The Third Best Thing (Fulton U, #3)

by Maya Hughes

“If you’re worried about other people around here, maybe go home for a few days. Lay low there and hang out with your mom and sister. Things will blow over.” A hysterical laugh bubbled up from my stomach. “From the frying pan into the fire. Who do you think drummed these things into my head for the past twenty-two years? Do you know what it was like for me growing up?” He stared at me like he couldn’t fathom anything other than a picture-perfect childhood shattered by the death of my father. “But your mom was nice enough.” “To you. She was so nice to you, but every word from her was trying to cut me down. Like seeing me happy for even a second offended her.” “I’m sure it’s not—” “I don’t even know if my own mother loves me.” My voice cracked and my nose was a split second from running. Another ugly cry was rushing to the surface and I didn’t need him here to experience it. “How about that? How’s that for some honesty? She’s the one person who’s supposed to love me unconditionally and I’m fifty-fifty on whether she’d even care if I disappeared off the face of the earth. Those are issues I’m still dealing with, and I can’t add being on your arm to that—not now.” “We don’t have to ...

“No.” The word was small and quiet, like he didn’t want to scare me away. “She said ‘It’s a wonder he sees anything in you at all.’ She threatened to cut me out of the wedding pictures if I didn’t lose weight. I’ve been getting that from her for as long as I can remember. “Watching everything I put into my mouth like we’re rationing. Criticizing me during every shopping trip because I can’t fit into the same clothes as Laura.” “I don’t care what other people are saying. And I don’t care that you’re The Letter Girl. I’m fine with it—more than fine with it.” Tears trailed down my cheeks. “But I’m not. This is a tightrope I’m walking and I’m three minutes from flying into the kitchen and eating half the stuff I baked over the past week, but I won’t. I can be strong right now, but every day, knowing that’s what’s going on? I’m not that strong, Berk. I’m just not. This is my breaking point.” I put my hand on the center of his chest and pushed him toward the porch. “There’s no way I can make it out unscathed.” He covered my hand on his chest with his own. “Who said you had to? Who said any of us do?” I looked up at him. “I do.” I pushed a little harder and he cleared the door. Closing...

better he could do as the prying eyes and judgement wore ...

Jules was The Letter Girl. She was the woman I’d fallen in love with through her words and the one I’d slowly discovered my feelings for right across the street. The whole time I fought my feelings for her, it was because I’d been afraid of betraying—well, her. She’d kept that from me. The letters I’d read and re-read hundreds of times. The woman I’d finally said goodbye to in my last letter, she was Jules all this time. I wasn’t sure how long I’d stood on her porch, knocking and calling her name. Any longer and someone would probably call the cops on me for harassment. The pain in her eyes made me want to tear the place apart and find out who exactly had hurt her—other than her own family. I walked back across the street in a daze. A swell of emotions so tangled and mixed up, I could barely hold onto one for longer than a second. Crushing sadness, confusion, anger that she’d kept this from me, relief that I’d finally found TLG and then devastation at losing her again. And she was pushing me away, acting like we were so mismatched when we weren’t. No one would think that—she was amazing. That’s what they’d see. No one who knew Jules could hate