He smiled and a wave of comfort washed over me. I wasn’t alone here. If something went wrong, if I needed someone, Derek would show up for me. This was all I’d wanted from my fiancé these past few months. Maybe if he’d been concerned about me as much as his own needs, we wouldn’t have fallen apart. Maybe.
“So that’s where you were yesterday.” Nathan was sitting at the table when I returned, a coffee cup and a plate with two slices of toast in front of him. “I should’ve figured.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee. “It wasn’t a secret.”
Nathan’s jaw ticked. “He moves fast, I’ll give him that.”
I groaned loudly. “Nathan, this isn’t high school.”
“He still has a thing for you.”
“I’m engaged.” I wiggled the finger on my left hand. “And he’s in a relationship.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
I spun toward him, a familiar surge of anger blazing through my blood. “And what? I should go for it? Because a thing like marriage won’t stand between me and what I want?”
Nathan’s eyes flared. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
My mother had made a mess of her love life since I was a kid. I couldn’t defend what she did to Nathan’s parents. The implication thatIcould do the same because of shared genes was more than unfair.
But you did do it once, the hateful voice at the edge of my mind whispered. I fought the memory of a night with Nathan in this house that I wished I could undo. I still resented him for showing me I had the same capacity for moral failing as my mother.
“I’m going for a run,” I announced before turning on my heel and heading out the door.
14
BRENNA
Eight years ago
Pure chaos greeted mewhen I opened the door to my house a few days before Thanksgiving.
I stepped over broken glass in the hallway, heading toward raised voices. I could have picked those three out in any crowd. And I knew—Iknewwithout anyone telling me—what I was walking in on.
“He’smyhusband, Kathy!” Nathan’s mom shouted at a volume I’d never heard from her before. “Myhusband.”
“You’ve been separated for months,” my mom responded evenly.
Heels clacked on the floor, and I imagined Mrs. Sharpe pacing the room. “You are mybest friend.How can you even live with yourself?”
“Leah, I’m sorry this is how you found out,” Mr. Sharpe began, his voice thick. “I was going to tell—”
“Tell me what?” she demanded. “You’retogether? We were married for twenty years, and I know it wasn’t perfect… buther? You think you’ll be able to make it work withher? This woman who runs through men like tissues? Who doesn’t give a shit she wrecked our lives? Our children’s lives? Who had no problem stabbing her best friend in the back? Is that what you want to tell me?”
“We’re having a baby.”
Curt. Smug. This was the woman who raised me. She’d passed half her DNA to me, but I couldn’t find a trace of myself in her.
“This isn’t some fling. We’re in love, starting our own family. I’m sorry this hurt you—”
“Oh fuck you, Kathy,” Mrs. Sharpe screamed.
I tiptoed my way to the stairs, unable to stomach listening to their argument any longer. Gently, I eased my bedroom door shut, taking a deep breath and willing my body to relax. It did little to loosen my tense muscles or settle my knotted stomach. Not that I expected it to. I always needed extensive alone time to recover from bursts of emotion, even when they came from other people.
“Did you know?”
