Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Silence.
“If you have to wonder if he’s committed to you, then he isn’t,” I say with as much empathy as I can muster. “Guys put a lot of effort into the things they want. It’s that simple.”
“Do you really think so?” Her words are nearly a whisper. “He has been swamped at work and with family obligations. Maybe I’m being unfair to question his intentions.”
“How long has he been this swamped?”
“For a while.” She groans. “Actually, it’s been months since we’ve had any real time together. I keep thinking that life will calm down, but it doesn’t.”
I sigh, carefully adjusting the mic in front of me. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that I think you agree with me. I think you know down deep that he’s not into you anymore. That’s why you called me, because you know I’ll tell you the truth. I think you’re probably sitting around, waiting, in his absence, and the needs he doesn’t meet are becoming glaringly obvious.”
Hannah either whispers that she agrees with me or sniffles. I can’t tell which, so I press on.
“No woman who feels loved and valued asks this question. Right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “But … Gianna, I love him.”
Of course, you do.
I try so hard not to roll my eyes.
When Francine pitched the idea of segueing my viral advice column, Just Between Friends, into a podcast titled Gianna Knows Things for Canoodle Media, it wasn’t scalability that nearly killed the deal. Our concept wasn’t too niche, nor were the production costs too high to almost keep me off the air. The executives could handle my unfiltered takes, and they welcomed my unapologetic opinions with open arms. Pushing the envelope is good for ratings, and at the end of the day, solid ratings pay the bills. But what nearly cost me the deal was my refusal to water down my stance on love, the dirtiest four-letter word in the English language.
The execs thought my take on the idea of coupledom in the modern era, namely that love is a choice rather than a magical chemical reaction, was too countercultural. There was concern of social media backlash. Would my refusal to believe in love at first sight alienate me from the very demographic I champion?
It was Francine who convinced Canoodle Media that people, namely women, are tired of having recycled garbage shoved down their throats, and that they crave an authentic voice offering a space that challenges societal norms.
I was in the top trending podcast on most major platforms across all media in two weeks.
“Hannah, I know it feels like you love him,” I say. “But love isn’t an emotion. It’s a decision. It’s a choice that you make. You need to set aside your feelings and decide if this relationship is healthy, if it meets your needs, and if it’s a situation that you want to be in … as it stands in the real world. Not in your hopes and dreams.”
“Wow. Okay.” Hannah clears her throat. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“I wish you the best of luck.”
The outro music plays as Francine gives me a thumbs-up.
“And that’s it for this week’s episode of Gianna Knows Things,” I say. “Tune in next week for more hot takes and cold truths. Bye, everyone.”
A prerecorded reel of me thanking our sponsors plays as I peel off my headphones.
The expected rush of weightlessness that I feel at the end of each episode washes over me instantly. It’s satisfaction and awe—a flutter of disbelief and delight that I get to talk to people for a living. People pay me for this. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this was possible, and not a day goes by that I’m not utterly grateful.
I lug my bag off the chair beside me and haul it onto my lap. Before I can start the search for my keys, my phone lights up next to the computer.
Astrid: Are we still on for tonight?
Audrey: The last I heard, we were meeting at Stupey’s tonight at seven. Please tell me we’re still on. I miss you guys.
Astrid: We saw you on Monday.
Audrey: And now it’s Friday. I don’t have a life, okay?
I pick up the device, smiling as I look at my two best friends’ names on the screen.
Me: I keep telling you, Auddie. I can help you get a life. Just ask.
Audrey: I’m not brave enough for that kind of life. But thanks.
Me: One of these days …
Astrid: Speaking of days, tonight? Stupey’s at seven?
Me: I’ll be there.
Astrid: See you guys then.
Audrey: xoxo
I lock the screen, then begin the plunge into the abyss of my new navy tote. Paintbrushes, a package of tissues, and my earbuds are on top. My knuckles swipe against the side of a water bottle as I descend farther into the mess. I find my wallet, the smartwatch I thought I lost, and more candy wrappers than a sweets shop has in stock.