Revenge Wears Prada: The Devil Returns. Lauren Weisberger
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When had she and Alex grown so far apart that year that he no longer thought they had enough in common? He kept claiming everything had changed between them. He didn’t know her anymore. It was great she’d quit Runway, but why didn’t she realize she’d become a different person? The girl he’d fallen in love with answered only to herself, but the new Andy was too eager to do what everyone else wanted. What does that mean? Andy would ask, biting on her lip, feeling alternately sad and angry. Alex would just shake his head. They bickered constantly. He always seemed disappointed in her. By the time he finally said that he wanted a break, and oh, by the way, he was accepting a Teach for America transfer to the Mississippi Delta, Andy was devastated but not surprised. Officially, it was over, but it didn’t feel that way. They talked on the phone and saw each other intermittently for the next month. There was always a reason to call or e-mail, a fleece left behind, a question for her sister, a game plan to sell the David Gray tickets they’d bought months earlier for a concert in the fall. Even the good-bye felt surreal, perhaps the very first time Andy had ever felt awkward around Alex. She wished him good luck. His hug was brotherly. But deep down she was in denial: Alex couldn’t live in Mississippi forever. They would take some time, use the distance to think and breathe and figure things out, and then he’d realize he’d made a horrible mistake (both with Mississippi and with her) and come racing back to New York. They were meant to be together. Everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time.
Only Alex didn’t call. Not during his two-day drive there, not after he arrived, not once he settled into the cottage house he’d rented because his town was too small for apartment buildings. Andy kept making excuses for him, going through them in her mind like mantras. He’s tired from all the driving, he’s overwhelmed with regret about his new life, and her favorite, Mississippi must not have cell reception. But when three days passed, and then a week, and she still hadn’t received so much as an e-mail, it hit her: this was for real. Alex was gone. At the very least he was determined to distance himself, and he didn’t appear to be coming back. She cried every morning in the shower and every evening in front of the TV and occasionally in the middle of the day, just because she could. Writing for Happily Ever After, the up-and-coming wedding blog that had hired her to contribute copy on a freelance basis, didn’t help. Who was she to curate the perfect registry list or suggest some off-the-beaten-track honeymoon destinations when her boyfriend found her too hideous even to call?
‘Ex-boyfriend,’ Lily said when Andy posed this question to her. They were sitting in Lily’s childhood bedroom at her grandmother’s house in Connecticut, drinking some kind of syrupy citrus tea Lily had bought from the Korean manicurist who had served it at her last nail appointment.
Andy’s mouth dropped open. ‘Did you really just say that?’
‘I’m not trying to hurt you, Andy, but I think it’s important you start facing reality.’
‘Facing reality? What does that mean? It’s barely been a month.’
‘A month in which you haven’t heard a word from him. Now, I’m sure that won’t be the case forever, but I do think he’s sending a pretty clear message. I’m not saying I agree with him, but I don’t want you to think that—’
Andy held up her hand. ‘I get it, thanks.’
‘Don’t be like that. I know this is hard. I’m not saying it isn’t. You loved each other. But I think you need to start focusing on moving forward with your life.’
Andy snorted. ‘Is that one of your brilliant pearls of wisdom from your twelve-step meetings?’
Lily leaned back as though she’d been struck. ‘I’m only saying it because I care about you,’ she said quietly.
‘I’m sorry, Lil, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right, I know you’re right. I just can’t believe …’ As hard as she tried to choke back the tears, her throat tightened and her eyes welled. She sobbed.
‘Come here, sweetheart,’ Lily said, moving closer to Andy’s floor cushion.
In an instant her friend’s arms were wrapped around her, and Andy realized this was the first time anyone had hugged her in weeks. It felt good, so pathetically good.
‘He’s just being a typical guy. Taking some time, doing his thing. He’ll come around.’
Andy wiped away tears and managed a small smile. ‘I know.’ She nodded. But they both knew Alex was no typical guy, and he’d given no indication whatsoever that he was going to come around, not then or ever.
Lily flopped down on the floor. ‘It’s time you started thinking about having an affair.’
‘An affair? Don’t you have to be in a relationship before you can cheat on someone?’
‘A fling, a one-night stand, whatever. Do I even have to remind you how long it’s been since you’ve had sex with someone else? Because I will …’
‘I don’t think that is really—’
‘Sophomore year, Scott whatever his name was, the one with the really unfortunate underbite, who you bonded with one night in the coed bathroom while I puked? Remember him?’
Andy put her hand to her forehead. ‘Oh, make it stop.’
‘And then he wrote you that card? With “Last Night” on the front and “You rocked my world” on the inside, and you thought it was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone could ever do?’
‘Please, I beg of you.’
‘You slept with him for four months! You overlooked his Tevas, his refusal to do his own laundry, his insistence on sending you “Just because” Hallmark cards. You’ve proven yourself capable of wearing blinders when it comes to men. I’m just saying: do it again!’
‘Lily—’
‘Or don’t. You’re in a position to upgrade if you want. Two words: Christian Collinsworth. Doesn’t he still crop up every now and then?’
‘Yes, but he’s only interested because I’m taken. Was taken. As soon as he senses I’m available, he’ll go running.’
‘If by “available” you mean “open to another relationship,” then yes, you’re probably right. But if you mean “open to the idea of no-commitment sex purely for pleasure,” I think you’ll find him willing.’
‘Why don’t we get out of here?’ Andy, desperate to change the topic, scrolled through the e-mails on her BlackBerry. ‘Travelzoo is offering four days and three nights in Jamaica, flight, hotel, and meals included, for three ninety-nine over Presidents’ Day weekend. Not bad.’
Lily was silent.
‘Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll get some sun, drink some margaritas – well, not you, but I will – maybe meet some guys? It’s been a tough winter all around. We deserve a break.’
Andy