On the drive back, I let myself look at Charleston the way I had when I first arrived—beauty everywhere, history in thebricks, sunlight on wrought-iron balconies. But the city felt different now. Less like a backdrop. More like a witness.
Wyatt hadn’t texted.
And I didn’t make that mean anything.
Because here was what I knew: If a man had told me he loved me while buried in the truth of himself, if he’d taken my gift with him like a talisman, if he’d held me all night like he was afraid of the world taking me away?—
Then he’d come back.
Maybe not in a neat way. Maybe not on my timeline.
But he would.
And if he didn’t?
Then that wouldn’t be about my worth. It would be about his capacity.
I refused to shrink myself into panic.
When I walked into The Palmetto Rose lobby, Beth and Natasha were already there—Beth in a sundress that looked like she’d bought it solely to be dramatic, Natasha in neat jeans and a blouse, composed as ever.
They both looked up at the same time.
Natasha’s eyes went immediately to my face. Then my posture. Then my hands.
Beth’s eyes went straight to my neck like she had a sixth sense for sin.
“Oh,” Beth said, drawing the word out like she was tasting it. “Hello.”
I slowed, already laughing. “Don’t.”
Natasha stood, her expression carefully neutral in the way that meant she was about to say something devastating. “Good morning.”
Beth took three steps closer, squinting like a detective. “Is that?—”
“It’s concealer,” I cut in quickly.
Beth’s grin widened. “So, yes.”
Natasha’s mouth twitched. “It appears someone had a productive evening.”
“Can we not do this in the lobby?” I said, but it came out amused, not defensive.
Beth looped her arm through mine. “Oh, we can. We absolutely can. But fine. Upstairs. For your dignity.”
We rode the elevator together, Beth making satisfied little noises like she was cataloging her own victory, Natasha watching me with that steady, quiet warmth that always made me feel safer than I wanted to admit.
The second the door closed behind us in our room, Beth spun and pointed at my neck like she was accusing me in court.
“Show me.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Sophie,” she warned.
I sighed and tilted my chin up, pulling my hair aside.
Beth made a noise that was half gasp, half laugh. “Oh, he bit you.”
