I swallow. I won’t look at him. My next words come out as a whisper. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Come here.”
I glance up at him then, confused. Surely, he doesn’t mean…surely, he won’t…
He hugs me. Out of the blue, he hugs me, long arms wrapping carefully around my shaking frame, pulling me slowly, hesitantly against his chest. I try to push away—my shirt’s soaked through with coffee, after all—but his grip remains firm, and his arms refuse to budge. So, I give up and I give in, resting my forehead against his sternum, letting my tears soak through his expensive button-up, trying and failing not to think of all the bad decisions I’ve made that led me to this moment.
I just…cry.
I cry against the chest of a man who barely tolerates me. I let him hold me because I left my support system back in Green Haven, and the one I thought I’d find here abandoned me as soon as she could. Because ever since Mel came back and it became clear to me that she doesn’t care about me, I’ve been lying to myself. I’ve been faking the smiles and going through the motions and telling myself that everything will be okay because that’s what I do. That’s what I’ve always done. That’s who I am.
But it’s not okay. I’m not okay. Maybe I will be tomorrow, but I’m not today.
“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” I mutter. I don’t know why I say it. I don’t know why I tellhimof all people. His entire body stiffens with this information, and then he does the last thing I expect. He squeezes me tighter. “I shouldn’t have come to work today. I messed everything up.”
“It was an accident,” he says in that low voice, his chest vibrating against my cheek with the words. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to gain control of my breathing. I try to remember that everyone makes mistakes, and I didn’t do it intentionally. I try not to think about how alone I feel sometimes.
It takes a while, but eventually, the tears stop and my breathing slows. I push back, and this time Landon releases me, his arms and heat falling away. I shiver immediately, already missing the feel of him. Wiping at my eyes, I take in the stains seeping through his shirt, coffee and tears and mascara.
“I ruined your shirt.” I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare at the fabric. I feel like I owe him for the hug, which is crazy.
“Who gives a fuck? I’ll toss it in the dumpster with my mom’s hideous dress.”
A hysterical-sounding laugh bubbles up in my throat at his words, and I finally force myself to meet his eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
A strange expression crosses over his face. Something almost like regret. It vanishes as quickly as it appears, only a crease remaining between his eyebrows.
“I’ve been an asshole,” he says, running his hand through his dark hair, uncomfortable. “I know I have. And it seems that when my father saw you in the house the other day, he told my mother, and, well, she’supsetthat you’re still staying there.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell her I’m moving out?” I ask, voice thick.
He clears his throat. “Violet, you don’t—”
The door to the bathroom bangs open, and Brit’s voice fills the room, more passionate than I’ve ever heard it. “Jesus Christ, Violet, are you okay? Ollie told me what the old witch said, and all I can say isfuck her.Fuck her! I take a break for fifteen fucking minutes and all hell breaks—” She pushes open the door to the stall and freezes, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Landon and me. “Oh. Guess I should have knocked.” But she makes no move to leave. Just keeps staring at Landon, heavily-lined eyes blinking, not looking sorry for having interrupted in the slightest. She holds up the white fabric in her hand. “I brought you a shirt.”
Landon clears his throat. “I should get back.”
I nod. Brit nods. Landon nods, then shimmies his way past Brit, who’s standing in the middle of the bathroom with zero intention of making it easier for him to pass.
The second he’s gone, Brit whirls on me. “What the hell was that? Did he follow you in here?”
The door cracks open, and Ollie pokes his head in. “Did Landon Blair just leave the women’s room, or am I hallucinating?”
“You’re not hallucinating, Ollie,” calls Brit. “We’ve just entered some sort of alternate reality.”
“Good to know,” Ollie says, then shuts the door.
Brit turns back to me. “Are you okay? Did he yell at you?”
I take a deep breath and tell her everything. “He was dating my sister. I live with him. And I’m pretty sure his mom just tried to get me fired for it.”
She blinks at me. “To your…she just…hold up. You have some serious explaining to do, Sunshine. But first, let’s clean you up. No offense, but you look likehell.”
* * *
I crawl into bed the moment I arrive home. The rain’s coming down outside, fitting for my mood, and I huddle under the covers, hiding from the world. I debate whether I should ever emerge. I close my eyes and think about the last time I ever saw my mom. How there was nothing special about that day. I don’t even remember most of it.
She was still in bed when I left for school. That wasn’t unusual, especially then. There was nothing out of the ordinary about our goodbyes, either.
