Little Pieces of Me by Alison Hammer

Author:Alison Hammer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: William Morrow Paperbacks
Published: 2021-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Then

BETSY FELT LIKE SHE WAS COMING DOWN WITH SOMETHING. She’d never been one for naps, but the last two weeks, she’d taken one nearly every day. She was attempting to take one now, but there was too much noise coming from downstairs.

She opened one eye at the sound of her name.

“Betsy!” one of her sisters called a second time. “You got another delivery!”

She closed her eyes again, embarrassed by what she could only imagine was another over-the-top gesture from Mark. Her desk was already covered with vases full of flowers. There were daisies and tulips and lilies—he clearly didn’t know what her favorite flower was. The smell of them was so overpowering that it was starting to make her sick. As far as Betsy was concerned, it was too little, too late.

There was a knock on her door.

“Come in,” Betsy said, propping herself up on one arm.

Evelyn, a sweet girl in her pledge class, opened the door, a bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath in her arms. “Where do you want me to put these?”

“In the trash,” Betsy said.

“Oh, don’t be silly, they’re beautiful.”

“You can have them,” Betsy told her. “I don’t want to look at them.”

“Do you mean it?” Evelyn’s eyes lit up at the thought. She was a girl who was more comfortable with books than boys, and Betsy wasn’t sure if Evelyn had ever been on a date outside of organized sorority parties. She deserved to have beautiful flowers, and the flowers deserved to make someone happy.

“Of course,” Betsy said. She lay back down so she wouldn’t have to look at the flowers anymore, hoping Evelyn would take the hint and leave her to get some sleep. “They’re yours.”

“Thank you!” Evelyn said. “But here, at least take the card.”

The bedroom door closed softly as Evelyn walked all the way inside. She gently lay the card on Betsy’s bed before taking the roses back to her own room, where Betsy never had to look at them again.

Betsy’s eyes welled with tears. She hated how much she’d been crying lately. She didn’t have the right to be sad—she was the one who had ended things with Mark. If the flowers were a sign, he would gladly take her back if she wanted.

But Betsy didn’t want him back. She didn’t want the kind of future that a life with him would look like. It would be so much easier if he’d been the bad guy and done something really wrong. But it was pretty much the opposite.

Betsy had to admit she missed him: the way he’d call her on the house phone to say good night after he got back home from dropping her off. She missed the way he laughed at his own silly puns even though no one else did. And she especially missed watching the news with him, the conversations they would have when it was over. He talked to her like she was smart and her opinion mattered. Not everyone cared what a girl like her thought about politics and issues of the world, but Mark did.

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