I sigh to the point my soul nearly evaporates. "Yes. That's Ben."
"He's a hottie. The way he was holding you was making me wet."
"Micah!" Sophia throws her pencil on him, glaring. "Stop it. You're not helping, you idiot. You think joking makes everything easier, but sometimes it just hurts."
Micah rolls his eyes, hands up, but then softens with mock grace. "Alright. Alright. He's still an idiot if he hurt someone like you. Don't waste sadness on some guy. Your smile's too nice for that. Like..." He smirks, almost smiles. "Really nice."
It catches me off guard, that one. Too kind to be his usualflirtation, too practiced to be pure empathy. I huff a shaky breath and half-smile. "Thanks."
"Did she eat anything?" Lu's voice cuts through the air as she appears in the doorway, dragging in a table that's seen better centuries.
"No," Micah answers before I can blink, far too eager to rat me out. "She's still on that starving artist kick. Three glasses of water and a headache pill."
"Hey!" I shoot at him, scowling. "Thought we had a deal that you won't tell on me. Seriously?!"
"Seriously," Lu says, thrusting a spoonful of peanut butter into my hand because she thinks it fixes everything. "When's the last time you actually ate?"
"When I still wanted to live," I say flatly and put the spoon back on the counter.
She rolls her eyes, unconcerned with my morbidity. "Come cut my hair."
I blink. "What? I'm not cutting your gorgeous, long hair! Why?"
"Because I'm becoming famous, and the world needs to remember me."
Before I know it, she drags me into the bathroom. Mirror. Scissors.
"Lu, you know I'm terrible at this. You really want my shaky fingers anywhere near your ears?"
"Wouldn't be the first maimed artist," she says boldly and hacks off the first lock herself. Ten inches of black silk slither to the floor. "I'll donate it so make sure you cut close to my head.Otherwise you're allowed to unleash your rage on me. Go brutal. Cropped. Then we bleach it and drown it purple. I want to look like a troubled '90s kid."
"Youarea troubled '90s kid," I remind her and she grins like it's a compliment.
Snip, snip,her gorgeous hair drifts down like wasted years.
I'm almost tempted to turn the scissors on me—already did it once—but I'm not there yet. Give it another week.
"Has he tried to call?" Lu asks, trying to sound casual while she whisks the dye.
"No. Finally understood space," I say, then catch that surgical, measuring look she throws at me in the mirror. "Can't believe you're on his side."
"Fuck that. I'm on yours." She throws the brush into the bowl. "But you need more context before torching him. None of it makes sense."
I drag in a breath, rolling my eyes, but she cuts over me.
"When I saw him, he didn't seem like the same idiot you half-dated years ago."
"Uh-huh. You were drunk out of your mind—"
"He seemed to actually love you," she cuts in, words sliding under my skin like the scissors that just nicked too close.
A beat when I just go quiet. Then I sigh, and sigh, cutting her hair, hoping it could mend everything.
"That ended the second he told me he was a father. It's not about us anymore," I rush out and my face buckles. "I just... I thought it could be our turn, finally, but I guess this is what you get for building a relationship on a lie."
Purple drips onto the tile, just as my tears start falling in her hair uncontrollably. Everything stains.
"Baby." Lucy draws me close. "Even if you guys didn't lie, that still could have happened. She was his wife, so it's obvious that they had sex before you guys started anything."
