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Of all the lessons I’d learned in my thirty-one years of life, perhaps the most important one was that my hair was usually a solid fifty percent of what people liked about me. The remaining fifty percent was split among my voice, my eyes, and my general air of barely giving a shit, which people found charming for some reason.
Nolan had the kind of face—the kind of smirk—that helped him get away with just about anything.
As soon as I’d thought it, I wanted to hit myself in the head with my rolled-up script, like I was a bad dog.
It was the cruelest thing about bipolar disorder, I thought; there was never one thing that worked forever. No one med, no one dose, no one routine. My mom said it was like walking on a rope bridge, where every step was slightly different from the last and sometimes you had to stop and just hold on until you could find your balance again. But she also liked to remind me that sometimes the views from her bridge were incredible too.
“I feel like the human version of the one hundred emoji,” she said, and I laughed.
Angel and Luca drifted over and sat by me, saving me from Maya the makeup artist, who was very intensely involved in the world of cat breeding and finding her cat an eligible bachelor. Catchelor?
“If two bisexual disasters find each other, does that negate the whole disaster part? Like how two negatives equal a positive?” “It’s so sexy when you talk math to me,” he rasped.
He knew what I needed, of course. I needed the promises and vows we could never speak aloud, so he wrote them into my body instead.
Because even though I was ninety percent sure Pearl had written this script in a crystal-gridded, sage-scented fever dream, there was a clear prism of truth at the heart of Felicity and the duke’s story. And it was that even if fate could triumph over separate timelines and separate lives, no destiny, no love, ever came for free. Love—even love decreed by fate—always demanded sacrifice and risk.
“Nolan, I don’t need you to love me in private. I need you to love me in public for the whole world to see. And that’s not something you’re prepared to do.”
“I learned that love was sticking around and believing in someone even when it felt impossible,”
Because that’s what love was—more than a word, more than a mountain of the best and noblest intentions in the world. It was saying I’ll be here with you when it feels like nothing else is certain. It was saying Let the storm come, because I’ll never stop holding your hand.
“I love you too, Nolan. I love you in the dark. I love you in the light. I love you everywhere.”
I don’t feel possessive of your body, Bee, or at least, not in a way that precludes you from doing your job. But I do feel possessive of your heart, I guess. I want to have it. I want to keep it. I want you to carry it around just for me while I carry mine around just for you.”
