Page 71 of Vows We Never Made

“Not to me,” she insists. “Just—thank you, okay?”

“Sure.” I look down at her, barefoot and pretty, digging her toes into the sand like she’s intent on absorbing every moment. “What’s with your mom, anyway, obsessing with your diet? Can she check the damn attitude for even a second?”

She shrugs briskly.

“She’s always been like that. Pushy. I’ve always been a little thick, and Mom has always been just… she lets me know. I guess she thinks the extra weight will magically melt off if I just follow her advice. Honestly, she isn’t wrong. Her heart’s in the right place, but she just doesn’t know how to make her point without being annoying.”

Anger kicks my gut.

Before I think better of it, I’m grabbing Hattie’s shoulders, turning her to face me.

“Fuck that, Pages,” I snarl. “You’re crazy if you think there’s anything wrong with your figure.”

Her eyes shine as we lock stares, and I realize my mistake.

I drop my hands quickly, wiping my palms on my pants.

“Point is, I know what it’s like having difficult parents,” I say. “I’m just glad we survived without a meltdown back there.”

“Just survived? I mean, they didn’t seem half-bad. You were right, they’re a lot like I remembered. Very polite and kinda formal,” she says cautiously.

We both turn, walking down the beach, step in step.

“That’s their routine. Trust me, they’re not always so welcoming. They can be selfish and bitter as hell.” I debate what to tell her and go for the ugly truth. “They weren’t fazed when the call came through about Gramps dying.”

Hattie doesn’t say anything, but I hear the way her breath catches.

“Their first thought was the estate—not that they needed more on top of Mom’s trust. And seeing as I’ve inherited the beating heart that powers that estate, they’re going to play nice. Trust me when I say their language is dollar signs.” I snort. “It gets old. Real fucking quick.”

“God, that sucks. I’m sorry,” Hattie whispers.

“That’s just how they are. When I was younger, I used to think they’d change someday. Maybe they’d get older and wiser, or maybe something would open their eyes, but they’re the same in their fifties as they were twenty years ago. Life’s no fairy tale.”

She half smiles. “Life was easier when we were kids, right?”

“Enormously. Just dicking around on the beach and riding Gramps’ yacht.”

“Nothing to worry about except the end of summer break.” She turns her face up to the sunset. “We knew how tobe. Never knew how good we had it.”

“Kids never do.” I chuckle bitterly. “Back then, the only thing I had to worry about was how many ways Margot had to try to fuck up every date I went on.”

Hattie giggles, covering her mouth as she shoots a glance at me.

“She was bad. Kinda her favorite way to liven things up. Do you remember the time she put hair dye in your shampoo and turned it that crazy green color?”

“Couldn’t get that crap out for weeks. I looked like the fucking Joker.” I scrub my hand over my hair. “Little shit.”

“She laughed so hard she peed.”

“You also laughed it up when you saw me, if I recall,” I say dryly, staring at her. “You snorted so hard snot came out your nose.”

“Did not!” She claps a hand over her face like she’s afraid of it happening again, glaring. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am I?” I cock an eyebrow, enjoying how the color crawls up her neck to her ears. “You found ithilarious. Green-haired Ethan, the biggest hit of your boring life.”

The dye really was insane.

Worse than any emo kid, I turned into a walking cartoon.