Clara and I sat on the porch, lemonade sweating in tall glasses, the hum of life buzzing from the tree line.The screen door creaked every time the breeze shifted, and for once, neither of us was rushing off to something.
“You know,” Clara said quietly, tracing her finger around the rim of her glass, “if you hadn’t believed him… If you hadn’t believed him when I didn’t… I would have left Mason.I was ready to walk away.I would be divorced right now.”
I stared at her, throat tight, heart caught between guilt and something else I couldn’t name.“Clara...”
She shook her head, eyes bright but steady.“I don’t mean it to hurt you by bringing this up, because I know you still hold some odd sense of guilt or anxiety.I just… I need you to know.Your belief… it gave me enough cause to fight for him.To fight for us.I didn’t see what you saw.I didn’t want to.But you did.I couldn't see past the hurt.But you gave him a chance, and you helped him.Helped us...I...we owe you so much, Cass.”
I exhaled hard, trying to find levity, trying to breathe through the sting.“Well… my belief in men has to pay offsometime,right?”
Clara let out a wet laugh, nudging her shoulder into mine.“Oh my god, Cassidy.”
For a moment, it was quiet.The smell of cut grass drifted from a neighbouring yard.Jackson’s laughter carried faintly through the open windows inside.
Clara shifted, eyes turning serious again.“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“After you found out… after you knew he was married… why did you stay?”
The question knocked the air from me.I stared out at the yard, at the fading streaks of pink in the sky, at anything but her eyes.
“It’s a lot of things,” I admitted slowly.“He manipulated me.He always knew exactly when to pull me back in.The promises, the apologies, the big sweeping gestures, they made me believe, or maybe they made mewantto believe.I was desperate to think it was love.That it was real.That I wasn’t just… being used.That I wasn't this horrible thing.”
The words scraped coming out, but once they started, I couldn’t stop.
“I tried to leave.So many times.But every time, he reeled me back in.And maybe… maybe I had to see it for what it really was before I could finally walk away.Maybe I needed it to break completely.I was so in it.I was blinded by what I thought we could be.I loved him, Clara. And he played me perfectly.”
Her hand covered mine, squeezing.“I hate him for that.”
“I hate myself for letting him.”
“Don’t,” she said fiercely.“Don’t you dare.You were lied to, manipulated, and cornered.That isn’t love, Cass.It’s control.”
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back.
Clara softened, thumb brushing over my knuckles.“So… what’s going on with Brody?”
A laugh bubbled out of me, fragile but real.“Wow, we are covering all emotional bases today on porch talk time."I took a deep breath and continued."Honestly?I don’t know.”
Clara arched a brow.
I shook my head, smiling despite myself.“We’ve been spending time together.Camping, helping Adam, talking.And… he wants to go again.Camping.On the property I bought to build on.Said I should see how the sun sets and rises in different spots before I decide where to build.”
Clara smirked.“That sounds suspiciously like dating.”
“It’s not,” I protested, heat creeping up my neck.“I mean… I don’t think it is.We’re just… us.We’ve always been us.The Palmers have always treated us like family.”
Clara gave me a soft smile, "They have, but they all treat you and look at you differently."
I took a sip of my lemonade, and she continued."Adam has always treated you as a little sister.Maybe not so much now with the overt flirting, but I think that has more to do with making you feel like you again or messing with Brody.Judy and Dean have always treated you as a daughter.Brody...Now, Brody has always been respectful, thanks to our family's relationship and the age difference that came with growing up.But the way he looks at you..."
"How does he look at me?"I almost whispered, my eyes locked on hers.
She gave me a smile that only your big sister can give, "Like he's been waiting a long time for you."
I sucked in a breath.That couldn't be true, could it?I tried to push the idea away.I was too broken, Brody couldn't want me like that...But then the image of his eyes in firelight, the brush of his hand against mine, how it felt to be held in his arms, the steady way he saidbefore nowreplayed in my chest, warm and steady.
Clara tilted her head, studying me like she could see through all my denials.“Do you want my advice?”
