Filfthy(69)

Carissa’s bottom lip trembles, her eyes growing glassy as her father comes to her side. I see him nod across the room where two security guards flank the entrance. They cut through the crowd, headed toward me.

And just like that . . .

I’m fucked.





Chapter 36





Delilah



“Morning, sunshine.” I brew a pot of coffee as my sister stumbles into the kitchen Sunday morning.

It’s going to be a long day. We’ve got a few more things to pack before the big furniture movers come. Somewhere along the line, I was fortunately able to convince Rue I wasn’t capable of moving her china cabinet, king-sized bed, or extra-tall dresser.

“How was the party? Tell me all about it.” I grab two mugs from the cupboard and glance at the clock. If we can finish in the next couple of hours, that should still give me the better part of a day to spend with Zane. I’ve been thinking about it all weekend, my head and heart waging war about the things I should or shouldn’t say tonight.

But I’ve overruled them both.

I’m going to go with the flow for the first time in my life and say what feels right in that moment. I won’t plan any kind of speech or silly declaration of love. Whatever happens happens, and whatever is said will be said.

If anything, I just want to end things on a high note with the door wide open. If we can at least manage that, then I’ll call this summer a success. And I’ll deal with missing him privately and personally, and hopefully, someday, I’ll be able to get over this little summer fling.

Daphne takes her coffee mug from me, her gaze shifting to avoid mine. “Thank you.”

“Have a seat,” I say. “How was the party?”

My sister clears her throat. Her baby blues mist as she looks off in the distance.

“Oh, god,” I say. “Weston. What’d he do? Did he break things off?”

I move to her side, wrapping my arms around her. Gone is the light in her eyes and the sweet cadence in her demeanor. I recognize the heartbreak in her eyes. I’ve seen it there before. She’s hurting. She’s upset.

She shakes her head before nuzzling her cheek against her shoulder. “Delilah, there’s something I have to tell you about last night.”

“What? You’re scaring me.” I suck in a breath and hold it, my body tense.

“Zane went to the party with someone else.” Her words are a near whisper.

If hearts could shatter, mine would be in a million pieces right now. I’m numb. And yet I feel everything all at once.

“Maybe it was a misunderstanding?” I blink away the tears that brim my eyes.

Daphne bites her tongue, slowly shaking her head side to side.

“When we got there, I saw him standing next to her, and she kissed him, and when I confronted him, he tried to say it wasn’t what it looked like, but she was hanging all over him. His expression, Delilah . . . the color was drained from his face. He wasn’t expecting to see me. He looked like someone who’d been caught red-handed.”

“So he lied.” My words are monotone. “He lied to me.”

Daphne places her hand over mine.

“He told me he couldn’t take me to the party because he was on some kind of restriction and he thought he’d lose his contract if he violated it,” I say, brows lifting. I let out a single dry laugh, though nothing about this is funny. “Huh. And then he went with someone else.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

I try and smile to keep the tears from falling, but one escapes anyhow, sliding down my cheek and landing on the top of my hand. “I hate myself for even wanting to know this, but I just can’t help myself . . . what did she look like?”

Daphne exhales slowly, eyes squinted. “You know, I never saw her face. They kissed, and then when he turned around, she was behind him. She had dark hair. I think. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because he’s an asshole and you deserve better.”

“I just don’t get it. We spent so much time together this summer. Everything was going well. We were close. I mean, we were friends. At least I thought we were?” I rest my chin on my hand, staring ahead at a printed picture of a dairy cow hanging next to Rue’s kitchen table. She’s had that thing forever. I’m pretty sure I could reproduce it from memory if I had to. But now, every time I look at that cow, I’m going to think of this moment. “You think you know someone.”

My mind replays the last six weeks. Chicago was a major turning point for us. We shared things about each other. He opened up. We laughed. We screwed. I suppose the last few weeks he has seemed rather distant. I thought he was working? Maybe he was off with . . . her?