The Rule Book

by Sarah Adams

“No emotions in my office, you know that.

Me.

The man looks hot as hell even though I’d rather eat a rock than admit it.

Because when a man doesn’t encourage you to reach for the stars, Nora Bug, he’s putting you in a glass jar to contain your light. We don’t have to settle for air through holes poked in the top of a lid. We get to become stars ourselves

every season of life is important and that no one path is more meaningful than another.

because I don’t like to be alone with my thoughts and therapy is too expensive.

😂

Maybe I need to put a lid on my imagination and set my burners to simmer.

He’s already exasperated with me, and I’ve only been here five minutes. It’s these small comforts in life that bring me joy.

Indisposed is what someone says about a person they’ve killed and stuffed in the basement. Did Derek kill his cook so that he could torture me in a culinary fashion?

My mom taught me early on that I would never be everyone’s cup of tea, but that doesn’t mean I should change my flavor for anyone either.

she was sorry to cook them, but they were dying for a noble cause.

“And also tell us why you’re trying to hide the fact that a woman who wears a size nine shoe is already here somewhere? Did you put her in the closet? I swear we raised you better than that.”

These guys 🥰

“Baby, if this hopeless, I never want to be hopeful.”

Don’t let her smile fool you, she’s covered in yellow daisies but she’s dangerous as hell.

What about the woman?” “What about her?” I shrug. His eyes widen in annoyance. “Are you still in love with her?” For once I’m too tired to fight with him. “Yes, I am. Deeply. Terribly.”

The honesty!!!

Now, deal me in for Monopoly and I’ll take a glass of sangria. Throw a piece of ice in there while you’re at it.”

(I hate it with all my heart—but I respect it.)

But luckily, I don’t need sleep anymore. Unrelated note, did you know if you drink enough coffee, you can hear the color purple?”

I hate that when your mouth curves into a smile, I can’t kiss it. I hate that you hold my heart in a vise grip and you have no idea. I hate that I’ve never been able to move on from you—not for a single day. I hate that if I were to tell you all of this, you’d leave, and I’d be left vulnerable and bleeding out at the bar.

The bartender sets her drink down and lingers a second, hoping to catch her eye (because I guess he feels like dying tonight).

“Nora…what are you doing?” “Running for president. I know it seems like an odd time, but someone’s got to do it.”

In what world is something so messy a good decision?

(because of course there would be traffic at nine p.m. on a Sunday night because that’s the way things go when you randomly wake up married one day to the person you were trying to never see again).

“Speak to her like that again and find out what happens.”

I’m resisting the urge to shape-shift into a marble and roll onto him.

“I’ve started drinking chamomile tea at night, Nora. And I like it.”

“Woo is a good word. You’re not trying to seduce her. Wooing insinuates you’re trying to get to her heart, not just her body.”

“You told me to wink. And it did not work out, might I add.” “Not my fault you don’t have game.”

I also imagine my hatred has something to do with the lack of control, but we’ll never know since the closest thing I have to a therapist is The Great British Bake Off.

there’s a difference between having always loved a man you knew as your younger self, and really liking the man you know now on top of that. It’s dangerous. It potentially complicates everything.

“But it’s fine because I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a stop sign and now I get to find out firsthand.”

in the spirit of full disclosure, I want you to know, I plan on breaking every single one of our rules over the course of this week. Now is your chance to officially tell me not to.”

“I think you already know the answers to those questions and don’t need me to point them out.”

And it doesn’t matter that I ended it with him—my heart was still broken. The only difference is that I’m the one who shattered it myself.

“No.” I cut him off. “Don’t look her in the face. You don’t deserve to look at her. Look at your ugly-ass shoes while you apologize to her.”

OMG

you, Nora, are beautiful, rare magic and nothing less.”

“Would you shut up for a second and let me hug you?”

We all make choices in life and some of them are necessarily more gray than others.

“If it wasn’t obvious before, I love you too. I love you more than you love cereal on ice cream and more than the sun loves to fry your pretty skin.”

“You deserve the whole world, and I’d try to give it to you, but I think you’ll enjoy fighting for it yourself more.”

“Practical is the sexiest word in the dictionary,”

“Oh, yes. Please do finish that sentence, because I would love to respond to it.”

I’m struggling to find the words to convey the gooey mushy center of my heart. I wish I could just give him a peek inside; it’s exploding with color and confetti. There’s sprinkles and glitter. It’s a mess.