnight picnic, champagne under the stars to celebrate Chubbalicious and your graduation.”
“You don’t think that might be a little too familiar too soon?”
I considered him for a moment. There was no doubt he made my body sing, but that’s not what I was after. “No, I don’t. See, I want you to be my friend first. Like you offered before. Midnight picnics are my favorite things.”
“What if I can’t help but get fresh?”
“No, I know you.” And I realized that while I may not know everything about Brant Edward Bowman, I knew the important things.
“All the mystery is gone already,” he teased.
“Mystery is overrated. Intimacy is kind of nice.”
“Kinda. If you’re into that.” He wrapped his arm around my waist. “So, you want to get out of here?”
“What about the reception?”
“Fuck it. You’re the person I wanted here and you came. That’s all I needed.”
“Okay, it’s a long time until picnic time. What do you want to do?”
“How about we get some supplies for our picnic and take some long drives down some unknown country roads until we find a place we like?”
“Yeah, that sounds rather perfect.”
As I walked with him out to his car, I knew I was going to get my happily ever after. I didn’t know if it was going to be with Brant, but I had the rest of my life with a version of myself I was proud to be.
As it turned out, being fat wasn’t the worst thing I could be. I didn’t have to change my outside to get my happy ending. I had to change my insides.
One of my favorite romance writers says that happy ever after is a journey not a destination.
I think she’s right.
* * *
Are you ready for Bex’s story? You can read about her journey here:
Slut
“You’re a woman who is comfortable in her own sexuality. That necessarily means you must be labeled, categorized and filed away for everyone’s safety.”
Rebecca “Bex” Foxworth likes that description of herself. It makes her sound strong, dangerous, and powerful—like she’s standing against some grand injustice by using her body as she sees fit. That’s how her friend Claire Howard sees her and if Claire has taught her anything, it’s that labels are defined by the people who wear them, and not the other way around.
But SLUT is more than a label to Bex: it’s her armor. It protects her from ever having to share her true self. The loop in her head tells her she’s innately flawed and wholly unworthy. Why else would her parents insist she go under the knife for a new nose, a new body, and plastic perfection?
That’s something Thornton Henry Edgeleaf would never understand. Thornton is perfect, in every way—handsome, worldly, passionate—with just one unforgivable flaw: he’s utterly sincere. It makes Bex want to run screaming, back into the familiar, indifferent arms of men who won’t fail to dismiss and mistreat her. But nothing’s as easy as it used to be…
