So what would Kate Chen do?
You guessed it.
Wear taller heels, sharpen my eyeliner, and stomp across anyone who gets in my path. Being vulnerable is overrated. And despite all myefforts to grow, all I’ve gotten in return is a broken heart, a sister who won’t talk to me, and a no-contact parental relationship.
It’s the Sunday morning after Amantha insisted on having a girls’ weekend full of sleepovers, and I’m languishing in the dark, vacant room like the black cat I am. Whatever black-out curtains Amantha hung in Anthony’s bedroom areextremelyeffective. As much as I love my faux-nephew, I’m glad to have some privacy while he’s spending the weekend at his dad’s.
I vow to buy myself a pair of the magic, soul-sucking curtains as I snuggle deeper beneath the soft cotton bedspread and lap up the darkness. But then the door to Anthony’s bedroom flies open, and Amantha flicks on the light.
I hiss like a deranged cat, still wearing last night’s work out clothes. Because even though I’m heartbroken, I refuse to get out of shape, too.
Amantha marches toward the window, yanking the curtains open to the bright sunshine.
“Get up,” she demands, then wrinkles her nose. “You need to shower. Anthony’s gonna be home tonight from Ryan’s, so we gotta move you to the office futon.”
My back aches just thinking about it, but I’m not gonna complain. Plus, Amantha is the kind of friend that wouldn’t kick me out even if I pooped on her rug like an actual house cat.
Iamsurprised she’s this chipper today, seeing as we stayed up so late last night.
I finally cracked last night and told Amantha all about Hopefully Yours. Maybe Liza calling me out that I was keeping something from her or Brandon saying that I’m like my parents flipped my moral compass.
Amantha’s gray eyes were huge last night as I recounted the texts. The failed calls. The disconnected beeps and undeliverable responses. By the time I got to the topic of the unaddressed packages on my doorstep, I was weeping with Amantha’s arms around me.
She showed no sense of hurt over me not telling her sooner. As if she trusted that I made the right choice for the both of us, the same way she did for me when all of that crime stuff went down at the museum last year.
We had each other’s backs, no matter what.
Just like Liza and I used to.
A fresh wave of sadness had drenched me, and I got sucked into another whirlpool of tears. Everything was going to crap. My team of supporters had dwindled to one, and I couldn’t even think of anyone else to recruit.
Val had walked into our evening cry-fest from the front door, holding bags of take-out and a carton of ice cream. He must have had a work meeting at the museum, because he was still wearing his expensive slacks and white button up shirt.
“You called?” Val gave a nervous grin, gesturing with the bags. “Did I do something stupid again and this a ‘Val-is-the-worst-rallying-war-cry’ session, or am I off the hook?”
Amantha had let out a watery laugh. “You’re off the hook. But if you forgot my ice cream, you’re a dead man.” She grinned as Val lifted the carton as proof. He plopped the bags on the dining room table, unpacking containers while sweeping us with a clinical eye.
“Okay, fill me in,” he said. “Who do I need to murder? As long as it’s not my assistant, I’m game.”
A tired laugh puffed out of me. “It’s not Brandon this time, but thanks for making it clear whose side you’re on, Russo.”
He tipped a grin in my direction. “Can’t murder my best man a month before my wedding. Amantha would kill me.”
I groaned and flopped over onto the armrest of the couch. “Guys. I’m so sorry. You only have a month left! You don’t have time for my drama.”
Amantha hauled me up and into a hug. “You are more important than the pushy caterers.”
“They’restillbugging you?” Val looked back up from unloading the takeout. “That’s it. Put it on my checklist. I’m taking that task off yours.”
The heated look in Amantha’s eyes made me miss Brandon so much that a pang reverberated behind my sternum. I rubbed the ache and forced in a deep breath.
Amantha’s intuition must have rubbed off on Val, because concern I’d never seen in him before pinched his brow as he took me in.
“What’s going on, Kate?” he asked.
Amantha chewed her lip, turning to me. “Is it okay if I tell him?”
I nodded, and she filled Val in about H.Y. To my surprise, he pulled out his phone mid-conversation and began to type.
