“I’m incredibly jealous of this launch party,” said Simon, who’d come alone, as Emery was traveling for work. He pulled her in for a hug. “Proud of you,” he said into her hair. She squeezed him close, let herself be held for a few seconds before she pulled back.
In the last several weeks, Iris’s friends had been nothing but supportive of her. Gentle. Calling and texting her, stopping by her apartment with her favorite delivery foods, trying to get her to talk about how she felt. Iris let it all wash over her—though she refused to get into any lengthy discussions about Stevie—and appreciated her friends’ very obvious love for her. By all accounts, she had everything she needed to be happy.
And she was, but . . .
Well, she didn’t want to think about that but. Every morning, she woke up, ready to feel free of this whole ridiculous thing. It had been over a month since Stevie left for New York. In the last few weeks, Iris had finished revising her second novel, turned it in to her editor. She’d done interviews for her debut, recorded publicity videos for her publisher, received good reviews from trade publications, and she’d introduced a new digital LGBTQIA+ planner in her Etsy shop that her fans were losing their minds over. She’d even had an offer from a local theater in Seattle to audition for their upcoming production. She’d turned it down, but still. It was pretty amazing just to be asked.
So, yeah, Iris was doing great.
She was thriving.
So the fact that she still woke up every morning with a curly-haired thespian lingering in her brain from her dreams was simply a temporary annoyance. The fact that she looked around right now at her launch party—her success—and felt completely alone? That was just a byproduct of everyone in her life being coupled up. It was natural to feel a little alienated in these situations. Nothing she couldn’t handle.
Because she was happy.
She was Iris-fucking-Kelly, and she was goddamn euphoric.
“Sweetheart, this is amazing!” Her mother appeared next to her, red-and-gray curls bouncing as she pulled Iris’s father along by the hand.
Her friends widened their circle to make room.
“Thanks, Mom,” Iris said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “And thanks for coming.”
“Of course, honey. We’re so proud of you.”
Iris smiled, decided not to bring up the fact that just last week Maeve has asked Iris on the phone if she had decided to get a “real job” yet.
“Seems like the whole town is here,” her dad said, gazing around at the crowd.
“Yeah, well, everyone likes reading about sex.” This from her brother, Aiden. Addison stood next to him, regal in a mustard-colored bandage dress, wrinkling her nose at her husband.
“Who doesn’t?” Delilah asked, and god, Iris loved her.
Aiden winced. “That sounded condescending, didn’t it?”
“It sure did,” Addison said.
Iris just sighed and waved a hand through the air, avoiding Claire’s concerned gaze. At least her brother and parents were here. Her younger sister, Emma, hadn’t even bothered to show up, claiming Christopher had a fever and she couldn’t possibly leave him with a babysitter. Which, fair enough, but she could leave him with Charlie and come to Iris’s launch party on her own, as Iris knew Charlie was a more than capable father.
But no.
Emma had to control everything, including making Iris feel like nothing she did was ever good enough for her perfect baby sister. Iris tried not to let it ruin her night—this was the event she’d been waiting on for over a year; longer if she counted all the time she spent dreaming about writing her own romance novel since she started reading the genre as a teenager—but Emma’s absence only threw other absences into stark relief.
Well.
Just one other absence, really.
Iris squeezed her eyes closed for a second, concentrated on the leaf’s waxy surface under her fingers.
“I can’t wait to read it, honey,” Maeve said, grabbing a copy of Iris’s book from a nearby table and smiling down at the colorful cover.
“Gross,” Aiden said.
“God, what now?” Iris said, folding her arms, the leaf tucked into her palm.
“Sorry, sorry, just, the idea of our mother reading your sex scenes is . . .” He shuddered dramatically, making Addison laugh.
“I’m no prude,” Maeve said, a fact she emphasized by slapping Liam on the butt.
“Oh, lovely, nice, thank you for that,” Aiden said.
Maeve just laughed while Liam’s cheeks turned pink.
“Anyway,” Maeve said, glancing around. “Where’s this famous Stevie we’ve heard so much about?”
Iris’s stomach turned over. Her friends all froze, eyes wide like they were teenagers and they’d all just been caught sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night.
In her mother’s defense, Iris had told her family that they could meet Stevie at her launch. And Iris hadn’t been exactly forthcoming in her recent conversations with her mother about her and Stevie’s breakup. She hadn’t really thought through the consequences of that decision, that she’d have to explain the whole split in person, and at her own book launch no less.
“She’s not here” was the excuse Iris went with, hoping her mother would settle for the paltry non-explanation.
Which, of course, she didn’t.
“Not here?” Maeve said, frowning. “She’s your girlfriend. Shouldn’t she be at your book flight?”
“Book launch, Mom,” Aiden said.
“Whatever,” Maeve said, her eyes on Iris. She smelled blood in the water, and Iris could see the second her mother realized Iris was full of shit.
Maeve sighed, pursed her mouth. “I see.”
“Mom, please don’t,” Iris said. “Not tonight.”
“Don’t what?” Maeve said. “Express concern that my beloved daughter keeps running away from her own life?”
Iris gritted her teeth. She heard Delilah whisper a quiet “Oh shit.”
“Mom,” Aiden said, but Maeve could not be stopped.
“I’m just curious,” she said. “What happened, Iris?”
Iris pressed her fingers into her eyes. “Nothing. Just . . . nothing, okay?”
“Oh, you don’t want to talk about it,” Maeve said, folding her arms. “You never do, do you? I wish you would’ve told me before this, I would’ve invited Shelby.”
“Shelby,” Iris deadpanned.
Maeve smiled. “I went to the dentist last week. She’s a new hygienist. Cute as a button and she had on a rainbow pin, so I asked her if—”
“Stop,” Iris said. “Mom, please, just stop.”
Maeve frowned. “Sweetie, if you don’t care about dying alone, I’ll have to care enough for the both of us.”
“Mom, Jesus, dramatic much?” Aiden said.
Maeve just laughed. Aiden laughed. Addison laughed. Only her friends didn’t, their eyes on Iris, wide with concern. Iris could tell Astrid was a split second away from saying something, her fists clenched, jaw tight.
Iris shook her head slightly.
It wasn’t worth it.
“Excuse me,” Iris said, then turned and all but flung herself into the crowd. She lost herself for a while, accepting congratulations, talking about her publishing journey for those who were curious. She even spoke with Jenna for a few minutes, though neither of them mentioned Stevie.
“Sweetie?” Claire asked, finding her in the children’s section, where Iris had been hiding for a good ten minutes just to get her breath back under control.
“Hey,” Iris said.
“You okay?”
Iris shrugged. “Same old shit.”
“I’m sorry. Your mom . . . I know she loves you.”
Iris nodded. She knew her mom loved her too. She was just very sick of Maeve’s kind of love. The kind that constantly tried to fix her. Granted, it wasn’t anywhere near Isabel Parker-Green’s kind of molding, but it still stung.
“If it helps, she looked pretty horrified after you stomped off,” Claire said.
Iris cracked a smile. “It does. A bit.”
Claire smoothed her hand over Iris’s hair, and Iris leaned into her touch. It was comforting—her friends usually were—but she still felt itchy, unsettled. She wished she could blame her mother, even Emma’s absence, but if she was being honest, she’d felt like this for the better part of a month.