‘Whatyoucould have done differently?’ Alice echoed, stuck on that phrase. ‘You must know there wasn’t anything you could have done. It was my fault.’
Noah tsked. ‘When you told me before graduation that you didn’t want to try long distance, I should have just accepted that. I shouldn’t have drawn it out, pretending things were fine while you were at camp. Then I wouldn’t have been blindsided by you showing up to my house and telling me things were really over between us.’
‘Even if we’d ended things before camp, I don’t know that it would have made a difference,’ Alice said honestly. ‘I don’t know that I would have been able to come back, either way.’
Because it wasn’t the kiss itself that had upended Alice’s life, but how it had brought everything into focus. When she’d seen Noah for the last time, after spending the entire car ride to his house thinking about Briar’s body clinging to hers, she’d realized she’d been unfaithful to him for far longer than she’d been aware of. Every inside joke and teasing touch with Briar had taken on an entirely new meaning. She’d been openly flirting with her best friend in front of him, and she hadn’t even noticed herself doing it.
It had made her wonder if cheating was her destiny the whole time, if history was bound to repeat itself. Alice knew the power of inheritance better than most.
‘I’m sorry you felt that way,’ Noah said, his eyes soft.
‘I guess I just couldn’t deal with the shame of it. And it just kept growing every year I was gone.’
‘You felt that ashamed?’ Noah asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. Surely Noah understood her enough to know that Alice’s worst fear was ending up like her dad. But, then again, she had never let him see that side of her. She had never let him know she was afraid of anything at all.
Noah’s expression grew wistful. ‘I thought you’d eventually come back, we’d talk, and we could be friends again. You were the person I told everything to.’ He paused, glancing meaningfully at where Briar stood on the porch. ‘I know I wasn’t that for you, but I was something, wasn’t I?’
‘Of course you were,’ Alice said softly.
He nodded as though he’d truly been waiting for confirmation, which made her ache with regret. ‘But you’re here now,’ he said finally. ‘So, friends?’ He extended his hand towards her for a shake.
‘Oh.’ Alice was taken aback. ‘Of course. But, um, you should know that I’m leaving.’
His hand fell to his side again. ‘What?’ he asked, sounding genuinely disappointed.
She winced. ‘I came today to tell Briar that I’m going back to London.’ She tried for a smile. ‘Turns out she’s better off without me after all. Figures.’
Noah eyed Briar through the window again, and Alice turned her head for what she hoped was a semi-subtle assessment. Rafa was laughing through the cloud of smoke emitting from the grill, but Briar’s eyes were wide as she stared into the leaping flames.
‘Is there any part of you,’ Noah said, looking through the window, ‘that still considers Briar your best friend?’
Alice finished her beer in one large gulp, wishing it were something stronger. ‘Is that relevant?’
‘I think you’re still hers.’
‘Oh,’ Alice said stupidly.
‘And you’re the only one she let help with camp. Harper and I offered, she turned us down, and that was that. But you didn’t take no for an answer… and she let you.’ He looked at her, his eyes searching. ‘Don’t you think that means something?’
‘Well, yes,’ Alice said. ‘That I’m a presumptuous, high-handed, self-righteous—’
‘If she didn’t want your help, she wouldn’t have let you help,’ he said, spreading his hands out in front of himself as though to ward off her attack.
‘I didn’t give her much choice.’
He nodded. ‘Why did you offer?’
‘Guilt,’ Alice said simply. ‘That I didn’t come back sooner, when Susan got sick the first time. I wanted to apologize for never talking to her about what happened that last summer and running away from her instead.’
‘Running away fromher?’ Noah cocked his head at her. ‘What do you mean?’
She had missed something crucial in their conversation. Finally, Noah’s words, every confusing comment, slid into place in her brain, where the alcohol had previously not allowed them to align.
‘Shit,’ she said.
‘What?’
