He hesitated, his hand twitching at his side before he stuffed it into his pocket. “You’re meant for bigger things than this town,” he said, almost too softly to hear. “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t go.”
I blinked, confused. “What does that even—”
“I don’t want this to get complicated,” he interrupted, louder, voice breaking just a little.
I nodded, because I couldn’t speak.
He reached out anyway, brushing his thumb over my wrist—the same spot he’d held at the dance the night before. “We’ll still talk,” he promised, and smiled that half-smile that already felt like goodbye.
“Sure,” I whispered.
But we both knew we wouldn’t.
He left that afternoon for a campus visit, and I went home and reopened the acceptance letter I’d been hiding under my pillow.
By the end of the week, I’d told everyone I was leaving for New York early. They clapped me on the back with congratulations and expressions of sympathy for poor Teddy, who was no doubt the victim of my big-city aspirations.
I spun it like a dream come true, not the aftermath of one that had fallen apart.
???
PRESENT DAY
Idrew a steadying breath and met my own eyes in the mirror.
My dark hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, as crisp as the freshly pressed suit I donned for the occasion. I hadn’t worn it since I crash landed back in Bluebell Cove, and the patent leather heels seemed to squish my toes more than usual, but it still felt like armor to me.
Nodding to myself, then rolling my eyes—because, who did I think I was?—I draped my favorite wool coat over my shoulders and snatched my purse from the bed.
I’d spent every waking moment of the last twelve hours pushing the creeping pandemonium into the furthest corners of my mind. My estranged father, Teddy, and my mother’s apparent disinterest in her only child. All I had to do was dragthem into their neatly labeled boxes and shove them somewhere deep and dark.
The idealized version of Candice that lived in my brain—the only one I could afford without a regular paycheck—definitely approved of this behavior. She even called it “totally normal” and a “completely healthy coping mechanism”.
I pushed the door to the Morning Bell open, features steeled into an unbothered mask as my gaze swept across the cafe. When it fell on the far corner, the one we affectionately deemed “our corner” in high school, my stomach twisted back into the knots I’d carefully unraveled all night.
Serena Zayas hadn’t seen me since we stumbled into each other’s paths in New York a couple years ago. As per usual, she was all ease and grace, draped in her own designs that could usually be seen on the youngest members of Manhattan’s upper echelon. Somehow, she’d convinced me to join her and her new boyfriend for dinner that evening.
There was no point in sugarcoating it: I hated him.
After ordering my coffee, and wasting too much time dawdling at the bar, I cleared my throat and made my approach.
“Margot!” she greeted, slipping gracefully from the couch, all long legs and not an ounce of clumsiness. Serena oozed an impossible amount of sophistication, shoulders swathed by a striped collar peeking from her sweater and a silk scarf around her neck, tied with the ideal degree of nonchalance.
I returned her hug with an admirable attempt at a smile.
“You look sochic, as always,” she said with a gasp, clutching my shoulders. “Who is this?”
“Armani,” I replied. Double-breasted and tailored to perfection—the gift I bought myself for my biggest promotion.
That’s when I noticed the eyes glued to my face. Georgie, perched in an armchair with a straw planted between her lips, and Teddy, one long arm stretched across the back of the couch.My cheeks flushed with an unwelcome amount of warmth before I tore myself away.
“Unfortunately, Wes couldn’t make it,” Serena breathed, floating back to her seat beside Teddy and languidly swinging one leg over the other.
I took a fortifying sip of my coffee before sliding into the chair beside Georgie. “It was a bit last minute, S,” I muttered.
“But that’s alright,” Georgie chimed in, “We’re just happy to see you.”
“So.” I squinted at her, completely ignoring Georgie’s frantic stare. “When did you get engaged?”
