Page 89 of All the way home

“I think,” Sahar said carefully, “you think you are. I think you’re scared to really think about what you want.”

Rena bristled. “Excuse—”

“Do you love Lucas?” Sahar turned to her, brown eyes wide and entreating. “I mean, really.”

“Of course I do.”

“What do you love about him exactly?”

“He’s . . .” Rena gestured wide. “He’s great. He’s patient. He’s kind and considerate. My family loves him.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sahar kept her expression unsettlingly even. “But what about you?”

“What are you getting at exactly?”

“You’ve said a couple of things over the last year that have made me wonder,” Sahar told her.

“Things like what?”

“Like . . .” Sahar sighed. “Okay. You remember when we all went to see Oscar’s show in Kingston?”

Rena nodded.

“After, you told me that sometimes you wished Lucas didn’t always want to hold your hand.”

Rena winced. Weakly, she protested, “I was just tired.”

“And the night of the Halloween party at Grant’s, you told me that you were scared Lucas was going to want to be together forever.”

Aghast, Rena stepped back. This, she did not remember. She’d thought she remembered all the details of that night. Rena rarely drank to the point of confusion, and while she did remember talking to Sahar in the corner—her limited moments of peace in the otherwise chaotic night—she did not remember saying any such thing.

“You asked me how you were supposed to know if you actually loved someone. If it was real love or if you were just pretending.”

Mouth opening and closing, Rena scrambled for a defense and found nothing.

“Rena . . .” Sahar sounded pained. “You know that’s not . . . normal, right?”

Rena fought back a shudder. “Everyone feels that way sometimes.”

“I don’t know that they do.” With a sad, tight smile, Sahar put her hand on the railing next to Rena’s, close but not touching. “It’s just—have you really thought about what it all means?”

“You seem to have a pretty good idea,” she said hotly. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I can’t tell you what you are,” Sahar said.

“Oh, but clearly you think you know something,” Rena spat back. “But you don’t know everything. I’m the one dealing with all this. I’m the one in this relationship. So what, exactly, makes you the authority on my life?”

Wincing, Sahar shook her head. “I never said I was. I’m just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

“All right,” Sahar said. “I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

“Well, you’re not,” Rena snapped.

Those were the three words that changed everything.

Sahar stumbled backward, expression shuttering, shoulders hunched.