Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“No. I—I didn’t really care to look. Please, I promise you I didn’t do shit to Eve! I don’t know where she is! I’ve been calling her for days and she hasn’t picked up!”
I sighed. Lincoln may have been an asshole, but he was a stupid asshole. He wasn’t smart or calculating enough to be behind this. Oddly enough, I believed he was telling the truth.
“Fine,” I muttered. “You can let him go, Nico.”
Eve Castillo journal entry
I miss Rose.
I don’t know how to make things up to her. I feel like I should reach out to Cole and have him do something to win her back. Then maybe she’ll forgive me? I don’t know. Rose is a sucker for romantic gestures. She likes being surprised. If she restores her marriage there’s hope our relationship can be salvaged too.
It was Ben’s birthday yesterday, but I didn’t get invited. Zoey went and asked if I was coming. I had to tell her I was busy and wouldn’t make it. I hate lying to Zoey. But I’d rather lie than have her find out the truth—that I’m a shit friend who can’t reject her best friend’s husband.
Here’s the crazy thing though. I started seeing a therapist and she thinks I’m envious of Rose.
She believes that, deep down, there’s a part of me that is jealous of her life—that secretly a part of me blames her for my struggles. I couldn’t say that I’ve ever felt that way, but my therapist broke it down for me.
“It’s not blatant envy,” she said. The way she explained it is that I have this friend who has lived a decent life. Meanwhile I’ve lived a shitty one. We became friends at a young age, so I watched her grow with me, year after year, getting better and better while I’d practically remained stagnant.
Rose’s boyfriends were always really into her. All the boys who were into me only wanted me for sex. She had loving family members to throw surprise parties for her, or to buy her a car. I had no loving family other than Zoey and Abuela. Rose was considered family, but I’d never ask her to throw me a party. They would cook for me. But as far as having a car . . . yeah, I had to buy my own and I wasn’t even able to do that until I was twenty.
Rose going to college while I couldn’t afford it. Rose graduating while I was stuck working at H&M. Having a dad who was proud of her every step of the way and not one like mine, who beat me, cursed me out, and made me feel less than human.
Then she married the guy I once had to myself. My therapist made me question that aspect of it. She asked me if I had purposely stayed around Cole without Rose being present because, subconsciously, I was upset that he’d chosen her over me. She also asked if I was harboring anger because he didn’t try harder to keep me. If I was troubled because he treated Rose ten times better than he’d ever treated me, prior to his cheating.
Was I seeking attention?
Wanting Rose’s life?
Was I truly envious and oblivious to it?
In a way, I wanted what she had. I longed to be loved and appreciated too. That’s a sad, bitter pill to swallow. Without even realizing it, I was throwing blame on my best friend. One of the only people in the world to truly love me for me, despite my flaws, my rebellion, my lust. One of the people who would have loved me unconditionally had I not betrayed her.
I silently blamed Rose because I’m miserable. And, according to my therapist, I wanted my misery to have company . . . Even if it cost me everything.
Eve Castillo journal entry
The summer was a whirlwind. My trip to Cali was really good but I’m glad to be home. I’m getting a little tired of traveling so much. I like recording videos, but I think I’m burning out with social media. I might take a break and go somewhere quiet. Have some me time. I just hope my followers stick around and don’t go anywhere else.
The truth is I need to feel wanted—Loved. I want to be held by someone for hours and hours. I could call Lincoln and have him meet me.
Or Victor.
Maybe both.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I’m not sure when I fell asleep but when I woke up, it took me a moment to remember where I was. The AC rattled to my right. My phone, Eve’s camera, and my laptop were next to me on the bed. The screen of the laptop was dark, revealing my dim reflection. According to my phone, it was 12:17 AM and there was a missed call from Jayson.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes with one hand while giving my laptop’s keyboard a tap. After signing in, my latest document appeared. Right. The article for Robert Cowan. I’d added one measly paragraph to the document. Twyla was going to kill me . . . well, if she was able to beat Herbert to the punch.