“Well, you don’t have anything to?—”
A knock at the door interrupted me. James looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “Do you think it’s your dad?”
“Better not be,” I grumbled. “Or fucking Trevor.”
James gave my hand a squeeze before heading to the door. He got up on his tip-toes, looking through the peephole. The moment he did, he let out a gasp.
“What?” I asked, heading toward him. “Who is it?”
“It… It’s Brittany.”
My stomach dropped like a stone.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed, keeping my voice low enough that Stacey wouldn’t hear from the bathroom. “Why the hell is she here?”
James looked as stunned as I felt. “I have no idea.”
Another knock, more insistent this time.
“James? Kent? I know you’re in there. I can hear you talking,” Brittany’s voice called through the door.
“Christ,” I muttered. “This can’t be happening.”
James hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. “Should I let her in?”
I ran my hands through my hair, mind racing. Brittany showing up now, with Stacey here, was the worst possible timing. But I knew Brittany well enough to know she wouldn’t leave until she got what she came for.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said finally. “If we don’t answer, she’ll just keep knocking, and your mom will hear.”
James nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Brittany stood there looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine cover. She had perfectly styled blonde hair, designer jeans, and that practiced smile that used to make my heart race but now just made my skin crawl. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw James, then flickered past him to me.
“Kent,” she said, her voice softening. “Finally.”
“What are you doing here, Brittany?” I asked, keeping my distance.
She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, her perfume filling the small space between us. “Stacey called me,”she said, as if that explained everything. “She told me about the divorce. She texted me last night to come over this morning and make sure you were okay.”
James shut the door behind her, his face carefully blank. “You could have called first.”
Brittany barely spared him a glance. “I tried, but I guess my messages haven’t been getting through.” The tone in her voice suggested she knew full well that I’d blocked her. Still, she moved closer to me, reaching for my hand. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I pulled away before she could touch me. “Brittany, this isn’t a good time. And we’ve been over for weeks. It was you that kicked me out, remember?”
“I know things ended badly,” she said, her voice taking on that pleading tone I recognized from countless arguments. “But with everything happening with your parents, I thought maybe we could talk. Start fresh.”
Before I could reply, the bathroom door opened, and Stacey emerged, her face lighting up when she saw Brittany. “Brittany? What are you doing here?”
“You sent me a text,” Brittany responded innocently.
“I sent you another one telling you not to come. This morning.”
“Oh no!” Brittany giggled, playing innocent. But I knew better. “I must’ve missed it.” She walked up to Stacey, taking her hand. “I’m glad I did though. You need the support today. How are you holding up?”
“Better now that I’m here with the boys,” Stacey replied. She looked between Brittany and me with barely concealed hope. “Do you two need some privacy?”
“No,” Brittany smiled. “I don’t mind saying this in front of you, Stacey. You’re family.” Brittany turned, her face cemented into a smile. “I love you, Kent. And I was stupid for breaking upwith you. I didn’t realize how good I had it and I’m sorry for not appreciating you more.” She paused for dramatic effect. “And I came here this morning to ask you to come home, to move back in with me.”
