Downstairs, Dad's already started breakfast. I can hear the coffee maker brewing, the sound of bacon sizzling in the cast iron pan Mom used to use. The normalcy of it hollows me out.
Emma's in the kitchen when I get there, still in her pajamas. She takes one look at my face and immediately pours coffee into my favorite mug.
"Rough night?" she asks quietly.
I accept the coffee and wrap both hands around it. "Something like that."
Connor emerges from the guest room as I'm setting the table. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second before sliding away. The silence between us feels like something with teeth.
We eat Dad's attempt at Mom's famous morning casserole. Usually I have seconds. Today, each bite tastes like cardboard,but I force it down anyway because Dad keeps glancing at my plate with worry written all over his face.
After we finish coffee and breakfast, Emma and I end up in my room, sprawled across my bed like we used to do in high school.
"Want to talk about it?" Emma asks eventually.
"Connor hates me."
"Connor doesn't hate you." Emma sets down her phone. "But he was way out of line last night."
"He thinks I'm a mess. That I make terrible choices." The words scrape out of me.
"He's not wrong though, is he?" The question tumbles out before I can stop it. "I mean, look at my track record. Tyler, who cheated on me for six months before I figured it out. Brad, who forgot my birthday three years in a row. And now Ryder, who left without looking back."
"Lucy, stop."
"Maybe Connor's right. Maybe I am the common denominator. Maybe I just pick men who are going to leave because some part of me knows I'm not worth the trouble of staying for."
"Stop." Emma sits up, her voice sharp. "Stop it right now."
She glares at me with an intensity that would be scary if I didn't know it came from love.
"Connor is being a judgmental jerk," she says. "And Ryder left after Connor ambushed you both. You don't even know what he's thinking."
"He hasn't texted me."
"Maybe he needed time to cool down. Maybe he's trying to respect family time. Maybe a thousand things that have nothing to do with you not being enough."
Dinner is strained. Dad tries to keep conversation flowing with stories about work and questions about our jobs. Emma jumps in with updates about her office, about anything and everything that might fill the silence.
Connor says almost nothing.
I push food around my plate and try to look engaged. Emma kicks me under the table when I space out during one of Dad's stories.
"Lucy's been distracted all day," Connor says. It's the first full sentence he's directed at me since yesterday.
Everyone goes quiet.
"Just tired," I say lightly.
"Right. Tired." His tone suggests he doesn't believe me. "Nothing to do with your hockey player boyfriend?"
Emma's fork clatters against her plate. "Connor."
"What? We're all thinking it."
Dad sets down his wine glass with deliberate care. "That's enough."
"Is it though?" Connor's looking at me now, really looking at me. "Because I'm the only one who seems concerned that Lucy's making the same mistakes she always makes."
