“Yeah. At first, I thought it was you but when I gasped they turned to face me and Chap was … with Darla.”
“Darla who?” I only knew one Darla … Darla Rooney and she was my best friend and bandmate, so Moniece must be referring to another Darla I wasn’t familiar with.
Her features were crumpled, pain written all over her face. “Darla, Darla.”
My eyes stung with tears. “Moniece, that’s a cruel thing to say.”
“And I wish I didn’t have to say it but it’s true. When they realized it was me, they went into damage control, claiming it was a one time mistake and they were drunk. But it was three in the afternoon. They begged me not to tell you. Promised it would never happen again. They said there was no need to upset you over nothing.”
“They both said that.” I swallowed hard, hoping to gain control of my emotions, which at this moment were a mixture of confusion, sadness, and searing hot rage.
“Yes. I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to get caught up in a he said, she said.”
“And you’re sure it was Darla. My Darla?”
“Yes.”
My gaze grew hazy as I stared off into the distance. There had to be some mistake. Darla was my best friend. She was the shoulder I cried on when Chap was being distant or mean. She’d offer advice and listen while I vented. There was no way she’d do something like that and not confess. No, uh-uh, nope. This wasn’t possible. She taught me how to slick back my edges. I looked over the field behind the house. The same field where she and I performed our first concerts for Edison. I futilely wiped the tears from my face.
“There’s more.”
My tear-filled eyes landed on Moniece. I didn’t think I could stomach much more.
“During the tour, I noticed them standing too close, sneaking kisses, or a quick hug.”
“So you don’t think it was a one off?”
“I don’t think so.”
My thoughts flashed back to the tour bus and how angry Darla became. At the time I thought she was defending me, but now it appears Chap was cheating on both of us. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I could recall several moments which left me scratching my head between the two of them. Our trip to the beach in Greece when Chap playfully carried Darla into the sea. Darla’s high-pitched giggles trailing after them. Or the time I arrived a few minutes late for a business meeting and found Chap and Darla sitting close with their heads together as if they were in a conspiratorial discussion.
“I kind of want to dig a hole and just lay in it. Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“She doesn’t even like Chap. She’s always telling me to break up with him.” I swallowed hard. Looking back on it now, maybe that was for her own benefit. “So how long?”
“What?”
“You caught them right before our international tour started. That was months ago. So quick math tells me they’ve been messing around for at least six months.” SIX FUCKING MONTHS! You know the saying about the rug being pulled out from under you? I was experiencing that right now and surprise, surprise underneath the rug was an endless pit, and I was falling deeper and deeper.
All I could do was blink sheepishly as tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t fix this. Moniece rubbed my back silently as my shoulders rounded into a pathetic heap. When I caught Chapcheating, I was shocked but not surprised. But Darla? So, this has all just been some open secret and they’ve been smiling in my face while fucking in the bed I lay in at night.If this isn’t my villain origin story, I don’t know what is. Fuck Chap, fuck Darla, and fuck Whiskey Wild.
I spentmost of my day avoiding Dial’s questions about my weekend. If she knew I spent the time with Fancy, she would throw a fit, and I didn’t want to deal with that. Normally, I showed up at Figs and Twine at least once during the weekend, even though Saturday and Sunday were my days off. Since I deviated from my routine, my sister was bound to have questions.
Plus, all day I felt like I was floating on a cloud, and I didn’t want Dial ruining that. Fancy had that effect on people. When her big lips twisted into a delicious smile, I knew I was in trouble. And over the past few days I’d been graced with the smile time and again. Waking up to her face all serene with a bit of drool in the corner of her mouth was a dream come true. Yep, I dug everything about her, even the saliva stains she left on my pillowcases.
“We need to talk.” Dial entered my office, which was a converted shed in the back of the greenhouse.
The contents of my stomach dropped to my toes. I didn’t have the energy to go back and forth about all the waysFrancesca was bad for me at three in the afternoon. “Hello to you too.”
“No time for pleasantries. I’ve been thinking.” She moved a stack of my Good Organic Gardening magazines and took a seat in the only other chair in the room.
“No, not that. Anything but that.”
“If Mom and Dad are serious about moving, then we should get serious too.”
“Serious about what?”
