Jamie hesitated. Between the mess with her father and the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days, she wasn’t in the mood. But one look at Ruth’s determined expression and she sighed.
“Fine,” she relented. “But keep it casual—nothing fancy.”
Ruth winked. “No promises.”
Ofcourse Ruth went overboard. She decked out Nolan’s house withcongratulationsbanners and even bought Jamie a graduation gown—because nothing says “totally legitimate achievement” like a cheap polyester robe. But Jamie refused to wear it.
Dinner was Ruth’s doing too: Beef Wellington, because apparently a fake graduation calls for one of the hardest dishes on the planet.
“I reckon you should graduate more often,” Clayton said, his mouth full.
Jamie smirked. “Once was enough, thanks.”
“Are you going to college now, Miss Jamie?” Emily asked, wide-eyed.
Jamie smiled. “No, sweetie. I’m done with school.”
A ping sounded from Ruth’s phone and Jamie cocked her head.
“Everyone I know is here,” Ruth said, glancing at her screen. “I’ll turn it off.”
“Who is it?” Jamie asked.
Ruth shook her head. “Just a notification. I’ll tell you later.”
“Tell me now.” Jamie put down her fork. “What’s so important?”
Ruth wiped her hands on a napkin. “It looks like Derrick called off his engagement.”
“Who’s Derrick?” Charlotte asked, swinging her feet under the table.
Jamie hesitated. She didn’t want to lie to the kids. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
Charlotte scrunched her nose. “Well, then I hate him.”
Jamie laughed. “Me too.”
“Me three,” Clayton added, flashing a grin.
“Whatever. It was just a publicity stunt,” Nolan said.
Jamie frowned. “What? How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “Derrick told Clay in Los Angeles.”
Jamie’s stomach coiled. Her pulse thumped in her ears as she turned sharply to Clayton. “He was in LA?”
The table fell into silence, heavy and suffocating.
Nolan shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry, Jamie. I thought he told you.”
“He didn’t.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but its ice was unmistakable.
A slow, awful realization crept over her, tightening around her ribs like a vise. He’d kept this from her. Not just any secret—one that mattered. It wasn’t a white lie or an innocent omission. It was deliberate.
Clayton exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to upset you.”
Jamie let out a sharp, humorless laugh, though there was nothing funny about how her chest ached. “Good job, Clayton.”
