He moved to the sink to rinse his plate. “What’s this?” He raised a thick manila envelope of pictures they hadn’t gone through yet from the counter.
“The last of the stuff from your boxes.”
“Huh.” He ripped open the envelope and flipped through them.
Her mug barely made it to her lips when he stilled, peering closer at one of the photos. He stared at a photo in his hand, not looking up.
“What’s wrong, Will?” She set her cup back on the table.
He raised his gaze to her, squinted, and then glanced to the photo again. “This is impossible.” His eyebrows pinched when he frowned.
“What?” she asked.
He didn’t respond, only ran a hand over his neck.
“Will, what’s not possible?” she tried again.
He glanced at her, then back to the photo.
“You’re starting to scare me.” The rubber-covered feet of her chair squeaked against the linoleum as she scooted away from the table.
The vein in his forehead started to throb.
“Wi—”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
His emphasis on the words stopped her short. What was he so pissed about?
“Wi—”
“Is there something you should’ve told me,Lucy?” He dropped the stack of photos on the table beside her plate and pointed to the one on top—a cast and crew photo from the reality show in Florida.
Hurt played across his face, the tic in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.
Oh God.
“W-what’re you talking about?” She rushed to her feet, bumping her toe on the leg of the table.
“That’s you. On the left.” His eyes flamed with determination.
It was. He knew.
The years melted away and it was as though nothing had changed. She was still the uncomfortable girl in the photo.
“All the games ofConfessions, all the times we talked, you never said a word,” he accused.
She reached for the image, and everything inside her crumbled to pieces.
The photo from that summer burned her fingertips. The picture had been taken a few days before he left, a week or so before they wrapped filming. He was handsome and fun-loving with his arm around a blonde. Jealousy pooled inside Lucy as it had all those years ago. The girl was flashing him a knowing smile, and he had his head thrown back, laughing.
Lucy stood alone on the other side of the image. Unwanted. Invisible.
“Will… I…”
“You’re the caterpillar,” he said in disbelief.
Caterpillar?The word pierced straight through her heart, and the little bits of herself she’d held together over the years crushed the breath from her lungs.
