Page 16

Raging storm that he is, he set fire to all her serenity and she lost it. Screaming at him and Raul both like a woman possessed before storming off to Raul’s pickup. She slammed the door so hard I felt it in my spine.

And that was the end of it. I was too ashamed to ask for a ride so I’d called an Uber and rode back to the city in silence. The kind that feels louder than any radio station could ever drown out. With every mile, the knot in my chest loosened—just a little. Just enough to breathe again.

I managed to make it home before I cracked. That breath turned into a sob and there was no stopping the tears because when I asked myself who I could call, the answer hit me like a punch to the face.

My two closest friends were miles away in Dawson. I’d hurt Monica and besides they were wrapped in their new lives, their new homes, and their new men. How can I blame them? Love’s supposed to move you forward and it did. For them.

God, I feel so left behind. Left alone in an empty space that used to be full of us.

Sure, I could hit that little video chat icon, but what good will it do? A screen can’t wrap around me. Can’t hold me while I fall apart. It’s no substitute. I want to collapse into a hug that smells like our shared shampoo and feels like a thousand inside jokes. Like the group hugs we passed around, a kind of medicine before the Crawfords had barged into our lives and rewritten everything.

And right then my phone chimes. I pick it up and stare because it’s as if she’s in my head.

I heard what happened between you and Ray. I’ll be at my place early tomorrow, so we can talk. 6 o’clock. Don’t be late.

Erica. A sob slips out—raw, grateful. God, bless her.

She’s saving me from having to crawl back to the Catskills to cry on her shoulder. And right now, more than ever before, the last thing I need is a trip back to the core of my shame. Where Ray is. His scent lingering in the air.

I don’t even want to breathe the same air as him. The thought of being near him makes my stomach churn. God, no. I wouldn’t survive it—not without saying things I know I’ll regret. She’s saving me from new drama and that is why my love for her will never die.

I pull into Erica’s driveway promptly at six. My heart is so full of gratitude that my hands are shaking.

She’s waiting outside, which, of course she is. Sitting in a chair on her small porch, sipping a mug like she’s the queen of calm. I walk up the path and her eyes meet mine, warm and knowing.

“Hey,” she calls, swirling the straw in her drink. “Do you want one of these?”

“No, thanks,” I say, my voice dry as dust. “Last thing I need right now is caffeine.”

“Damn…” she muses. “Monica said you were upset, but no caffeine? Here I thought she was being dramatic.”

“Upset is a polite way of putting it,” I say, sinking into the chair beside her. “Try outraged, humiliated, and end withdone.”

She tilts her head, pursing her lips around the straw and sucking. She swallows and blinks slowly before she speaks.

“Okay, Red. Walk me through this, because I’m confused. I thought youwantedRay to crash the party?”

I drop into the chair at her side, rolling my eyes. I stare out at the street, trying to sort out the words.

“I mean…” I sigh, motioning through the air like I might conjure the words. “I wanted him to come, sure—but full-on caveman was not part of the plan. He didn’t come to see me—he barreled through the damn gate and attacked Steve Wilkins. Took out two of his bodyguards. Grabs my hand and screamsshe’s minelike he was claiming a fucking parking spot.”

Erica blinks and shakes her head. She doesn’t smirk, but it feels like she wants to, or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“That jackass,” she mutters, sipping slowly—like she’s trying not to laugh.

I stare, trying to decide if that’s sarcasm or not and finally shrug.

“He acted like I was a prize, a thing, to be taken. As if I didn’t have a say.”

“What did you expect?” she asks, unerringly piercing the heart of the matter.

“Not that,” I say, shaking my head. I close my eyes, lean my head back and sigh before meeting her steady gaze again.

“Well?”

“Simple, I guess. He walks in, like a normal person, pulls me aside and says he can’t stand seeing me with someone else. That’s it. I would have melted.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, still keeping the mug at her lips. I narrow my eyes, she’s holding back.