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But…

I don’t.

Because I can’t go back.

Because I had to do it.

Because it was for her own good. The news will blow over and?—

“Do you really not care?” Mandy snaps. “That you’ve shredded her through and through?”

My throat goes tight. “I?—”

“Mom!”

We all turn, see that Mandy’s oldest, Maddy, is running toward us.

Freeing me from the hot seat.

Putting this fucking conversation to rest.

But not making the guilt go away.

I inhale, exhale, hold myself still through the battering ram of that remorse, pull it together enough to say a proper hello to Maddy, to exchange a terse goodbye with Mandy. But Sara hangs back as the pair goes to get ready for the skating lesson Sara is giving Maddy that morning, and I know that all of the bracing I’m doing isn’t going to be enough for the blow that’s about to fly my way.

“She thinks that she wasn’t woman enough for you.”

I freeze, having to clench every muscle in my body to stop myself from crumpling over.

Because Brit thinks?—

And last night?—

And this morning?—

And—

Fucking hell.

“Yeah,” Sara mutters. “I figured that might finally get through your big, dumb brain.”

“I—”

She lifts a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, haven’t been in your bedroom other than to help my girl pick out an outfit so someone might think she’s attractive and sexy and wanted.”

One blow after another.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

“So, no, I understand that I don’t get every nuance of your guys’ lives,” she murmurs. “But I’ve been around enough to know when someone I love is fucking up royally.”

She turns away.

Turns back.

“And, just to clarify, the person who’s fucking up is you,” she says. Half of her mouth curves. “In case there’s any doubt of that.”

There’s not any doubt.

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