Much Ado About You

“Are you listening to yourself? Are you deliberately deluding yourself? A heterosexual man and woman cannot have that kind of connection and it not turn sexual. Are you saying there isn’t even a tiny bit of you that’s attracted to this guy?”

“So what if there is?” I snapped, forgetting my vow not to argue with her. “I’m not going to do anything about it. I didn’t come here for that. I came here because I was so goddamn lonely in Chicago, I couldn’t bear it, and until I figure out why that was, I’m staying here.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I squeezed my eyes closed in regret.

This time I wasn’t surprised by Greer’s silence.

“I didn’t mean that,” I whispered.

“Yeah, you did. And it breaks my heart that I didn’t know that.” She released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m . . . just sad that you’ll miss out on most of my pregnancy, which is selfish. We’re all following your Instagram here and you . . . God, you look so happy over there. I’m just worried. I miss my best friend.”

Tears stung my eyes. “You don’t think I miss you? You were the only thing holding me back from making this decision, and I feel selfish as hell for staying here while you’re pregnant.”

“Don’t. I was a snippy bitch before. Don’t feel guilty about this, Evie. This is your life, and what you said before you left is true. Your friends can’t stand still for you, but you can’t be our sidekick as our lives move forward. I don’t want you to be lonely,” she sniffled. “It kills me that you were lonely here.”

The tears that had been threatening let loose.

“You’re not lonely there, are you?”

“No.” I wiped at my cheeks, a small, fond smile softening my lips. “I’m not lonely here. It’s not like Chicago. This is a small village, Greer. Even when you’re single, you’re surrounded by friends. We meet at the pub almost every night and keep each other company. It’s nice.”

“It sounds nice. It’s also why I’m afraid you won’t come back.”

“My life is back in Chicago,” I said, the words automatic.

“Is it?”

For the first time, I paused.

Was my life back there?

Surely I couldn’t question that after only a month of staying in Alnster?

I gave a huff of laughter. “I’m sure after three months I will be sick and tired of tiny-village life. I’m a city girl.”

“Hmm.” Greer sighed again. “Have you told Josie?”

Josie was my mom.

My decision to stay in Alnster for three more months was based on a few factors. My mom was one of them, and I didn’t want to face her yet. “I left Phil a voice mail.”

“Evie,” Greer groaned. “That’s not fair.”

Feeling defensive, I scowled. “What? I tried to call. It went to his voice mail.”

“Did you try calling Josie?”

Indignation bubbled up within me, and I had to work hard not to sound irritated as I replied, “This isn’t about her. For once. So, no.”

“Okay, I won’t push it. You’re right, this is about you. You do what you gotta do.”

And just like that I melted, grateful to have a friend—no, a sister—like Greer in my life. “It means a lot to me that you would say that.”

“Well, I’m trying very hard right now not to be a self-involved dipshit, partly because it’s the right thing to do and partly because when I get off this phone and tell Andre you’re staying, he’ll give me this really disappointed look if he thinks I’ve been an unsupportive friend.”

I chuckled. “That must be some disappointed look.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“I love you, dipshit,” I said, trying not to get overly emotional on her.

“I love you too.” Her voice had started to break. “Okay, see you later.”

She hung up quickly, and I knew it was because she was seconds from bursting into tears. I told myself it was her hormones because Greer usually had a better handle on her emotions than this.

It didn’t make it any easier to know that I’d made my best friend cry.

As I got ready for bed, my stomach churned with my decision. Not because I wasn’t happy to stay in England for three more months, but because Greer’s worries had begun to make a dent in my stubborn belief I’d return to Chicago.

What if she was right?

What if what I discovered about myself meant Chicago wasn’t right for me anymore?

This trip to Northumberland was my first international trip. As a kid, we’d vacationed within the States and Canada. Growing up, reading Roald Dahl and Enid Blyton, I’d dreamed of England. Of visiting. Living there. As I got older, plans changed. I lost myself in the minutiae of adulthood. England became merely a wish on a vacation bucket list. It didn’t occur to adult me to live somewhere other than Chicago.