I start to speak, but he goes on.
“If you don’t want to share that part of yourself with me, I respect that. It’s your story to tell, when and how you want. I’ll never look you up. Cross my heart.” He swipes his index finger over his chest in a cross.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I nod, exhaling. “Okay. Good.”
“Though…” He hesitates, voice soft. “I hope someday you’ll feel safe enough to share it with me. Whatever it is, you shouldn’t have to carry it alone. If not with me, then with someone.”
“Anna knows. That’s enough.”
He nods. “Okay. But please know I’m here if you need me.”
“I won’t. But thank you.”
My words sound colder than I mean them to, but I can’t help it. I would give anything to keep my past buried—even if it means lying to one of my best friends.
CHAPTER
FIVE
MILES
Ican’t stop thinking about what just happened.
Tracey—or whatever her name was—showed up as a ghost dropped straight out of Miranda’s past, and within seconds, she managed to wreck her. One look, one cruel smirk, and Miranda crumbled.
I’ve seen her upset before—frustrated, overwhelmed, even teary-eyed, but this was different. This was raw. It was fear.
Now, sitting at the edge of the dance floor, I can’t make sense of any of it. She’s out there with Anna again, her arm wrapped around her best friend’s waist, both of them laughing like nothing ever happened. If I hadn’t been standing right next to her at the bar, I’d swear I’d imagined it.
But I didn’t. I felt her shaking. I held her while she cried.
And then—just like that—she wiped her face, reapplied her lip gloss, and walked straight into the crowd as if she hadn’t just come face-to-face with something that turned her to stone.
I sip my drink and pretend to listen to Jaden, who’s sitting beside me, going on about how proud he is of Anna. I nod, throwin a “yeah” and a “she deserves it,” but my eyes keep drifting back to Miranda.
She’s stunning tonight, of course. She always is. Her hair’s come a little loose from the updo, and her smile is bright and easy, lighting up her whole face. She lookshappy. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe she really is.
But I do know better.
The way her body tensed when that woman said Clive’s name—it was like her whole world tilted. Her breathing changed, her pulse jumped under my hands, and for a second, I thought she might pass out. I’ve seen fear before, but never like that.
And the worst part? I have no idea why.
Miranda’s always been private about her past. She talks about her work, her friendship with Anna, and random bits about growing up together, but never specifics. No stories about high school, no mentions of family beyond vague comments. I’ve never pressed because she’s always been this calm, put-together, sunshine-in-human-form kind of woman. The kind who seems untouched by anything ugly.
Now I’m realizing that was naive.
She told me not to ask questions. She made me promise not to look her up online. And I meant it when I said I wouldn’t—but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to know.
Because something about that exchange tonight wasn’t just awkward. It washeavy. Like, there’s a part of her life that’s dangerous or painful enough that she’s built an entire wall around it.
“Man, you good?” Jaden asks, nudging my arm.
I blink and refocus. “Yeah. Just tired.”
