Page 7 of Tangled
I struggle to smile at my mom, her words offering me some solace during my breakdown. Sometimes a woman can only handle so much before she breaks, before all the thoughts of self-doubt she’s been tucking away are fighting to bubble up and over the threshold she keeps them buried under.
Being a perfectionist to the core, in moments like this where I feel like I’m failing, the anxiety and fear tend to overtake my mind. My battered heart and soul tell me that I’m not meant to walk this life alone. But I also feel this pressure from society and from myself to find that person. I think that’s what kills me the most about leaving Trevor. It’s not that I lost him, it’s that I lost the time I invested in him. And I lost direction in my life.
Trevor and I met through his family’s winery. I was there on a tour with a group of people from work. Teachers like to let loose on the weekends and have fun too, you know? We were buzzed and high on the smell of cedar and grapes when he walked into the tasting room and asked how our group was enjoying the wine. After small talk and a few more glasses, he offered me a private tour, showing me the behind-the-scenes look at the making of the deep red liquid. Being a wine connoisseur, I ate up the opportunity to absorb any information he shared, and then he asked me for my number before our group left.
He was charming, good-looking in that boy-next-door kind of way with dark hair and green eyes. But his smile was devious, in a way that was so alluring, yet also screamed of mischief.
I should have known he was capable of betrayal—of lying and cheating and wreaking havoc on my self-esteem.
“Thanks, Mom. I know you’re right. I just really want to find me again. I feel like I’ve lost a piece of myself in the past few months, and I’m not sure how to rediscover it.”
“You need to let loose, have some fun. Find joy in the little things again. Remember how much you loved to dance? Maybe find a class to take or… well, maybe just start by getting really drunk tonight and see how you feel in the morning.” She shrugs her shoulders suggestively, which makes me laugh.
“Mom!”
“What? You’re thirty-one, not fifty. And hell, even if you were fifty, I’d still say go for it. Get drunk. Flirt. Maybe have some hot revenge sex and take out your anger on another man’s dick?”
My jaw drops to the floor. “Mother! When did you become so vulgar? I feel like I don’t even know the woman who’s standing in front of me right now!”
My mother chuckles while stepping away from me and opening the box with my dishes thrown inside.
“Your mom isn’t as innocent as you might think, Liv,” she teases while stacking plates in the cupboard.
“Oh, my God. Please stop right there before you tell me anything I can’t unhear,” I shake my head, about to plug my ears.
She comes back over to me and rests her hands on my shoulders.
“Be the woman I raised you to be. It’s okay to cry, but don’t live there in that pain. And don’t punish yourself for not seeing who Trevor really was. You still need to trust your gut and keep an open mind. But right now, try to let the positive aspects of this shine through. You’re back home, you’re near your best friends and your family again, and you get to start a new job back where you went to school. You have so much to be proud of Liv. And don’t forget that the people who truly love you will always have your back.”
She kisses my forehead and brings a genuine smile to my face for the first time in days.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper through tears of happiness and gratitude.
“I love you too, Liv.”
“And I plan on getting pretty drunk tonight and having fun as you said. I think I just really need to blow off some steam.”
“I agree. Don’t think, just feel. But remember, hangovers are way worse after thirty,” she chuckles before resuming her task.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
Chapter 4
Olivia
“To having the gang all back together!”
The four of us—my best friends since high school—clank our shot glasses together before slamming the tequila back with full force.
“God, that crap is awful! How do you drink that?” Amy asks before gaging with her mouth closed, her fist closed over her lips.
“No one said it has to taste good,” Clara replies. “It just needs to get the job done.”
“That’s right! Tequila always gets the job done. I know I’ll definitely forget about that douchebag before the night is over,” I add before taking a sip of my beer. I know I shouldn’t mix beer and liquor, but tonight, I’m giving a big middle finger to all the rules.
“I can’t believe you’re back home. This is just so crazy…” Perry shakes her head while sipping her white wine. Her white satin blouse clings to her curves as she sits on the stool next to me. Her blonde hair is sleekly pulled back in a low bun with not one hair out of place, and her blue eyes sparkle from the dim light hanging above us. For a mom of two, she carries herself with such poise and always looks so put together that I wonder if she secretly cries in the pantry while eating Reese’s peanut butter cups after her husband and kids have gone to bed.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think it would happen either… yet, here I am!” I exclaim while throwing my hands up in the air.