“But now I’m crying overhim?” I whispered. “Over Theo-fucking-Astor?” I laughed again. Sharp. Bitter. Empty. “I knew better. Iknew. And I still let myself believe he’d choose me.”
Because I’d believed in what we had. In the soft, quiet mornings in the Caymans. The way his hand would find mine when we crossed the street. The way he listened, like every word I said, mattered. The way he kissed me like I was something holy, something he’d never been allowed to want, but did anyway.
I had pictured it. What we could be. If only we allowed ourselves.
We would get out. Leave the blood-money families behind. I’d start designing again, and he’d... I don’t know. He’d write. Or teach. Or just be free. He’d have the time to find himself. We’d find a shitty little apartment with bad plumbing and late rent, and we’d fight about takeout and bedcovers and whose turn it was to buy toilet paper. He’d fall asleep with his head in my lap. I’d wake up to the sound of his laugh.
It would’ve been enough. That life. With him.
But instead... here I was. Holding myself together like shattered glass in a box too small to contain it.
“You don’t cry because of him, babe,” Thalia said softly. “You cry because youloved. And you wanted to be loved back.” She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “That’s not weakness. That’s hope. That’s brave.”
“Hope is for idiots,” I muttered, wiping my dripping nose on my sleeve.
Thalia tilted her head. “Then you’re the bravest idiot I’ve ever met.”
It broke something in me. A wet, choking laugh slipped out before I could stop it. Then silence. Heavy, but not unbearable. The kind you can share with someone who knows the shape of your pain.
I looked over at her. Her eyeliner had smudged, but she still looked beautiful, fierce. She was the only person who had never once made me feel small. The only one who knew the whole messy, bitter, furious truth of me and stayed anyway.
Thalia bumped her shoulder into mine. “Get up.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You need to wear something slutty, dance with someone pretty. Andnotspend another night spiraling over someone who can’t even tell you the truth.”
I stared at her. “I can’t?—”
“Youcan,” she said, already sliding off the bed. “Because I’ll be there, so will Claire. And because the best way to get over an asshole like Theo is to get under—or on top of—someone else.” She gave me a look that was half-wicked, half-worried. “Preferably someone who doesn’t come with a dynasty and a denial complex.”
I exhaled. It sounded like surrender. “Okay,” I said quietly. “But you’re not leaving me alone, right?”
“Never,” she said. “You’re mine until further notice. Now put on something that screams ‘I don’t need anyone’ but also ‘I’m a fucking god’.”
Despite everything, a shaky smile crept across my lips. And as Thalia rummaged through my closet, throwing dramatic commentary about sequins and sheer tops, I stood.
Still broken. Still bleeding. But not alone. And maybe—for tonight—that would be enough.
Claire wasour designated driver for the night as she had to be at her second job early in the morning. Thalia and I pre-gamed before we left the apartment, anything to make our evening cheaper. None of us were flush with cash, even though two of our families were one percenters. The irony of our current situation wasn’t lost on me.
But as the cheap tequila slogged through my veins, mingling with the vodka that saturated me, I felt like I’d been stuffed with cotton wool. The world was loud and muffled at the same time.
Stuck in some kind of fever dream where reality didn’t feel real, we belted out whatever song came over the radio. Thedarkness of the freeway gave way to the orange glow of city lights.
“Where are we going again?” I slung my arms around the head rest of the front seats and looked at Thalia while I poked her shoulder with my other hand. Confusing the hell out of her for a second until her brain caught up.
“Nocturne,” she chuckled, batting my hand away.
“We’re just entering Marlow Heights,” Claire added.
It turned out this club was the kind of place where time warped. Red lights cut through the dark like veins. The bass pulsed like a second heartbeat. Bodies moved together in sweat-slick rhythm, strangers becoming stories in the space of a song.
Thalia led us straight through the crowd, magnetic and unapologetic as always. I followed her like a shadow, letting the music numb me. Letting the noise drown out the storm still screaming inside my head.
I was just drunk enough, just tired enough, to let my head fall back and my body sway, allowing the beat to swallow me whole. I danced with a girl with thick lashes and a smile sharp enough to cut. She moved like she didn’t care who was watching. Maybe that’s what drew me in. I didn’t have to pretend with her. I didn’t have tobeanyone.
Just this. Just here. Just for tonight.
