“Of course it did.”
“—and I finally got him to leave when I told him I’d think about getting back together.”
My jaw drops, and I hastily bring it back up. I don’t want her to think I blame her.
“It’s what he wanted, it was the only way to get rid of him,” she says.
And guarantees he’ll be back.But I don’t tell her that. She surely already knows. And what choice did she have?
“Tess, this isn’t normal. People don’t act like this.”
“I know,” she says. “He’s having trouble letting go.”
I’m shaking with frustration and fury. What kind of monster would act like this? And toTess, of all people?
And here, I thought my problems were so important. Even the thing with Christopher pales compared to this. The mind games Sawyer plays? Just that: little games.
I wish there was something I could do for her.
“Does anyone else know about this?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. There was nothing to tell before tonight.”
“What about Nash?” From the little I remember about her brother, I’d bet money if he already knew, this guy wouldn’t dare mess with Tess.
“I wouldn’t want to bother him, he’s got his own life.”
That’s the fourth time.
My fingernails dig into my palms so hard, I expect to draw blood. “Do you have anyone you can stay with?”
She half-laughs, half-sobs. “I haven’t done a good job keeping up with my friends.”
Of course she doesn’t. Her asshole ex would have isolated her as much as possible.
I give her a reassuring smile.
She says, “Is that supposed to be a smile?”
A disbelieving, single syllable resembling a laugh escapes my throat. “It was supposed to be. Come home with me tonight. Gia would kill me if I let you stay anywhere else.”
“No.” She says it with so much fortitude, I draw back a little. “Tonight’s done, he won’t be back.”
“But—“
“I mean it, Brie. He won’t be back for a while. I won’t let this disrupt my life anymore, let alone anyone else’s.”
“But we’re friends, it’s not a disruption. Iwant?—”
“We are friends. Thank you.” She stoops to hug me, seeming entirely too much like her usual self.
When she pulls back, I don’t let go. I won’t. I have to do something. I rack my brain.
“Promise me something,” I say. “Tell someone else. Tell Nash.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. She really believes she’s a burden to her big brother.
“Tell him,” I urge, “and let him know I know.”
