He doesn’t stop. The car turns the corner and is gone.
I stand there, heart racing. He just needs space. After everything he’s just learned, after the grief he has to face again, it’s no wonder.
Still, I wish I could be with him. I hate to think of him going through it alone.
The whole video mess gnaws at me. I never meant for things to blow up. I assumed they were private, but I should’ve known Willoughby would post them.
The jangle of keys makes me whirl around. Ellenor is climbing into her car.
“Where are you going?” I yell.
“After him, of course! I’ll try to follow him.”
“I’ll come with you!” I say at once, rushing forward.
Ellenor shakes her head. “No—you’ve got your gig to get to, remember? Stay. I’ve got this.”
“She’s right,” Willoughby says to me. “We may as well head over.”
He gently pulls me away from the car, and I watch in disappointment as Ellenor drives away.
“Don’t worry,” he snickers. “She’s Brandon’s girl. If anyone can cheer him up, it’s your sister.”
I don’t like how casually he says it, reminding me that Brandon is Ellenor’s.
My chest tightens. Ellenor didn’t hesitate. She went after him without asecond thought. I had my doubts before, brushed them aside as nothing. But standing here now, watching her car disappear, I can’t shake the certainty settling in my bones: they’re in love. The thought stings more than I want to admit.
I’m glad she went after him. I’m glad he won’t be alone. But a selfish part of me wishes he weremineto console.
The thought hits me quietly at first, then all at once. I told myself I’d finally let Brandon go. That I was done pining for someone who would never be mine. And yet, here I am, standing beside another man—who I was literally kissing last night—and still thinking abouthim.
God, what’s wrong with me?
A sigh slips out as I watch the empty street, Ellenor’s car long gone.
Just one more night.I just have to get through this gig, and then I’ll tell Willoughby I’m not interested in dating him.
He brushes my arm. “Just give him some time to cool off.”
I nod. “Before we go, I need to duck upstairs and freshen up.”
“Alright. But maybe we should check on the oldies first? We all sort of ran off.”
I feel a flicker of embarrassment. I momentarily forgot about Rupert and Barbara.
And I never in a million years thought I’d forget my guitar. It feels oddly comforting, like proof that my whole world doesn’t revolve around it anymore.
Back inside Rupert and Barbara’s pink cottage, however, there’s not much to do. The dishes are already loaded in the dishwasher, Rupert’s cleaned the barbecue, and the garden…remains as chaotic as it ever was.
“Thanks for a great evening,” Willoughby says conversationally as we say goodbye in the hallway. “Bit of a shame about Brandon though, hey?”
Rupert’s wheelchair creaks as he shifts. “Don’t you do that.”
Willoughby’s smile falters. “Pardon? Do what?”
“Don’t you do that.”
Rupert’s gaze doesn’t move.
