The night did not end.
No lightning struck. No ambulance exploded. No god came down to tell me I was wicked for loving a man with another woman’s ring waiting upstairs.
Lily’s face softened.
“I know.”
I closed my eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“Okay.”
“You weren’t supposed to know.”
“I’m your best friend. Knowing is kind of my unpaid internship.”
I pressed the heel of my hand to my chest because something there hurt in a way that made breathing feel optional.
“I never stopped,” I whispered. “I thought I did. I thought it faded. I dated Daniel. I loved Daniel, or I tried to. I built a life. I graduated. I became useful. I became sane. And then Dylan comes through those doors bleeding out, and it’s like…” I shook my head. “It’s like nothing ever healed. It just scarred over with him still underneath.”
Lily’s eyes filled behind her glasses.
“He was the one that got away,” I said. “My young, foolish teenage heart’s stupid unfinished chapter.”
“Des.”
“He saw the ugly pieces.” My voice broke. “He saw me after the fire. After the grave. After red paint and blood and all the things I couldn’t make pretty. He saw all of it and didn’t run.”
The cigarette trembled between my fingers.
I stared at it because looking at Lily would make me cry.
“Daniel didn’t even know about the fire,” I said. “Not the real version. Not everything. He met my family and ran from the edges. He couldn’t even handle bikers as in-laws. Dylan saw the worst of me before I even knew how to put it into words, and he called me Beautiful.”
Lily wiped beneath one eye with her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“He’s engaged.”
“I know.”
“That should matter more.”
“It matters.”
“It doesn’t change anything inside me.”
“No,” Lily said softly. “It usually doesn’t.”
I took another drag, hated it, and stubbed the cigarette out against the metal step.
“I need Regan.”
Lily was already handing me my phone.
Of course she was.
I stared at the screen for a long second before pressing the name.
