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"I'm just tired, Teagan. It's got nothing to do with you."

"Okay." I take a drink of my coffee, grab my fork, and stab at my sad hotel eggs. Brady reaches for me and takes my left hand in his.

"I'm sorry, Teagan," Brady says. "When I look at you, I just think about digging that grave. That's all."

"I'm sorry, too," I say softly.

I follow his eyes to the entrance and see Hazel and River crossing the room. They sit beside us; River hangs her head and weeps with her head in her hands, and Hazel wipes away a tear from under her eye.

"She just got in a cab and left," Hazel says. "She said she loved us and that she was sorry, and then she just left."

"Well, we're all free to come and go as we please, right?" Brady says. "We have to respect her decision."

"You knew she was going to do this," Hazel says, her tone accusatory.

Brady shakes his head. "No, I didn't. I knew she was upset. She slept with Rhett and me last night; she was crying. She just said it was about Layla."

Hazel turns to me next. "Well, she was talking to you, Teagan. What did she say?"

"She said that I should leave, too."

Hazel scoffs. "Unbelievable. I literally can't fucking believe this. I'm going to text Declan."

"Do you think she'll come back?" River asks Brady. "Maybe she'll change her mind."

He looks at her like that's the dumbest shit he's ever heard. "No, River. I don't think she's coming back. Just wish her well and be happy for her."

She turns to me. "Are you staying?"

"Yeah. I'm staying."

She rests her head on the table. "Thank god."

Hazel sets her phone down on the table forcefully.

"What did Declan say?" River asks.

"He just…said what Brady said. He said it was fine," Hazel tells her. "I'm going to get us some food. Okay, babe?"

"Okay," River says. "Fuck."

We eat quietly for the most part, and when I go to return my tray and refill my coffee, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out and see Blakely's name flashing across the screen. I swipe to answer and bring it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"What the fuck is going on?" she says. "Do you check your texts at all?"

"Um, not since last night, why?"

"Well, check them now," she says.

I sigh, then bring up my home screen and click on the messages app. I click on her name, and I'm assaulted by a barrage of messages, but my eyes settle on an article titled "Who is Luca De Rossi's New Girlfriend?" with a picture of the two of us kissing at the restaurant last night.

Shit.

"Okay…" I say. "What's your question?"