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I hold my hand out to her and she places hers in mine. “Let’s get out of here, huh?”

As we hit the highway, her phone rings and Raine’s name shows up on the car screen. Zara squeezes my hand reassuringly as she presses a button on her steering wheel and answers the call.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” she greets. “I’m sorry for calling, I know you’re?—”

Zara cuts her off. “You know there’s nothing for you to apologize for. Are you okay?”

“Are you going to be late?” Raine asks. “Because I burned my dinner and I was hoping you could pick me up some food on the way.”

Zara glances at me, rich brown eyes filled with remorse and indecision, so I bring the top of her hand to my mouth and kiss it comfortingly.

There is no need for her to feel guilty, it has no place here, because there’s no choice between Raine and me. I would proudly put myself second, because there is nothing that is more honest and attractive to me than Zara putting Raine first.

It doesn’t matter how much or how little Raine needs her; I want her to know she could and would be there for her, and I will support that every step of the way.

Understanding settles on her features as she finally opens her mouth to respond. “I’ll be home soon,” she tells her. “Text me what you want and I’ll pick it up on my way.”

“Yes,” Raine cheers. “You’re a lifesaver, Mom. Thank you, and tell Aubrey I’m sorry for calling.”

Thishas me bristling.

“Aubrey?”I silently mouth.

“I’m not with Aubrey tonight,” Zara corrects.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re with your mystery woman,” Raine teases, not even the slightest bit put out by her mother’s dating life. “What did you say her name was?”

“You’re funny,” Zara deadpans. “You know very well I didn’t give you a name.”

This has Raine chuckling. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Well, tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Don’t forget to text me,” she reminds her. “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, Mom.”

When the call ends, I can’t help the words that rush out of my mouth. “Do you still see Aubrey? She’s the woman who was at your house that day, right?”

“I haven’t seen her lately,” Zara says, and I don’t know why I hate that answer more. “And yeah, that’s her.”

Jealousy churns in my stomach, unwanted and unfounded, and yet it’s there all the same.

“Clementine, she’s just a friend,” Zara says, attempting to placate me.

“But you could’ve been more, right? If it weren’t for me?”

Zara shakes her head. “Actually, no. I put her in the friend zone right after our first date, and that was before you showed up at my place.”

“But why? She’s perfect for you, and you wouldn’t have to lie?—”

Zara loosens her hand from mine and rushes to put it over my mouth, silencing me.

“You better stop that, right now,” she warns. “If I wanted Aubrey, I would be with Aubrey.” She gives me a meaningful look. “There is no such thing as somebody else being perfect for me.” She drops her hand. “It’s only you.”

“Fine,” I say on a pout. “But it probably would be easier.”

“Maybe,” Zara concedes. “But it still wouldn’t be you.”