Page 82 of Ruthless Chaos

I’m nearly done with her hair when she speaks.

“He broke up with me.” Her voice is so small it’s almost drowned out by the gentle music from the wireless speaker.

I have no idea who she’s talking about, but I don’t ask.

Instead, I use my index fingers to massage her temples. Her chest rises and falls shakily. She’s on the edge of telling me more.

“After everything we’ve been through, he broke up with me.” Her voice cracks and fresh tears spring from her eyes. “He won’t tell me why.”

My chest squeezes, and my eyes start to burn.

The anguish in her voice is devastating. Who would ever do that to Tara? She’s perfect, everything I wish I was—stunning, bold, and a genuine extrovert.

“I can’t even get him to talk to me about it.” She is full-on sobbing now, but she turns to me, finally looking me in the eye. “Can you imagine that, Allie? After two years together, he doesn’t give me an explanation, only that we can’t be together anymore.”

Without her hair to occupy my hands, I don’t know what to do with them.

“That’s horrible,” I say, setting the comb down on the edge of the tub. “You deserve so much better, Tara. You’re perfect.”

She scoffs, her face contorting into anger. “Not perfect enough for him.”

Tara bares her teeth, punching the surface of the soapy water. It splashes all over the marble floor.

“I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend,” I say weakly.

Her eyes snap back to my face, and there’s fire in them. “It’s not the kind of relationship I could have told you about,” she says.

I quirk an eyebrow. My mind races, trying to figure out what she could mean.

Fortunately, she doesn’t keep me in suspense for long.

“Professor Holmes.”

Her cheeks are red like tomatoes.

My jaw drops, but I quickly catch myself. I don’t recover quickly enough though, because she puts a hand on mine, as if she knows what I’m thinking.

“It’s okay to be surprised,” she says. Her eyes start to glisten. “It’s…unconventional, I know.”

Professor Holmes.

In hindsight, it should have been obvious.

It was probablyhiscar she borrowed for our trip into town.

When she left to “ask about the syllabus” during the party by the lake, it was probably to sneak off withhim. She was always tight-lipped about her whereabouts, too.

Sometimes, I got the impression she was hiding something.

Though, I would have never guessed it wasthisin a million years.

“Isn’t he like, forty?” I can’t help myself. I’m more intrigued than judgmental. I thought these sorts of situations only happened on television.

Tara smirks, but the playfulness doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Yes, but it was never about his age,” she says, slumping till the water touches her chin. “Whenever I’m with him, it’s like we are the only two people in the entire world.” She sniffles. “He saw me for who I really am.”

In all the books I’ve read, that’s how they describe true love.