“I was in here first. Don’t be a prude, Clairey.”
I lie back down on the floor with a sigh.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
I aim an incredulous look at her. “We’ve been living together for almost two months, and you think I have a secret boyfriend?”
“Well, I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. You mentioned that lawyer, like, once over a year ago and no one since.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Why did you and”—a pause as she searches for his name—“Simon break up?”
“I ended things withStevebecause I didn’t have time for a relationship. I’d just signed with the Siege, and things with Mom were…progressing. It wasn’t working.”
More silence before Cassidy says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. That’s just… That’s how things were then.”
“Would you get back together with Steve now?”
I don’t have to think about it. “No. The only guy I’d ever—” I stop talking abruptly. I blame the wine. In season, I rarely drink. My alcohol tolerance is practically nonexistent.
“Who?” Cassidy asks eagerly. “Nolan?”
My incredulous laugh won’t stay contained. “God, no.”
I haven’t spoken to—much less thought about—Nolan since that phone call in Paris.
The flash of hurt that crosses Cassidy’s face is brief, but not so short that I miss it entirely.
The end of my college years overlapped with the start of Cassidy’s post-grad life. We spoke infrequently and rarely about anything meaningful. I never shared many details about my breakup with Nolan, and I realize Cassidy assumed that meant I was too heartbroken to discuss it.
“I’ve been over Nolan for a long time,” I explain.
“Then who?—”
The doorbell interrupts Cassidy’s question.
I roll on my stomach, then stand. “I’ll get it.”
“It’s probably Dad,” Cassidy warns once I’m already a few steps from the doorway.
I swallow hard, nod, then continue walking. I can’t put this off forever.
As soon as the door is open, a blur of teal collides with me. “Claire!”
“Tommy boy!” I hoist him up in the air, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Did you have fun at the park?”
He nods. “Grandpa played goalie so I could practice my penaty shots.”
“Penalty,” I correct gently as I set him down. “And good. You’ll have to show me later.”
I take another deep breath, then shift my attention to the figure hovering on the front porch.
