She stepped closer, one eyebrow raised. Like she was giving me one last shot to change course, rethink my side. And then she shook her head. “And this one, I mean, seriously?” She gestured around the group. “Is it the big brown eyes that have everyone fooled?” She widened her own eyes in a play at faux innocence. “Has no one thought this was odd? That she takes the job of the guy killed next door and my boyfriend?”
I shook my head as if I could deny it. People looked down, looked away.
“I see you,” Ruby said, softer now. “I see everything about you, Harper.” She was up in my face. I was tired of being pushed around by her. I was so, so angry. Not just about her actions; anything could be forgiven if you chose to forgive. And the past, with Aidan, was so long ago. But because of the way I found out, from Preston. That sharp, hot humiliation—the thing that made me ache with the need to push back. To do something.
I pressed my hand to her shoulder and shoved. Hard enough that she stumbled. “I took you in,” I said as she regained her footing, eyes wide from surprise.
“Oh, like hell you took me in. You’re just too scared to tell me to go. And why, Harper? Why is that?”
“What are you saying?” I asked. Because if she said it, I could defend it. If she said it, I could accuse her. An equal and opposite reaction. “You think I hurt them?”
“No, I don’t think you have it in you.” She said it not as a compliment but to imply a lack of backbone, a lack of agency. “I think you’re an opportunist, Harper. That you only know what you don’t want. I don’t think you can ever be happy as yourself.”
My eyes burned under her unflinching gaze. Something stirring in the wake of her words. Something too close to the truth. The way I had crafted myself in reaction to something else: in contrast to Kellen; to Aidan; to her.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said, the words barely audible. Out of this party, out of my home, out of my life.
“Come on, Ruby,” Mac said once more, arm out like he was the one who could calm her. His hand made contact with her arm, and she flinched. “Don’t,” she said, and I wondered suddenly how much he had hurt her. How much she had the capacity to let herself be hurt. I’d thought she didn’t have it in her anymore. That she had hardened herself, by necessity, for her survival.
“Please,” he said, and this time she followed him. Out the pool gate, down the trail, to the water’s edge. I couldn’t see them clearly through the trees. Couldn’t tell whether she was taking a few deep breaths or whether he was talking her down. What she was saying in response. Until I saw her head lower, her shoulders contract, and her body retreat into Mac’s chest, where his arms wrapped around her back.
In the silence, Tate refilled the container of lemonade from her cooler under the table. “I see she hasn’t changed,” she mumbled, and someone laughed, the tension dissipating.
My hands still shook from the adrenaline, and I felt lost, ungrounded. Ruby’s words returning again so I could see myself only as she might. Seeing only what I didn’t want to be. What I couldn’t be. A career helping others begin the next stage of life but neglecting my own in the process. Staying on the same path, letting the momentum carry me, so I wouldn’t have to look too closely.
“Harper?” Javier had taken over at the grill, flipping the burgers. “Cheese on your burger?” He tipped his head, his dark eyes friendly, like nothing had happened. Like we were all expected to resume our roles now; we’d settled something, dealt with it, and could continue on.
My stomach rolled. “No, thanks,” I said.
I looked around for my blue mug, which I’d left on the white folding table, but I couldn’t find it. I only saw the purple one, left on the concrete, behind a chair; Ruby must’ve misplaced hers and taken mine. I rinsed hers out in the water fountain, where Charlotte was refilling two plastic cups for the girls. She gave me a sympathetic smile as I scooped up the water, letting it run down the back of my neck. I filled the cup with Tate’s lemonade after—it really was the better one.
Preston stood beside me, held out a bottle of vodka. “Tell me when,” he said as he poured.
“When,” I said, but he kept going. Gave me a knowing grin. Chucked me on the chin like I was a kid who needed a pick-me-up.
I followed his gaze to where Mac and Ruby were walking back up the path, side by side, in silence.
Whitney called out to Preston from the lounge chair, plastic cup held forward. “Me, too, please.”