“I wrote her a check then and there for ten thousand dollars. Told her I wouldn’t say a word if she broke up with him and left. She did. Hadn’t heard a word from her until sheshowed up at my school.”
Grace paled, and I faced the parking lot instead of her, already imagining the things she’d say about what I did.
“Fritz doesn’t know.”
“No. And she’s back, threatening to tell him if I don’t give her more money.”
“Fuck, Gilly.” Grace groaned and leaned back into her seat, the light squeak of her seat stabbing the silent air. “Have you given her more?”
“About fifty bucks and my car.”
She sucked in a breath and didn’t say a word. Nothing for a full minute before she said, “I love you and I understand why you did what you did, but you need to tell Fritz.”
“I know. I just…” Tears stung my eyes at shame and regret. It proved their point about my money and how I used it to solve everything. “He’ll hate me.”
“Keeping this from him is worse.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel, hard, and shook her head. “Tell him. I mean it. She is extorting you and is going to do worse. That’s how people like her work. Fritz will be pissed, Gil, but he’ll forgive you with time. You must know that.”
I twisted my fingers together so tight they hurt as the severity of her words sank in. She was right. It was due time, and I owed my brother the truth. “Yeah.”
“Tonight.”
“What?”
“You gave her your car, Gilly. What the hell? You need to tell him tonight.” She narrowed her eyes at me and jutted her chin to my phone. “Now.”
“I didn’t give her my car. She’s borrowing it until the weekend.”
“Oh, okay. You’re arguing small details that don’t matter?”
Her anger fueled my guilt, and I texted him to head to the Anderson’s. He agreed, and the drive to their house—right next to Christopher’s parents—sent my thoughts into a whirlwind of varying levels of awful.
Fritz could hate me. What if he never forgave me and cut me out of his life?
What if he didn’t believe me and went back to her?Oh God.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to figure out the right way of how to do it. Did I lead up to it? Just blurt it out?
“I’m sorry this happened,” Grace said as she parked in her driveway and reached over to squeeze my forearm. “I’m notmadat you.I’ll support you until the grave, Gil, but this is too big to keep from Fritz.”
“I know,” I said, sighing and letting my gaze shift over to Christopher’s parents. His car was outside, and a small blip of hope blossomed at maybe seeing him, but it extinguished knowing he too was a part of my inner turmoil.
“I’ll make the margaritas. You think about what you’re going to say.”
We went into their house, and I sat in my usual spot on the La-Z-Boy. She had a pitcher made when Fritz walked in. He raised his brows in greeting to me before heading straight into the kitchen. Normally, seeing him walk in made me happy, as we were our own little family of four, but not now.
“Grace, my girl, I needshots.”
“Oh, okay.” Grace frowned and met my eyes, wordlessly saying,what the hell?
Fritz poured two shots of whiskey and took them back to back, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, and he had a sad, almost feral look about him. “Samantha.”
“Wh-what about her?” I asked, Grace’s penetrating stare pinned on me.
“She texted me:hey Fritz, miss you.” He got a glass of the margarita and took a long sip. So long in fact, he’d be drunk pretty soon. “Miss you. She left me without a goddamn word and messed with my head so much, and this happens as soon as I think I’m over it.”
Grace’s eye twitched as he got another shot, and she took the bottle away from him. “No more, Fritz. It’s Thursday.”
“It’s not a school night for me, Grace,” he fired back, wincing at the end. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He went up to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “My anger is not at you. Either of you. I love the shit out of both of you. Even Brock. Don’t tell him though.”
