Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“They could have been better.” I shrugged. “I saw a picture of Josh and his new girlfriend. Or rather his new-again girlfriend.”
“How did that happen?”
“On Instagram. Josh and I still follow each other. The photo was a few months old. Lately that’s all I see. Old posts. They must’ve changed the algorithm or something.”
Dr. Amherst smiled. “I miss the old days, when everyone didn’t know everything about each other’s lives. But tell me, how did the photo make you feel?”
“Like an idiot. The same way I feel when I think back to the email that popped up on his phone a few days before the wedding, with her name on it. I believed him when he said she’d seen the announcement and wanted to wish him luck.” I shook my head. “I think the fact that I believed him without question bothers me most these days, maybe even more than the fact that I was left standing at the altar humiliated and the man I loved is back with his ex.”
“That’s understandable. You placed your trust in someone who shattered it. When that happens, we’re left with the fragments of a promise that once carried a lot of weight in our hearts.”
I sighed. “I should’ve unfollowed him.”
Dr. Amherst tilted her head. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment?”
She smiled. “I think it’s more likely the same reason we all look over at a car accident. When something bad happens, our amygdala is stimulated—the part of the brain responsible for processing fearful and threatening stimuli. It sends a signal to the region of the brain that analyzes and interprets things. That, in turn, causes us to evaluate what happened and make sure it doesn’t happen to us. Or in your case, make sure it doesn’t happen a second time.”
“So I’m following Josh to figure out why I didn’t see it coming? Or am I following him to keep myself miserable so I won’t get into another relationship and get hurt again?”
“Only you know the answer to that.”
I sighed. “Isn’t there a book that can tell me how to figure it out?”
Dr. Amherst smiled. “Let me ask you, when we met two weeks ago, we spoke about you joining a dating app. Have you done that?”
I shook my head. “Seeing that photo put a damper on the excitement I’d felt about doing it.”
“Sounds like you might not need a book. You just answered your own question.”
I thought about it. I supposed it made sense. I didn’t want to go through what I’d experienced with Josh ever again. When I walked down the aisle on my wedding day, I’d thought it was the beginning of the happiest moments of my life—until my dad lifted my veil and I looked over at Josh’s face. I knew something was wrong. But I was so damn clueless, I thought someone had died. I actually asked him if his grandmother, who couldn’t make that day because she was sick, was okay. The fact that my fiancé of a year and a half was about to dump me in front of all of my family and friends didn’t even enter my mind as a possibility. And it wasn’t because he suddenly got a case of cold feet, because that does happen. No, it turned out my trusted fiancé had been pining for his ex the entire time we were together. A few days before our wedding, Josh had written her a letter, telling her he wouldn’t marry me if there was any possibility he could have a second chance with her. Apparently she showed up at his apartment on the morning of our wedding and admitted she still had feelings for him, too. Yet I’d had no clue about any of it.
So maybe my reluctance to move on did have less to do with getting over Josh and more to do with learning to trust myself again. I nodded. “I’ll unfollow him today.”
“Baby steps are still steps.” Dr. Amherst smiled again.
“Okay. And I didn’t sign up for the app, but I did meet someone. And we kissed.”
“Oh? Tell me about him.”
“He’s … sort of a jerk who says what’s on his mind without regard for hurting another person’s feelings. And we argued most of the evening.”
Dr. Amherst’s brows puckered. “Is there more to that description? Because I’m not sure that sounds like someone who would make a great partner.”
I smiled. “He’s actually pretty funny. He’s got a dark sense of humor. And he has these eyes…” I drifted off, remembering how captivating they were. Though it wasn’t like I had to do it from memory alone, since I’d looked at the photos Elijah took quite a few times the last couple of weeks. “They’re a bright blueish green, maybe turquoise might be the right way to describe them. I was originally calling them azure in my head, but then I looked up the definition of azure and realized his have more green in them. And they’re lined with the thickest black lashes.”