“Oh my god.”
“Oh yes,” she said, sipping with relish. “Turns out, Graham tried to give a little speech to thank everyone for coming, brag about his imported truffle oil, the décor—I had no idea he was such an ass. I swear. He was always nice to me back in school. I had no idea that side of him existed. He was so condescending to you. What was up with that?”
“He’s good at making people see what he wants them to.”
Her expression shifted, guilt flickering in her eyes. “I should’ve seen the real him sooner,” she murmured, tracing the rim of her cup. “I always thought Graham was harmless, you know? All charm and no bite. I hate that I missed the signs, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you like I should have been.”
Without thinking, I reached across the counter, squeezing her hand. “You have nothing to apologize for,” I said softly. “You can’t be there for someone if they don’t tell you what’s going on.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here now, though, I promise. Anyway, Piper and Paige had no such illusions about him,” Cara said, eyes dancing, “Piper started asking pointed questions in her bakery competition voice. About how exactly he sourced his flour, and if he had gluten-free options on his menu. Then Paige chimed in about how ironic it was that a man so full of himself was serving such small portions.”
I choked on a laugh. “They didn’t.”
“They absolutely did. Lucy and I were trying to disappear into the wallpaper while Piper and Paige dismantled him with surgical precision. By the time dessert came out, Graham looked like he was trying to remember if he’d invited them or they’d invited themselves.”
I laughed again, but it came out a little shaky.
Cara’s smile softened. “Hey. You okay?”
I looked at her. Really looked. Cara wasn’t just the sister who saw everything; she was the one who waited until you were ready to admit you needed her. She never pushed, never demandedconfessions or explanations; instead, her presence was steady and patient, like a porch light left on for someone wandering home in the dark. In that moment, with her hand warm over mine and concern brushed across her features, I felt the pressure I’d been feeling since I got here ease.
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Graham came by this morning.” I opened my mouth, searching for a way to explain, but the words tangled up. The truth felt heavy, like a stone pressing on my chest. “I didn’t want anyone to look at me differently,” I managed. “I thought if I kept quiet, it would all just fade away on its own. That’s why I never said anything to anybody about him.”
Her face darkened. “What did he say?”
“He apologized. Sort of.” I hesitated. “But it felt fake. Like he was warning me more than anything.”
Cara straightened. “He threatened you?”
“No, not directly. But he made it clear he knows people are talking. And he doesn’t like being embarrassed.” I hesitated. “And I think he blames me.”
“Eliza—”
“He was awful when we dated,” I said quietly. “Mean. Controlling. Always making me feel like I owed him. That I was lucky he chose me to be with.” I bit my lip, anxiety twisting in my stomach. “I just—every time I think it’s over, he finds a way to remind me it isn’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. “It’s like he’s always lurking in the background, waiting for me to slip up.”
Cara’s face crumpled for a second, then set. “I wish you had told us. I wish I had known. Oh, Eliza, I’m so sorry?—”
My breath stuttered in my throat, the old memories scraping raw at the edges. I hadn’t meant to say so much, hadn’t planned on letting it spill out, but Cara’s steady presence made it impossible to keep everything locked inside. The silence between us felt safe, almost protective, as if nothing Grahamsaid or did could reach me here. For the briefest moment, I let myself lean into that comfort, wishing it could last.
“I didn’t want to deal with the fallout,” I admitted. “Or the pity. Or the I-told-you-so from my mother over dating an older man. And now I have a chance with Nate, and I’m scared that if Graham decides to be vindictive, he’ll hurt the Pennywhistle. Or Nate. Or both.”
Cara leaned across the counter and covered my hand with hers. “Then we don’t let him.”
I blinked. “What?”
“We don’t let him scare you. Or hurt Nate. Or make you feel like you’re alone in this.” Her voice shook. “You’re not.” She squeezed my hand a little tighter, her eyes fierce with determination. “We stand together, Eliza. No matter what he tries, we’ll protect you. You’re not alone, please believe it.” The words settled around me, heavy and reassuring, like a warm blanket against the chill of old fears.
I swallowed hard.
“You have us,” she said firmly. “Piper and Paige are probably planning another takedown as we speak. And Lucy and I will do anything to help, too. We’re not going anywhere. He can’t hurt you now that you’re home with your family. I promise. We’re here, let us be. Okay? Please.”
Something cracked open in my chest—something small and lonely and scared.
I squeezed her hand.
And for the first time in a long time, I believed I would be okay.
Cara didn’t let go of my hand.
