My sister looks at me as I fling my clothes into my suitcase. “That’s dramatic, which is my thing, not yours. You went with the information you had, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Isn’t that what we all do?”
Her words make sense, but they don’t penetrate the wall I’m building. With each toss of clothing, I get more and more angry until I finally collapse backward on my bed, my feet hanging over the edge. My hip aches the way it does when I’ve been standing for hours or when I’m carrying something heavier than luggage. That’s what a car accident and carrying twins does to a woman’s body.
Kate joins me, and we both stare up at the slats to her bunk.
“There’s got to be a reason he kept his anonymity that has nothing to do with you.”
I ignore her.
“A guy doesn’t come off a world tour to work at a dude ranch under a fake name for no reason.” She takes my hand and squeezes.
I sigh and squeeze back. That’s the only acknowledgment I’ll give for her reasoning right now. We lay in the silence, my thoughts drifting to the last week. I knew he looked familiar. But his hair is different. He has a beard. He wears glasses.
Which are all the ways he tried to hide who he was.
And it’s not like he promised me anything. We made out a couple of times. He sang for me, and I drew for him. That’s it.
But it was nice. It felt like something.
And that’s what I’m really mad about. That I developed feelings for him, knowing it would end today. I just hadn’t expected it to end with secrets.
Ugh. I even showed him pictures of my boys, and he didn’t run.
That’s because he knew we would never happen.
But that doesn’t seem like something Cam would do.
Except he isn’t Cam, is he? He’s Walker James. Well, Cameron Walker James, but he said his name was Cameron Walker, and that’s an outright lie.
My eyes flick to my travel mug, the memory of the saloon popping into my head. Izzy called him famous.
“Doesn’t Bree work with Walker James? Isn’t that how we got front-row tickets to his concert?”
I turn my head toward Kate, whose eyes widen as clarity sets in.
“She and Izzy know who he is.”
Of course they do. Because that’s how this day is going.
I am on a girls’ trip with them. My boys spent time with their partners. I want to be angry at them, but surprisingly, I’m not.
“I understand why they didn’t say anything.”
“Me too.” Kate fiddles with the end of my braid as we lie on our sides. “And I bet they’ll have some answers for us if we want them.”
She’s asking if I want answers. And I love her for that. She knows that I do, but she’s really asking if I want to go there.
The cabin door opens with a flourish, Izzy’s voice echoing through the bedroom. “We’re in the main room packing up when you’re ready to talk.”
Kate raises one brow in question, and I nod, knowing I can’t avoid our friends forever.
I step into the main space and sit in one of the club chairs with my sister taking the other. Bree and Izzy move to the couch, sitting across from us, their faces apprehensive.
This wasn’t their lie, and I don’t like that they feel this way about talking to me.
“You okay?”
Kate goes to speak for me, but I shake my head and hold up my hand to stop her.
